Villainess Marked For Her Alpha-Chapter 63: Make the Pet Section Happen
Viktor snatched the glossy stack—Paws & Couture, Vogue Pets, even Elite Fashion—and tore into them like a wolf on scraps, pages fluttering down to the thick Persian rug in his dimly lit study.
His polished boots came down hard next, stomping Emily’s beaming face into pulp—her in frilly cat-ear gowns amid clawing kittens, doubled over laughing with slobbering dogs, Helly Paws rocketing skyward after one measly week.
Profits gushed like an oil strike—first brand ever to stitch everyday wear—soft denim overalls, hoodies, shirts, breezy joggers for pets—straight to luxury glamour—velvet blazers, satin sheaths for gala pets—outfits syncing owners and animals in perfect, sellable harmony. That girl subtly promoted her future plans too! Stores overflowed; the website buckled thrice now. 𝕗𝚛𝚎𝚎𝐰𝗲𝗯𝗻𝚘𝚟𝚎𝗹.𝕔𝐨𝕞
"What the hell is that girl playing at?!" Viktor bellowed, his broad face flushed crimson, veins bulging at his temples like live wires, suit jacket twisted from the rampage. Was she trying to ruin his name?!
Elena lounged in the oxblood leather armchair, legs crossed, swirling a deep cabernet in her crystal stem—eyes sharp as her daughter’s, but brittle with ice. She hated her daughter more than her husband, but she didn’t want that spawn of hers to ruin her name. It was better to bring her home for now.
"Your daughter’s rewriting the rules, Viktor. Pet clothes? Old news. But her—modelling her own line, mixing street casual for walks with high-end couture for the elite? She’s owning the whole damn field, and I don’t like it."
"That bitch stopped being my daughter the day she stabbed me in the back!" Viktor roared, meaty finger jabbing the air like a bayonet. "Real daughters obey!"
Alexei slouched against the mahogany desk, arms folded, a smug shadow crossing his sharp features—he had already suggested them to start a pet line a long time ago, but his idea dismissed like a child’s doodle. Now look. "Father, we should launch our line. Let her stack cash like this, she’ll circle back and gut Herlos—pets feeding fashion, fashion feeding our tech gadgets. We can do a lot better than her."
"She’s scheming, Viktor," Elena cut in, rising smooth as smoke, silk blouse rustling soft menace, wineglass set down with a deliberate clink. "You want to gamble? She’s already nibbling your edges."
"I built these empires—fashion from threads, tech from garages!" Viktor thundered, fist crashing the desk; the crystal decanter jumped, amber whiskey sloshing.
"You forget I built beside you—how many times must I say it? Even though, our marriage was a business one." Elena’s voice lashed back, stepping close, perfume sharp as her glare.
"Fine! You helped. Help me end her now!" Viktor snarled, spit flying.
"Pet division—full throttle. Let’s crush her, shall we?" Alexei pressed, eyes gleaming cold calculus. "I will run point."
Viktor sucked in a ragged breath, his barrel chest heaving against the silk tie’s tight knot, liver-spotted hands shaking as they fussed over the rumpled lapels of his bespoke suit. "Fine, let’s do it. Make it happen then. How much time will we need to open a pet section?"
"Two months max," Alexei said crisp, thumb already flying across his phone screen for supplier leads. "Samples spun quick, flagship stores popping up, full blitz on the market. Father, you will do better than her."
Viktor’s jowls quivered with a grim nod. "Good. Grind that girl into dust before she climbs any higher." His legacy would not be outshined by Emily. He looked at his sensible son—an alpha to the core.
Elena’s eyes darted sharp between them, her wineglass left sweating on the side table. "Alexei, love—clear out for a bit? Make those calls. Viktor and I have to talk about something."
Alexei hesitated, gaze flicking to his stepfather’s storm-dark scowl and his mother’s silk-clad edge, then gave a short nod. He slipped through the door with a quiet click, leaving heavy silence.
Now alone, Viktor’s eyes raked slow over his wife. Elena—older, but omega grace clung to her like fine smoke—lush curves hugged by cream silk, hair-streaked silver and pinned just so, those eyes still snapping with old fire.
Time hadn’t stolen it; it’d sharpened her to a blade.
"Don’t stare at me like that, Viktor," she murmured, lips twitching with a knowing curve, voice soft but barbed. "We are old. And don’t forget that our marriage was an open one. We both tasted different alphas and omegas respectively."
"Forget it, Elena. What do you make of it all?" he growled low, dropping heavy into the facing armchair, thick fists gripping the leather arms till they creaked.
"Make of what?" Elena arched one elegant brow, easing back with the lazy poise of a cat in sunlight.
"Emily. That side of her." His gravel voice sank lower. "The omega stink we’ve kept buried all these years."
"You mean the suppressants? The ones letting her prance around playing alpha?" Elena’s manicured nails drummed a slow beat on her knee—a tiger’s tail flick, patient but loaded. That girl still thought herself as an alpha—huh, what a joke!
"Yeah. Back when she lived under this roof, we smothered it young—cocktails of drugs slipped into her meals, drinks, teas, lies drilled deep till she believed she was alpha blood. Worked like a charm." Viktor’s face soured, jowls sagging.
"Are you keeping tabs on her?" Elena gave a smirk to her husband. Despicable as always. But she was the same.
"Of course, I am!"
"But now? Out there, free, famous, tangled up with alphas like that bodyguard... what if the doses wear thin? What if the mask slips, she catches her real identity, goes full feral on us?" Viktor was worried. He didn’t want Emily to know her real identity.
Elena’s laugh rippled cold through the study, low and without warmth, like ice cracking over deep water. "Fretting the drugs might fail? Or is it deeper—that she’ll claim it? Tell me, Viktor—is that the real terror? Not her little pet dresses... but her nature breaking loose to haunt us? Or... is it the other thing?"
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NOTE: Thank you for the Power Stones, Golden Tickets and gifts!
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