Third Person's POV Lana felt a sharp pang of self-reproach as she stared out the window of Victor's car. What on earth was she thinking? The question gnawed at her like a wolf's teeth on bone. Her mind replayed the moment over and over-why had she ever doubted herself enough to let Victor back into her life? The sudden, low tone of his voice cut through her thoughts. "Admiring me so intently… do you regret breaking up with me back then?" Lana's gaze snapped back to the road, carefully masking her inner turmoil. "No, I don't regret it." She had always prided herself on being decisive. Ending things with Victor had been the clearest-headed choice she had ever made. To linger, to hesitate, would have meant falling under the pull of his face, his commanding presence, all over again. Victor's eyes, sharp and calculating like a wolf scenting prey, flicked toward her. "You'd better hide that thought. Don't let anyone at the dinner see it-don't let them know you don't regret breaking up with me." Lana narrowed her eyes. "What do you mean by that?" His smile was tight, predatory. "It means you should act like you regret it. Pretend that you've yearned for me all this time-and that you love me deeply." "Victor… it's just a dinner. Do you really need to act like this?" Lana's brow furrowed, irritation prickling her like claws. "I do," he said coldly, voice low but firm, commanding her attention as any Alpha would his pack. The car came to a smooth halt in front of an upscale private club, black glass glinting in the streetlights. The doors opened, and Lana followed Victor inside, her senses alert, instincts tingling. She had been trained to notice subtle movements, the faint shift of energy in a room, and now she felt the tension radiating from Victor like heat from a wolf's fur. Inside, a suite of people clustered in conversation, laughter dancing lightly over the rich scent of expensive wine. The moment Victor and Lana entered, a voice greeted him. "Victor! Finally, we thought you wouldn't make it." A few heads turned, and another voice added, "Oh! And who might this be?" Their gaze fell on Lana, assessing her with curiosity, some tinged with amusement. Victor stepped forward, voice low but firm. "This is my girlfriend, Lana Rook." Immediately, the room shifted. Eyes widened in surprise, interest flickering in gazes like hunters sensing new prey. A few looked amused, a few wary. It was a subtle ripple of power recognition, and Lana, though accustomed to business meetings, could feel it even now-the unspoken rules of dominance and territory, like scent marking in the wild. Victor began introductions, a systematic display of social authority. "These are people I work with professionally," he said, guiding Lana through each handshake, each careful nod. Lana's mind raced, impressed and slightly overwhelmed. These were influential figures in The Capital, movers and shapers whose acquaintance could take years for even the most well-connected entrepreneur. Yet here she was, swept into this circle in a single motion. She smiled politely, responding with the practiced grace of someone used to navigating tense social terrain. Her mind, however, remained alert, reading each subtle cue-the slight shift of a shoulder, the glimmer of interest in an eye, the faint ripple of recognition from those who had underestimated her before. One voice, light with teasing, broke the rhythm. "Victor, you actually have a girlfriend? I thought you were joking before. We were trying to match you with Velda." At the sound of the name, several heads turned to a woman standing nearby, elegant and composed. She wore white, her presence ethereal, almost aloof. Lana's instincts kicked in immediately-this woman was waiting for a confrontation, positioning herself like a rival wolf staking claim to territory. "My, you flatter me," Velda said, voice light, a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "I could never measure up to Victor. He's always been protective of me… merely treating me like a junior. But Miss Rook, your name sounds familiar. It reminds me of someone Victor once dated." The comment sent a subtle ripple through the room. Eyes flicked toward Lana, some evaluating, some judging. She finally understood Victor's earlier warning in the car-he intended to use her as a shield, a barrier to the lingering attentions of would-be rivals. Victor's voice cut through the moment, calm and commanding. "Lana and I dated in the past. We were apart for a time, but recently we realized there's still a bond between us. We're together now-and this time, we won't separate." Lana's inner voice screamed. Yeah, right. One year from now, this will all blow up. She forced a polite smile. "Yes… I'm happy to be with Victor again," she said, masking her skepticism with grace. A toast was proposed. The room's energy shifted again as glasses were raised, a ritualistic display of social cohesion and hierarchy. Lana sipped cautiously, knowing better than to let wine loosen her instincts. Two cups in, she excused herself, slipping toward the washroom. Inside, she unexpectedly found Velda waiting, eyes sharp, calculating. Lana's senses flared; she could almost smell the challenge radiating off her. "Do you have business with me?" Lana asked, brow raised. "You don't deserve Victor," Velda said coolly. "I've heard you're just a nouveau riche, and that you hurt him badly in the past. How dare you sit by his side now?"Lana rolled her eyes, suppressing a laugh. The one who was hurt? That was me! "Whether I deserve him is between Victor and me. Why do you care? On what authority do you question me?" Lana's voice was sharp, low, wolfish. "I speak as someone who cares for Victor. I don't know your motives, but he hates being used. Should he ever find you're using him… he will despise you." Velda's words dripped with assumed righteousness. Lana smirked. "Funny. The one being used right now is me." She stepped closer, voice dropping to a whisper, dangerous and intimate. "Do you like Victor?" "I just think he deserves someone better," Velda replied, a practiced coldness in her tone. "Too bad. Victor seems to like people like me." Lana's lips curved into a wolfish grin as she glanced over Velda, then turned her attention to Victor, who had silently approached. "Victor," she whispered, her hands sliding around his neck, voice husky, meant for him alone, "I acted for you once. Now it's your turn to act for me." Victor's lips pressed into a thin line, his Alpha dominance radiating like heat from a wolf's pelt, but he said nothing. Lana leaned in, taking the initiative, and pressed her lips to his-a silent challenge, a claim, a declaration only the two of them could understand. The room's energy shifted subtly, like the pack sensing a change in dominance. Allies and rivals alike held their positions, feeling the tension, the unspoken claim being made in that fleeting, dangerous kiss.