#Chapter 92: The Butler’s Secret -- Part I
#Chapter 92: The Butler’s Secret -- Part I
Karl
As I watch the train speed away, a new form of emptiness settles in my stomach.
Abby is pissed at me; I know that. I know that what I did with Adam was messed up, and I guess I
hoped in some sort of naive way that she would never find out. Well, she found out. And she’s furious.
Hell, she might not even want to see me ever again.
“You’ve got to fix this,” my wolf growls, his voice stern in the back of my mind.
“You think I don’t know that?” snap back internally as I begin to make my way back to the car. “But at
this point, I don’t even know if Abby will listen to me anymore. You saw how pissed she was this
morning.”
“Make her listen, then. She’ll cool off and will be more willing to hear you out with time.”
“And what until then?” I ask. “What the hell am I supposed to do while I wait for her to miraculously
‘cool off’?”
My wolf pauses for a moment. I put the car in drive and pull out of the parking lot, and that’s when he
speaks up again.
“You can start with that awful secretary of yours,” he finally says. “Show Abby where your loyalties lie.
That secretary has been a point of contention since the beginning.”
As much as I hate to admit it, I know that my wolf is right. Gianna has been a problem, even more so
now that I know what her true motives are. If she really has had feelings for me all these years, I would
have to wonder whether these feelings of hers ever impacted certain things.
In fact, I remember Abby mentioning on multiple occasions that she had to make an appointment with
my secretary just to see me; which, now that I think about it, was never true.
At the time, I thought that Abby was just misremembering things, or maybe exaggerating because she
was angry. But now I know better. Gods, I should’ve listened to Abby from the beginning.
Was Gianna trying to sow discord in little ways like that, even back then? Trying to make Abby unhappy
with me?
There’s no way of knowing now. But, this thought has given me a new resolve, and I swerve the car
onto a side road toward Gianna’s house.
We need to have a chat.
…
I can almost feel my wolf nodding in approval as I knock on the door to Gianna’s house. The door
opens slightly beneath my hand, never having fully latched after its last use. I decide to poke my head
in, only to halt in surprise.
Gerald, my ever-reliable butler, is sitting there, casually chatting with her at the kitchen table. They both
jerk their heads up, Gianna’s eyes going wide while Gerald plasters a friendly smile on his face.
“Ah, Mr. Karl,” he says, standing. “How nice to see you.”
“What are you doing here, Gerald?” I ask. I didn’t know that the two of them were so friendly.
“Just a friendly catch-up,” Gerald replies, his face not giving anything away. He grabs his coat off of the
back of the chair and smiles. “Actually, I was just leaving. I’ll see you at the house later, sir.”
Once he’s gone, Gianna meets my gaze again. “Karl… What brings you here?”
I close the door and look her straight in the eye. “Gianna, we need to talk about last night. Your
comments about Abby were not only inappropriate but also unacceptable.”
She starts to interrupt, but I raise my hand to stop her. “Let me finish. If you ever dare to speak of Abby
like that again, or make another unwarranted advance toward me, you’re fired. No second chances.”
Her eyes widen. “Karl, you can’t be serious. I thought you—”
“You thought wrong,” I cut her off sharply, knowing what her implications will be before she even utters
them. “I don’t love you, Gianna. I’m sorry, but I never have and I never will. Abby is my fated mate, and
I intend to make her my Luna again. If you have a problem with that, then you can find employment
elsewhere.”
She looks at me, her eyes filling with tears, and for a moment I think she’s going to argue. But then she
just nods, her shoulders slumping in defeat.
“Very well,” she murmurs, looking down at her desk to avoid meeting my gaze.
I don’t wait for her to say anything else. I turn on my heels and walk out of the room, leaving her to
grapple with her own guilt.
I make my way back home, ascending the grand staircase that leads to my office. The air feels heavier
with each step I take, laden with a mixture of dread and regret.
“Now, onto the next step,” I think to my wolf. “I’ve decided that I’m going to write Abby a letter. A
heartfelt, genuine letter that’s going to make her see exactly why I did what I did.”
I settle into my leather chair, then open up a new document on my laptop. My fingers hover over the
keys, but as it turns out, it’s much more difficult than I thought to draft the perfect words.
“Dear Abby,” I begin, then pause, staring at the blinking cursor on the screen. It feels too formal, too
distant.
“You really think that’ll win her back?” my wolf asks with a scoff. “Try again.”
I press the backspace key until the screen is empty again. “Alright, let’s try something else. Abby, I
please hear me out—”
“Way too desperate,” my wolf interrupts again. “No woman wants a man who begs like that.”
With a frustrated growl, I delete the sentence. My mind feels like a scrambled mess, thoughts and
emotions colliding in a chaotic jumble. Finally, after what feels like an eternity, I’ve fully exhausted all of
my ideas and yet the page is still blank. ConTEent bel0ngs to Nôv(e)lD/rama(.)Org .
“I can’t capture this in a letter, can I?” I sigh under my breath, pushing the laptop away. “This isn’t the
sort of thing that I can convey over text.”
My wolf agrees silently, a sense of resolution settling between us. “Actions speak louder than words,” I
say. “I’ll go back to the city in a few days, give her some space to cool off. She’s going to need help
with that cook-off competition, and who better to assist her than me?”
Feeling somewhat reassured by this plan, I start to gather some paperwork that needs my attention.
But just as I’m about to dive into the first report, there’s a soft knock on the door.
“Come in,” I call out, not looking up from the stack of papers.
The door creaks open, and Gerald walks in, wearing an expression I’ve rarely seen on his face—stern,
almost defiant.
“Gerald? What brings you here at this hour?” I ask, sensing the tension in the room.
“Sir, we need to talk,” he starts cautiously, “regarding your ultimatum with Gianna—and its
consequences.”
I raise an eyebrow, suddenly intrigued yet confused. “What do you mean? How do you know about
this?”
Gerald’s lips tighten as if he’s holding back a wave of emotion. “I’ve been with your adoptive family for
many years, served faithfully and never questioned the authority of the Alpha. But I find myself
compelled to make a choice now.”
I look at him, bewildered. “A choice? What are you talking about?”
“If you’re planning to fire Gianna, then I’m afraid you'll be losing more than just a secretary,” he states
flatly, his gaze unwavering. “I’ll have no option but to resign as well.”