A Broken Alpha Heiress' Revenge novel Chapter 195

Chapter 195

Finished

Third Person’s POV

Back at the Silverfang Den, Jace Hale had been surrounded by a few other Stormridge elites–young wolves from powerful families, all drunk and arrogant. When Carmen refused to comply with their demands, they began to get handsy.

She was already prepared to smash a bottle over their heads when, unexpectedly, Duke stepped in.

He looked sharp in his tailored suit, clearly not the average drunk in the bar. Sensing an opportunity, Carmen instantly shifted gears, adopting the guise of a delicate, helpless little lamb. The kind of girl a self–righteous noble might want to save.

That little performance bought her more than a getaway–it gave her leverage.

She later returned the umbrella Duke had lent her, a small gesture laced with calculated intention. That move alone laid the groundwork for the game she played afterward, subtly leading him on while keeping her claws hidden.

Carmen thought she’d never have to cross paths with Jace Hale again. But fate had other plans.

Every time she stepped outside the academy gates, it seemed, she’d run into him or one of his cronies.

Jace might have been too drunk to remember her from that night, but his friends certainly hadn’t forgotten. They felt humiliated that she hadn’t agreed to drink with them, and even more so after she’d made a scene in public.

So, when they spotted her again at a shopping mall, they pounced–dragging her into a men’s restroom, intending to “teach her a lesson.”

They had no idea who they were dealing with.

By the time Carmen was done with them, one had a butterfly knife wound in his thigh, another had swallowed a toilet full of water, and the last was begging for his mother while she beat him with the bathroom mop until his nose broke.

She’d left them there like garbage, wiping her hands clean.

The next day, however, those men somehow tracked down her name and school. They threatened her, saying if she didn’t agree to accompany them at the Den again, they’d make sure she wouldn’t survive another week in Mooncrest.

Carmen didn’t scare easily.

They tried to corner her a third time–this time in a private booth lined with expensive liquor. Jace had leaned back in the plush seat, grinning arrogantly as he pointed to the fifty bottles before her.

“Drink all of these,” he sneered, “and we’ll call it even.”

They expected her to panic. To cry. To beg.

They didn’t know Carmen.

The second they let their guard down, she grabbed a bottle and smashed it across one of their heads. Blood sprayed, panic erupted. Then came the butterfly knife–flashing silver under the dim club lights.

Before they could run, she had them drinking the rest of the liquor themselves, bottle after bottle, their faces pale and terrified

“Remember,” she whispered coldly, pressing the blade to one of their necks, “I’m not someone you scare. I’m someone you survive–if you’re lucky.”

You want to report me to the authorities?” she added with a dark smile. “Go ahead. Just be ready. Because when I’m out. I won’t come for justice–I’ll come for blood.”

What none of them knew was that these spoiled wolves were heirs to several of Mooncrest most powerful families. They were used to bullying others, never being bested–let alone by a woman.

And Carmen wasn’t just any woman. She was chaos wrapped in silk, violence in high heels.

3:54 PM P P .

Chapter 195

“Oh?” she murmured, not missing a beat as the blade danced over her knuckles.

“Y–yeah,” Jace stammered. “Just being… friendly.”

Carmen tilted her head, her gaze like a dagger slicing through the lies on his tongue. “Not planning to ask me to pour drinks for your rich friends again?”

He paled. “Of course not! I wouldn’t dare.”

She stared him down for a moment longer, then, with a slow smirk, folded the knife shut and slid it back into her jacket.

jace exhaled like he’d been holding his breath underwater.

Carmen didn’t smile, but the corner of her mouth lifted–just a touch. Not warmth. Amusement, maybe. Or warning.

“Where are you headed?” Jace asked, still trying his luck.

Her eyes narrowed slightly, as if gauging whether he was still full of shit.

The night wind stirred her dark coat, and she stepped forward, each movement elegant, predatory.

“I don’t ride with wolves who cry when they get scratched,” she murmured, then brushed past him and disappeared into the shadows, heels clicking softly behind her.

Jace stood there a while, unsure whether he wanted to run… or follow.

One thing was clear.

He’d never met a wolf like her.