Chapter 77: I Take My Investments Seriously

I walked out the front door with him, stepping into the cool evening air. Once we were a few paces down the narrow alleyway, out of earshot of the house, a quiet laugh escaped my lips.

"Did you see how they were sobbing from happiness?" I chuckled softly, shaking my head. "My family can be so emotional. But... they’re good people."

Edgar looked down at me, his golden eyes dark and thoughtful as we walked side by side. "I can understand why you were so angry now," he said quietly, bringing up the incident with Valentina from that morning.

My expression sobered, my jaw setting into a firm line. "Just forget it," I said flatly, turning around to face him. "I should probably head back inside."

Before I could take a step away, his broad fingers wrapped gently around my wrist, stopping me in my tracks.

"I still haven’t given you my apology present," he said softly.

He tucked his free hand inside his inner pocket, pulling out a leather-wrapped casing bound with black cords.

"Is that...?" I asked, my brows drawing together in surprise.

Edgar nodded slowly. "Yes. Open it and tell me if I missed even a single detail. I’ll get it remade if it isn’t exact."

I took the casing, my fingers carefully untying the leather wrap. I was fully prepared to nitpick every flaw—I had specifically described a complex, custom assassin weapon in my text just to test his resourcefulness and give him something impossible to take his time acquiring.

But for him to already have it... There was no way he got it right... right?

And yet, as the leather unrolled, the breath caught in my throat.

Resting inside were two silver short daggers.

The double-edged blades, the custom finger-guards, the weighted hilt balance, and the subtle crescent fullers—they were the exact pair of daggers I had wielded in my past life as an assassin. Down to the very millimeter.

It’s only been a few hours... My mind whirled in shock as I stared at the gleam of the silver. Just how did he get these forged and balanced in a few hours?! This man... who is he really?

Before I could recover from the shock, Edgar leaned down, his warm breath fanning against the shell of my ear as his low, vibrating voice sent a sudden shiver down my spine.

"So..." he whispered softly. "Did I get it right?"

My heart skipped a beat, a sudden, unfamiliar heat flushing across my cheeks. I quickly turned my face away, swallowing hard as I desperately forced my expression back into a cool, impassive mask.

"I was planning to nitpick," I muttered, brushing my thumb over the perfectly balanced grip of the silver daggers, "but you really surprised me, Edgar."

Edgar chuckled softly, a low rumble that vibrated right through the cool evening air. He slowly straightened back up to his full height, his golden eyes gleefully tracking the subtle blush still lingering on my skin.

"I take my investments seriously, little cat," he said smoothly, a dark, satisfied smirk resting on his lips. "And I always deliver on my promises."

I tucked the leather casing under my arm, taking a deliberate step back to put some space between us. "Don’t get cocky. This just means that you, my investor, are far more useful than I gave you credit for."

"High praise coming from you," he replied, his tone dripping with quiet amusement. He turned toward his idling sleek black car parked at the end of the narrow alleyway, then paused, looking over his shoulder at me. "Get some rest tonight. The Tournament of Power is approaching fast. Soon, the names of wolves representing each pack wil be released and you’ll be exposed, despised and looked down on, but I know that won’t bother you."

"Not one bit," I responded.

"Now that you have your weapons and a bit of power, how about you consider my offer to train you myself?" Edgar asked, a knowing look in his eyes.

"I don’t need training from an Alpha," I countered coldly, though my grip tightened on the casing.

"We’ll see about that," Edgar murmured, his eyes flashing with a dangerous, intriguing light. "I’ll see you soon, Brianna."

He slid into the back seat of the car, and the tinted windows rolled up as the vehicle smoothly pulled away into the dimming evening light.

I stood in the alley for a moment, watching the red taillights vanish around the corner. I let out a long, slow exhale, white mist curling off my lips into the cool air.

Valentina, I’m one step closer to getting a knife shoved into your back. I thought, my lips curling.

Turning on my heel, I walked back toward the warm, glowing light of my home.

I pushed the wooden door open and stepped back into the house, but before I could even take two paces toward the stairs, my family swarmed me. They had played along while Edgar was towering over our living room, but now that the Alpha was gone, the overwhelming tide of worry had broken loose.

"Brianna, are you and my boss really acquainted?" Jayden pressed, crowding my left side.

Before I could answer, Jordan shoved Jayden’s face out of the way, leaning in with wide, panicked eyes. "Brianna, tell me you’re not being forced into this! I’ve heard rumors about rich wolves—they get bored and look for some sick sort of excitement, toying with innocent females until they get bored!"

"Get off my face already," I muttered, shoving both of my brothers aside with a light flick of my wrist.

Beyond them, Bradford and Valerie stood in heavy silence. Their eyes were filled with a mix of hope and terror—unable to decide whether this miraculous turn of events was a blessing from above or a deadly trap waiting to snap shut on their daughter.

"It’s true that he likes me..." I said, letting out a soft sigh to sell the narrative. Then I paused, looking between their anxious faces. "Wait here for a moment."

I turned and walked up the creaky stairs to my bedroom, pulling the bottom drawer of my desk open. Tucked beneath a pile of old notebooks was the black metal card Edgar had given me back at his office the other day, you know, when this whole suffocation—I mean kissing routine—started.

I picked it up, turned on my heel, and headed back downstairs.

"He handed me this yesterday, but I didn’t know how to bring it up to you," I said, holding out the card so they could all see the sleek, golden Morningstar insignia engraved on the surface. "There’s over ten thousand credits on this."