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Raising the Wolves Novel Cover

Raising the Wolves

My father raised seven brilliant orphans to be my potential husbands. For years, I only had eyes for one of them, the cold and distant Caspian Vance, believing his distance was a wall I just had to break through. That belief shattered last night when I found him in the garden, kissing his foster sister, Lyra—the fragile girl my family took in at his request, the one I had treated like my own sister. But the true horror came when I overheard the other six Ashworth Fellows talking in the library. They weren't competing for me. They were working together, orchestrating "accidents" and mocking my "stupid, blind" devotion to keep me away from Caspian. Their loyalty wasn't to me, the heiress who held their futures in her hands. It was to Lyra. I wasn't a woman to be won. I was a foolish burden to be managed. The seven men I grew up with, the men who owed my family everything, were a cult, and she was their queen. This morning, I walked into my father's study to make a decision that would burn their world to the ground. He smiled, asking if I'd finally won Caspian over. "No, Dad," I said, my voice firm. "I'm marrying Silas Blackwood."
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Chapter 4

I was discharged from the hospital a week later. Caspian was there, waiting to drive me home. I ignored him completely and got into the car with Mateo, who had also come along.

Mateo, the strategist. The one who had "saved" me from a falling sculpture. The one who had just reprimanded Caspian for almost killing me.

He tried to make small talk on the way home, telling jokes, trying to get me to smile.

I couldn't. My face felt like a frozen mask.

"Seraphina, are you okay?" he asked, his voice gentle. "You seem... different."

"I'm fine," I said, my voice flat.

"Look, I know things have been tense," he said. "Why don't we go to the Christie's auction tonight? Buy yourself something pretty. It always helps." He smiled. "My treat."

I looked at him, at his handsome, concerned face, and felt a surge of disgust. "With my father's money?"

He flinched, but recovered quickly. "I have my own money, Seraphina. I've made some very successful investments." He leaned in a little. "Seriously. Let me buy you anything you want."

A slow, cold smile spread across my face for the first time in weeks. "Alright, Mateo. You're on."

If he wanted to play the generous fool, I would let him. I would take everything I could from these vipers.

The auction house was buzzing with the city's elite. The centerpiece of the evening was a stunning necklace known as the "Starfall Sapphire," a cascade of flawless blue diamonds rumored to have belonged to my late mother, a final gift from my father before she passed. It was more than jewelry; it was a symbol of my legacy.

The moment I saw it, I knew I had to have it.

Just as the bidding was about to start, the doors opened and two more people walked in. Caspian and Lyra.

My smile froze. I had a sick feeling in my stomach. I knew, with absolute certainty, that Lyra would want that necklace.

The bidding started.

"One million dollars," came a soft voice from across the room. It was Lyra.

She caught my eye and then looked down, a hesitant expression on her face. "Oh, Seraphina. Do you want it? I'm sorry, I'll stop." She made a show of lowering her bidding paddle, looking up at Caspian with sad eyes. "I wouldn't want to take something you like."

She played the part of the magnanimous sister so well.

Caspian's face hardened. He glared at me from across the room, his eyes full of contempt, as if I were a bully taking a toy from a small child. This was no longer about a simple gift; this was a public challenge to my birthright.

He turned to Lyra, his voice loud enough for the whole room to hear. "If you like it, you should have it. Don't let anyone stop you."

Then he raised his own paddle. "Five million dollars."

A hush fell over the room. Everyone knew who Caspian was. He was the Ashworth heir apparent, my future husband. For him to publicly bid against me, for my own mother's legacy, for another woman was a slap in the face. Whispers erupted.

"Is he trying to humiliate her?"

"Poor Seraphina. To be treated like that in public."

I felt the heat of a hundred pairs of eyes on me, some pitying, some mocking. My hand, holding my own paddle, trembled with rage.

I would not be humiliated. I would not back down.

I lifted my paddle, catching the auctioneer's eye, and made a sharp, decisive gesture.

"Ten million," the auctioneer announced, his voice booming.

I would not let them win.

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