Marked By the Pureblood Alpha (Deanna and Luis) novel Chapter 208

**Chapter 208: Bait**

**Jillian’s POV:**

I parked the car alongside a desolate stretch of riverbank, the water shimmering under the dim light of the evening sky. A large bridge loomed overhead, casting a shadow that felt heavy with the weight of the world. Below it, a few homeless souls had found refuge from the harshness of life, curled up in tattered blankets, oblivious to the chill in the air.

I stepped out of the vehicle, the gravel crunching under my feet, and took a moment to breathe in the damp, earthy scent that surrounded me. Dorothy emerged behind me, her fingers tightly gripping a worn-out canvas bag, its fabric frayed and faded, much like her spirit.

Lighting a cigarette, I inhaled deeply, letting the smoke curl around me like a veil. I turned to look at her, noticing the way her eyes darted nervously, as if trying to decipher my intentions.

“Do you have any idea why I brought you here?” I asked, letting the smoke escape my lips in a slow, deliberate puff, directing it toward the bridge where the beggars huddled together for warmth.

Dorothy shook her head, uncertainty etched across her features.

Suddenly, I raised my voice, letting the anger I felt bubble to the surface as I flicked the cigarette to the ground, watching it extinguish against the gravel. “I wish I could take you somewhere nice, like a five-star restaurant or a luxury hotel. But look at me! I’m a wreck—less than a wreck! I’m drowning in debt! If this continues, I’ll end up worse than those beggars! My creditors are already whispering about selling me off!”

I wasn’t entirely lying; I was indeed broke, but I exaggerated my plight, hoping to elicit the reaction I needed.

I had grown up in the Mistbane Pack, where the art of persuasion was a survival skill. I knew how to weave words, how to manipulate emotions, and how to make people feel compelled to help me.

As I expected, Dorothy’s expression shifted. The color drained from her face, and the pity that replaced her nervousness was palpable.

“You’re my mother,” I said, allowing a tremor to slip into my voice, “Does it not hurt you to see me like this? If you had just dealt with Deanna when you had the chance, I wouldn’t be living this miserable life, like some unwanted loser.”

Her lips quivered, and I could see the conflict in her eyes.

“Jillian… tell me what you want me to do. Whatever it takes to make things right, I’ll do it,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper, laced with desperation.

Suppressing a smirk, I spoke slowly, deliberately, “If you help me get rid of Deanna, everything will revert to how it once was. I’ll be wealthy again. And when that happens, I’ll buy a huge house—and we’ll live there together.”

I dangled the lie like a tempting bait, watching her reaction closely.

“Really? You’ll live with me?” The light in Dorothy’s eyes flickered with a mix of hope and desperation, igniting a fire I could almost feel.

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