“Central City Police Department,” she continued without hesitation. “Yes. Attempted homicide by mechanical sabotage. I have evidence: surveillance footage, recordings, and live witness testimony. Location is the Quinn Pack’s racing grounds. Bring cuffs.” She ordered.
She quickly ended the calls and turned to the cluster of pack officials already lingering uneasily nearby. She extended her phone, screen open with the video Mirabel had sent her earlier, clear as day, the worker hunched over her car, severing the brake line under Selene’s whispered orders.
“Copy this to your files,” she instructed. “Seal it in the record. She didn’t just tamper with a car. She endangered the life of an important figure in this pack. That’s not an infraction, it’s treason against the Pack’s safety laws
