Rise of a Silenced Wolf

Convince-1

July

I never expected this tragedy to catch the media's attention so quickly. I had always hated being the center of attention, but right now, I desperately craved all the eyes I could get. I wanted the news to spread like wildfire. If the word traveled far enough, maybe it would finally reach the ears of my own pack.

But the sudden swarm of reporters caused a massive headache for the hospital, and security quickly showed them the door. I could hear them shouting and protesting down the hall, refusing to go down without a fight, but they were forced out anyway.

Joseph stared warily out the window, his lips pressed into a tight line. I could tell he was completely losing his cool. Surviving a ninety-meter drop was front-page news for any pack territory. The second my name and picture hit the networks, people would start digging into the details of my accidental fall. His flimsy cover story wouldn't hold water under that kind of scrutiny.

He began pacing frantically between my bed and the window. Three steps to the glass, turn, three steps back to the bed, turn again. He looked like a cornered beast trapped in a cage, tearing himself apart between cutting his losses or finishing me off. Running meant kissing the insurance money goodbye; killing me meant taking a massive gamble.

He clawed at his hair, ruining his perfectly styled look, muttering nervously under his breath. His voice was too low for me to catch, but I didn't need to hear the words to know exactly what he was thinking.

I saw a dangerous warning sign flare in his eyes. It was the look a desperate gambler gets when they throw all their chips into the center of the table, ready to go all-in. His gaze narrowed into a sharp slit, all his focus laser-targeted on one specific thing.

My oxygen line.

My heart began to hammer wildly against my ribs.

Having made up his mind, Joseph stopped pacing. He marched back to the bed, leaned over, and pressed his forehead against mine. The moment the forced mind-link snapped into place, a wave of pure nausea washed over me.

His hand slid down, gripping my right hand. His fingers wrapped tightly around the edge of my palm, his thumb pressing hard into my flesh. Then, he began to squeeze, crushing my hand bit by bit. I could hear the faint, sickening creak of my bones under his grip.

"You're hurting me," I pleaded through the link, begging him. "Please, let go."

"No," he snapped coldly. "Did you call them here, July? Did you summon those leeching reporters?"

"Of course not!" I shot back. "I've been under your nose the entire time. I can't move, and I can't speak. How on earth could I contact the media?"

He hesitated, the murderous tension in his face easing slightly.

"The media is gone, Joseph," I tried to soothe his rising panic. "No one is going to find out—"

"No, they're just gone for now. The word is out," Joseph said frantically. "More and more people are going to hear about this and look into you. Maybe not tomorrow, but what about the day after? You think I don't know how the media works? They left, but there will be more reporters, more phone calls, more investigations. If even one person smells a rat, I'm done for. I need to get rid of you before someone starts digging."

"No, no, please don't kill me. This will blow over," I pleaded, forcing myself to stay calm. "The news cycle moves fast. The media is always chasing the next shiny object. As long as nobody feeds them new details, this will fade from everyone's memory in three days flat."

"I hate taking risks," he muttered.

"I know," I said, trying my best to reason with him. "But killing me right now is a massive risk too. Any sudden turn for the worse will trigger an immediate autopsy or investigation. Killing me now will only raise eyebrows."

He rubbed a hand across his face, pacing in his own mind. "What should I do? What do I do?" His grip on my hand tightened instinctively.

"Please, just let me live," I pushed a desperate, submissive smile onto my lips. "I won't say a word to anyone. This will all be water under the bridge, and we can go back to our normal lives. We will raise our baby together."

"Really?" he asked skeptically, boring his eyes into mine.

"Really," I promised.

"Swear it," he commanded. "Swear you won't throw me under the bus. Say you'll never tell a soul."

"I swear," I replied with forced serenity.

"Say the whole thing."

"I swear I will never tell anyone."

His expression softened a fraction, but he was still wrestling with the decision. Suddenly, a brilliant lifeline flashed through my mind.

Money.

Why had Joseph pushed things this far? He didn't want me dead because he hated me; he wanted me dead because he was dead broke. He owed a fortune in gambling debts. He pushed me off that cliff purely for the insurance money. If I could offer him enough cash, maybe I could buy back my life—or at least buy enough time to get transferred out of the ICU.

"Joseph," I said, trying to sound like a meek, devoted wife. "I have half million in my private account. I'll give it all to you."

He sucked in a sharp breath. "What did you say?"

"I know you don't actually want to kill me. You're just all out of options," I lied, playing the part of the understanding partner. I used his own pathetic excuses to bait the hook. "It's my fault for not noticing how desperate things had gotten for you. I haven't been a good, attentive wife. I ignored your feelings. I'm so sorry."

"You don't mean that," he said, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. "You're only saying that so I won't end you—"

"Joseph," I called his name softly through the link. "You are my husband. We stood at the altar and promised to be together for richer or for poorer. I survived that fall. It's a sign from the Moon Goddess. Let me help you."

"But I owe a million dollars—" he groaned.

"This is all the cash I have right now," I countered. "But I can borrow the other five hundred thousand from my parents later and hand it over to you."

"Borrow it from them now and transfer it over," Joseph demanded greedily.

"No," I stood my ground. "You can take my phone right now and wire the first five hundred thousand. But the remaining half has to wait until I see my family. That is non-negotiable."