Shadows Of Betrayal

Miss Elizabeth and her son, Ryland, had drawn considerable attention since the last Jones pack meeting. Their certainty about Maxwell's demise had left others questioning, and the scrutiny made their every move precarious.

Elizabeth noticed Ryland slipping toward the storage room and hurried to intercept him.

"Wait!" she called out, her voice sharp but hushed. "It's not us who will finish the job."

Ryland halted, his brow furrowing as he turned to face her. "What do you mean he's a step ahead of us? What are you thinking?"

Elizabeth placed a steady hand on her son's arm, her tone calm but firm. "Do you not realize we're under a magnifying glass? Everyone already suspects us in Maxwell's disappearance. If we're seen anywhere near him, they'll have all the proof they need. Trust me—the job will be done soon, just not by us."

Ryland clenched his jaw, irritation flashing in his eyes. "And just who is going to do it, Mother?"

Elizabeth offered him a knowing smile. Before he could question her further, the door to the room creaked open, and Jolie entered with her assistant, trailing close behind. Elizabeth's demeanor shifted instantly, her smile growing warm but faintly nervous. She scooped up her bag and straightened her posture.

"Thank you for your cooperation," she said lightly, addressing Jolie and barely glancing at Jolie's assistant. "It's time for us to go." She motioned for Ryland to follow her, leading them out of the room before anyone could ask questions.

---

On the ride back to the Jones estate, Elizabeth broached another subject, her tone syrupy sweet. "Jolie, dear," she began, glancing at the woman in the back seat. "I need one more favor. Perhaps two or three members of South Park could help... manage the Maxwell situation. After all, family helps family, right?" She reached over, clasping Jolie's hand with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.

Jolie hesitated, her instinct telling her to refuse, but Elizabeth's grip was unrelenting. Her gaze pierced through any hesitation Jolie might have voiced.

"Of course," Jolie replied, her voice steady but laced with unease. "I'll take care of it."

Ryland, sitting quietly in the front seat, watched his mother closely. Her ability to manipulate others never ceased to amaze him. She had a way of making people bend to her will without them even realizing they were being coerced.

When they arrived at the estate, Ryland finally broke his silence. "Bravo, Mother," he said, clapping lightly. "Your talents never cease to amaze me."

Elizabeth smiled, her expression one of pride. "A leader must always know when to push and when to pull back," she said smoothly.

The hours that followed were tense. They waited by the phone, anticipation thick in the air. Finally, the shrill ring broke the silence. Elizabeth snatched up the receiver with an almost feral eagerness.

"Hello, future mother-in-law," Jolie greeted, her voice smooth and controlled. "As promised, the job's done. Just tell us where to deliver him."

Elizabeth's breath hitched. The plan had worked. She shot Ryland a triumphant look, her grip tightening on the phone.

"Excellent," she said, her voice steady despite her excitement. "But as I've mentioned, we cannot risk being tied to him. That's why I'm entrusting you with the final task. Take him to the shelter behind the clinic. He won't trouble anyone after tonight."

Elizabeth hung up, her chest rising and falling with the thrill of victory. She poured two glasses of wine, handing one to Ryland.

"A toast," she said, raising her glass. "To the future leader of the Jones pack."

Ryland raised his glass in return, smirking. "And to the true mastermind behind it all." They clinked glasses and drank, savoring their small victory.

---

Meanwhile, at the clinic, Maxwell stirred, his head pounding and his limbs heavy. Though groggy from the drugs, he stayed perfectly still, his ears picking up the low voices of the two South Park members tasked with disposing of him.

"You think he's as dangerous as Ryland?" one asked nervously.

The other scoffed. "He's just a crippled cousin. No match for us."

Maxwell's heart pounded, his instincts screaming at him to act. He kept his breathing steady, waiting for the right moment. When one of them moved closer, he acted on pure instinct, springing to life with a burst of energy he didn't know he possessed. The room erupted into chaos as he fought back, his speed and cunning surprising his captors. The struggle was fierce, but Maxwell emerged victorious, his breath ragged as he stared at their unconscious bodies.

Still trembling, he grabbed a nearby cloak to conceal himself and slipped into the night. The cool air hit his face as he ran, his instincts leading him deep into the forest. There, hidden in the thick underbrush, he paused, his thoughts racing. He had to find safety. He had to find Zoelle.

---

Back at the clinic, Zoelle stormed through the hallway, her footsteps echoing as she approached the reception desk. Greg sat there, his demeanor smug as he shuffled papers.

"How's the wolf?" Zoelle asked, her tone casual but edged with suspicion. "Did he eat?"

Greg hesitated, avoiding her gaze. Zoelle's suspicion flared. "Greg," she said, her voice sharp now. "What's going on?"

Greg finally looked up, his smirk faltering for just a moment. "He's gone," he said, shrugging. "Taken to the shelter. The boss's orders."

Zoelle's temper flared, her fists clenching at her sides. "What did you do?" she demanded, her voice rising.

Greg yanked his arm free when Zoelle grabbed him. "Listen, it's not my problem!" he snapped. "You and your soft heart don't belong here. Besides, you're no longer in charge."

The words hit Zoelle like a slap. "What are you talking about?"

Greg leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. "That's right. You're out. I'm the new head. So unless you want me to report you, I'd suggest you leave quietly."

Zoelle straightened, her lips curling into a cold smile. "Enjoy your stolen position while it lasts. A house built on betrayal never stands for long." Her words were icy, a promise of retribution hanging in the air. With that, she turned on her heel and walked away, her mind racing with ways to make things right.

---

In the forest, Maxwell crouched beneath a cluster of bushes, his breath steadying as he gathered his thoughts. He had to find Zoelle—she was his only hope. Adjusting the cloak around him, he rose to his feet and moved silently through the shadows, his resolve growing with every step.

"I'm not done yet," Maxwell murmured to himself. "They'll regret underestimating me."

As he vanished deeper into the forest, the hunt for him was far from over.