The Tyrannical Wolf King's Contract Bride-Chapter 67: A Best Friend’s Loyalty

Lila’s POV

Jasper was gone.

I was alone in the room with the lingering scent of him that had yet to fade.

I sat up and pulled the blanket around myself. My fingertips unconsciously drifted to the corner of my mouth, where the warmth of his light kiss seemed to linger.

By the time I got up and went downstairs, breakfast was already prepared.

In the dining room, sunlight poured generously through the massive floor-to-ceiling windows, bathing the long table. Silverware gleamed with a soft luster in the light. Crystal glasses held amber-colored orange juice, placed next to a plate of perfectly fried eggs with runny yolks and a few slices of golden-brown toast.

Zoe was sitting at the table, her head down as she looked at a tablet, its screen filled with dense streams of data. She was dressed casually today in a pair of cream-colored, wide-leg pants and a soft cashmere sweater. Her hair was tied back in a low ponytail, making her look refreshed and sharp.

Hearing my footsteps, she looked up, her eyes instantly brightening.

"Lila!" She put down her tablet, a big, cloudless smile blooming on her face. "You’re awake! Come on, breakfast is getting cold."

I walked over and sat down across from her.

She didn’t immediately press me about last night, nor did she rush to say something like, ’I knew you two would make up.’ She simply picked up a small silver spoon, scooped up a bit of honey, and carefully drizzled it evenly over a slice of toast before pushing it in front of me.

"Try this," she said. "Honey toast, your old favorite. I had the kitchen make it specially."

I looked at the toast. It was golden and crisp, the glistening honey looking like melted amber in the sunlight.

"Thank you," I said in a low voice.

She waved her hand, her smile brilliant. "What’s there to thank me for? We’re family."

Her words were like a stone tossed into the lake of my heart, sending ripples spreading outwards.

I watched her, saw the genuine joy in her eyes and the way her pupils seemed to shine with happiness, and suddenly felt a lump form in my throat.

"Zoe," I began, my voice a little hoarse, "before... I’m sorry for getting angry with you, for not answering your calls or replying to your texts."

The smile on her face didn’t change at all, though it did soften a little.

"Oh, come on," she said with an exaggerated sigh, reaching across the table to gently squeeze my fingers. "Why are you apologizing to me? I’m not made of glass; I don’t shatter at a touch. I know how much you were hurting back then. If it were me, I probably would have torn down the entire Moon Hidden Villa by now."

She paused, her gaze landing on my face, her eyes clear and frank. "Lila, you don’t have to apologize. No matter what happens, I’m always on your side. Not on Jasper’s side, and not on the Werewolves’ side. I’m on ’Lila’s’ side."

I looked at her, at the unconditional trust in her eyes, and suddenly felt my own eyes begin to burn.

I lowered my head, picked up my knife and fork, and cut off a small piece of the runny-yolk egg. The yolk flowed out like a small pool of warm, liquid gold.

"Mm," I hummed, my voice soft but unusually firm. "I know."

She smiled, and in her smile was a sense of profound relief.

"All right," she said, raising her orange juice to me in a small toast. "Let’s eat first. You’ll need your strength to hear about all the unpleasant business."

She didn’t say "the surveillance report," or "my uncle’s scandal." She just called it "unpleasant business."

That phrasing made my taut nerves relax just a little.

We ate our breakfast in silence. The gentle sunlight fell on the table, reflecting off the silverware and illuminating Zoe’s occasional, easy smiles. It was the most peaceful and reassuring meal I’d had in a long time.

After the meal, Zoe didn’t take me to the study.

"Come on," she said, standing up and grabbing a light jacket that was draped over the back of her chair. "Let’s go for a walk in the garden. I bet you haven’t gotten any proper sun lately."

I followed her, walking slowly down the long corridor to the familiar garden.

The morning air was crisp, carrying the fragrance of damp earth and newly bloomed flowers. Sunlight filtered through the leaves of the tall plane trees, casting dappled, dancing spots of light on the cobblestone path. Zoe didn’t take the main path, instead turning onto a quiet trail covered by a wisteria trellis.

She stopped and leaned against a wooden pillar entwined with verdant vines, tilting her head back to take a deep breath.

"This is so nice," she sighed contentedly. "Sunlight, the scent of flowers, and... a Lila who’s finally willing to talk to me properly."

I watched her without replying, just listening quietly.

She turned her head and smiled at me. There wasn’t a hint of pretense in it, only the genuine ease that comes after letting down all one’s defenses.

"Do you remember," her voice grew softer, but remained exceptionally clear, "when I told you not to worry about being my stepmother?"

I froze for a second.

"I’m an orphan Jasper brought back from Africa." She looked at me, her gaze open and honest. "He saved me, gave me an identity, gave me a home."

She paused, her eyes drifting to the roses blooming in the distance. Her voice was calm, but it held a serenity that could only come from weathering many storms.

"He announced to the world that I was his biological daughter, willing to be criticized for being a promiscuous and irresponsible Wolf King. He did it because everyone in my tribe had been slaughtered by a rival faction, and he chose to sacrifice his reputation to protect me."

I looked at her, at the tranquility on her face that seemed out of place for her age, and suddenly, something clicked.

"So... now you’re..."

"Now," she turned back, winking at me, her familiar, flamboyant energy reigniting in her smile, "I’m all grown up. And Jasper has started training me. This investigation into your uncle," she gestured toward her tablet, "will be my responsibility from now on."

She didn’t say, "I’ll help you," or, "I’ll investigate for you."

She said, "It will be my responsibility."

It was a stance, a declaration, a solemn commitment that seemed to place me at the very center of her world.

"Lila," she said, looking at me with serious eyes, "your business is my business."

I looked at her, at the bright, inextinguishable flame in her eyes.

In that flame, there was no calculation, no weighing of pros and cons—only a pure, almost clumsy loyalty.

I took a slow, deep breath.

The morning air, sweet with the scent of wisteria, filled my lungs.

"Okay," I heard myself say, my voice calm but carrying an unprecedented, rock-solid conviction. "I trust you."

She smiled, and that smile was more dazzling than the sun overhead.

"Let’s go. We’ll head to the study," she said. "I’ll show you the surveillance footage from last night. That stunt you pulled to shake things up really fished out some incredible information."