Chapter 251 The thugs

Chapter 251: Chapter 251 The thugs

_Rowena’s POV_

My mind reamained stuck in overdrive, we had spent the last two hours reviewing Kasper’s surveillance setup for the central market.

It was a good plan on paper, but something kept bugging me in the back of my head. Kyle wasnt an idiof type of person, and he certainly wasn’t slow.

He was cautious and had managed to play the entire court without leaving a single trace behind.

Dropping a fake security memo onto his terminal was a start, but if we pushed too fast or too obviously, he would smell the trap from a mile away and retreat back into his shell.

We needed a different angle, a distraction that looked entirely organic, chaotic, and completely disconnected from the packhouse.

I leaned against the railing, watching the guards patrol the gates below, when a sudden memory flashed through my mind.

The thugs from that open market i’d visited when I went to get things for Kristy’s leg.

The same thugs who beat up those fake tax collectors.

They had promised to do whatever I wanted just cause they got five thousand from the violent one.

A scheming smile spread across my face.

I walked back into my office, pulled out my burner phone from the desk drawer, and scrolled down to an unnamed number saved at the very bottom of my contact list. I tapped the screen and brought the phone to my ear.

It rang four times before a gruff, raspy voice picked up, loud background noise echoing through the speaker.

"Who’s this?" the voice barked out. "If this is the auto shop asking for the repair money, I told you I’m good for it next week!"

"It’s Rowena," I said, keeping my tone cool and relaxed.

There was a sudden, violent thud over the line, followed by the sound of someone choking on his own spit and kicking a chair over.

"R-Rowena?!" the thug yelled, his voice cracking loudly. "The... Alpha King’s woman?!"

"The very same," I replied, a small smirk touching my lips. "Are you and your partner taking odd jobs around the district?"

"Depends on who’s asking and how light their wallet is," he muttered, trying to sound tough again, though his tone was noticeably nervous.

At the end of the day, money solves all things.

"I have a job for you two," I said flatly, cutting straight to the point. "It requires zero heavy lifting, a bit of street acting, and it pays twenty thousand dollars cash. Each."

Silence hung over the line for three whole seconds.

"Twenty thousand?!" the thug screeched so loudly I had to pull the phone an inch away from my ear. "Cash?! Please tell me who we gotta slap! We’ll do it right now! We’ll double team ’em!"

"Nobody is getting slapped," I chuckled quietly. "I’m sending a private black sedan to pick you two up at the lower district bus depot in twenty minutes. Don’t be late, don’t dress like garbage, and get in the car without making a scene."

"We’re already running to the depot!" he yelled, hanging up the phone before I could even say goodbye.

Thirty minutes later, I stood on the stone steps outside the Ebon Moon Packhouse.

The black tinted sedan pulled up the long, tree lined driveway, stopping right at the foot of the stairs.

The driver stepped out and opened the back door.

Two men stepped out of the back and the sight was almost comical. They were wearing oversized, slightly wrinkled jackets, cheap gold chains, and worn out boots.

The moment their feet hit the stone driveway, their jaws completely dropped open.

They stood there paralyzed, their eyes wide as saucers as they looked up at the massive, gilded towers of the Ebon Moon Packhouse. They looked like two lost stray dogs that had accidentally wandered into an Emperor’s private palace.

"Holy crap, Big G..." the shorter thug whispered, his voice trembling as he clutched his partner’s arm. "Where the hell did that driver take us? Is this... is this the Alpha King’s main fortress?!"

"Shut up, man!" the taller one hissed back, his face turning pale as he frantically looked around at the armed guards staring down at them. "Don’t look at the guards! They’ll shoot us.”

I couldn’t hold back a laugh as I slowly walked down the steps toward them, crossing my arms over my blazer.

"Welcome to the Ebon Moon Packhouse, boys," I called out.

Both thugs snapped their heads toward me. Their eyes went even wider when they saw me standing there, looking clean and entirely at home in the middle of the estate in the entire territory.

"Ms Rowena?!" the taller one gasped, pointing a shaking finger at me. "You... you actually live here?!"

Before I could answer, aauthoritative set of footsteps echoed down the steps behind me.

Alaric stepped out into view. He was dressed in his back outit, his shoulders squared, his Alpha aura radiating off him in suffocating waves. He stopped right beside me, slipping his large hand casually around my waist, his dark, dangerous eyes looking down at the two street thugs with a cold, unreadable glare.

The moment the two thugs locked eyes with the Alpha King himself, every single drop of blood drained completely from their faces.

THUD.

Both men dropped straight to their knees on the hard pavement, slamming their hands flat against the ground, trembling so violently their cheap gold chains rattled against their chests.

"Alpha King!" the taller thug wailed desperately, his forehead pressed practically flat against the stone. "We’re sorry! We didn’t know! We swear on our lives we didn’t know.”"

"Please don’t kill us." the shorter one squeaked out, choking on his own panic. "Lady Rowena, we are so sorry for how we talked to you at the market back then! We were idiots. We were trash. Please tell him not to scar our wolves.”

Alaric raised an eyebrow, looking down at the two trembling men on the floor, then looking over at me with an amused tilt of his lips.

"Friends of yours, my Marchioness?" Alaric asked, his deep baritone rumbling as he squeezed my waist softly.

I smiled, stepping forward and looking down at the two thugs. "Get up, both of you. You’re not getting scarred today. Like I said on the phone... I brought you here because I have a job for you."