**Chapter 160: The Prison Visit**
Maurice reclined on the sleek black sofa, his posture relaxed yet contemplative as he crossed one leg over the other. With a hint of bemusement in his voice, he asked, “Did I actually say that?”
Maggie, ever the diligent reminder, chimed in, “You mentioned that if we could secure a favorable impression with the Alpha of the Mooncrown Pack, you’d allow our studio to proceed with the paving project.”
Maurice’s brow furrowed slightly as he pondered the implications. “Well, was he pleased?”
“Absolutely! In fact, Deanna even faced some consequences for it—Mr. Eaton embraced her!”
Maurice’s eyes narrowed as he scrutinized Deanna, assessing her with newfound interest.
“Really?”
His mind raced. *She is indeed quite attractive.*
*Could it be that Mr. Eaton has developed an interest in her?*
But then a thought struck him. *Wait a minute. I thought the pure-blood Alpha had no inclination towards women. At those corporate gatherings, not a single she-werewolf dared approach him.*
The Mooncrown Pack had become a significant player in Skyline Construction, a fact that weighed heavily on Maurice’s mind.
*But really, does it matter?*
*This could merely be an opportunity for them to compete.*
*Whether or not they ultimately succeed remains uncertain.*
After a brief moment of contemplation, Maurice finally relented. “Alright then. Since I’ve already made that commitment, instruct the project director to liaise with them.”
—
Outside the towering edifice of Skyline Construction, Maggie stood there, disbelief etched across her features. “That’s it? Just like that?”
“Deanna, you have no idea—the project director’s demeanor towards us has shifted dramatically! Zelena pleaded with them for what felt like an eternity and got nowhere.”
“But why would Maurice agree so readily? Don’t tell me it’s just because you’re pretty?”
Deanna playfully tapped Maggie’s forehead, a smirk playing on her lips. “What are you even suggesting? He probably thinks I’m tied to Luis in some way.”
Maggie’s eyes widened as realization dawned on her.
—
Inside the cold, stark walls of the werewolf prison, Jillian sat in silence, her expression a mask of gloom.
Her fingers absentmindedly traced the frayed cuff of her sleeve, once adorned with the proud crescent moon emblem of the Mistbane Pack. Now, only the remnants of tattered stitches remained, a reflection of her own shattered existence. Ever since her expulsion from the Mistbane Pack territory, she had been stripped of the right to wear their symbol, a constant reminder of her fall from grace.
Across the glass partition, the warden unceremoniously shoved Dorothy into the visiting room.
The moment Dorothy’s gaze fell upon Jillian, her dull eyes flickered with a spark of life.
She could hardly fathom that Jillian had chosen to see her.
Once the reality set in, she hastily ran a comb through her hair for the first time since her incarceration, desperate to present herself well, hoping to avoid any disgust from Jillian.

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