Chapter 149
Marked By the Pureblood Alpha (Deanna and Luis) novel Chapter 149
The atmosphere was thick, saturated with the unmistakable scent of high-ranking wolves, a heady mix of power and ambition that hung in the air like a fog. It was a gathering where every glance and whisper carried weight, and where the stakes were as high as the towering chandeliers overhead.
Maggie, her eyes darting through the throng, leaned in closer to me, her voice barely above a whisper. “There, look! That’s Maurice Gross, the CEO of Skyline Construction.”
“Mr. Gross, good evening. I’m Deanna, the head of Bluewave Studio. May I have a moment of your time?” I introduced myself, trying to keep my voice steady.
He turned his attention away from the group he had been mingling with, his gaze locking onto me. I could feel the weight of his scrutiny as he appraised me from head to toe. With a dismissive gesture, he shoved the girl beside him aside, and a greasy smile crept across his face, making my stomach churn.
“Oh? Bluewave Studio, you say?” he replied, his tone dripping with feigned interest.
His eyes glinted with mischief as he studied me, a teasing smirk playing at the corners of his lips. “And what makes you think you’re worth my time?”
“Zelena, my lead designer, studied design overseas. She’s been in the industry for five years and has a wealth of experience. Adding another design firm to the competition would only enhance the quality of work for Skyline Construction,” I asserted, my confidence growing.
Just then, the woman returned to his side, her lips forming a pout. “Mr. Gross, don’t forget about me when there’s a new girl around,” she cooed, her tone laced with jealousy.
He stroked her cheek with a greasy finger, his grin widening. “Relax, darling. You’re still my favorite,” he replied, his voice dripping with insincerity.
Then, turning his attention back to me, he leaned closer. “How about you drink all this wine? Show me your courage and determination.”
He didn’t get to finish his thought.
At that very moment, the door swung open with a force that drew every eye in the room.
A rich, dominant scent of cedarwood swept through the space, commanding attention like an unseen force. The man who entered was striking, his suit casually draped over one shoulder, the collar of his crisp white shirt unbuttoned in a way that spoke of effortless confidence. His gray slacks hugged long, powerful legs that moved with a grace that was almost regal.
His amber eyes scanned the room, exuding the crushing weight of a top alpha, as if he were a king surveying his kingdom. The presence of the others who followed him faded into mere shadows, insignificant in comparison.
The crowd parted instinctively, creating a path for him, and even Maurice, who had been the center of attention, shot to his feet, offering his seat in a gesture of respect. “Greetings, Mr. Eaton,” he said, his tone suddenly deferential.