Chapter 4 Who Gave You Permission To Touch My Things

• After changing into her new clothes, Charlotte stepped out of the fitting room. She glanced toward the fitting room on the left, noticing its door was now firmly shut.
• “It suits you exceptionally well,” observed the staff member, who had an uncanny ability to select the perfect attire for anyone at just a glance.
• Charlotte donned a light blue maxi dress which complemented her pale complexion beautifully. The belt cinched at her waist emphasized her slender figure, slightly gaunt but enhanced by her delicately sculpted cheeks.
• Gregory approved of the dress and proceeded to the cashier. It was only when he saw the price—over thirty thousand for the dress—that he hesitated, but considering the importance of the upcoming meeting with the distinguished members of the Thunderstorm Pack, he clenched his teeth and paid. His tone was frosty as he urged, “Let's go.”
• Charlotte was no stranger to his harshness, yet the icy detachment he displayed still left a deep, aching chill in her heart.
• Submissively, she followed him into the car.
• The vehicle soon stopped at the grand entrance to the Lanning residence. The chauffeur opened the door for Gregory, who exited the car, with Charlotte closely behind.
• As she stood at the entrance, memories of her painful past—when her brother was critically ill and her father lived here indulgently with his mistress—flooded back. Her hands involuntarily clenched into fists.
• “What are you doing just standing there?” Gregory's voice snapped her out of her reverie. Turning around, he noticed her frozen at the doorway.
• Charlotte quickly caught up, learning from the household staff that the Zovkic family had not yet arrived. Gregory instructed her to wait in the living room.
• In the living room, by the floor-to-ceiling window, stood a piano—a Seidel, made in Granatano and quite costly. It was a gift from her mother for her fifth birthday.
• Charlotte had loved playing it since she was a little girl, having started piano lessons at just four and a half years old. But after being sent away, she hadn't touched it again.
• Almost instinctively, her hand reached out, a blend of nostalgia and excitement coursing through her as her index finger pressed down on a key, releasing a resonant note that filled the room. It had been years since she last played, and her fingers felt significantly stiffer.
• “Who gave you permission to touch my things?” A sharp, angry voice startled her.
• Her things?
• Charlotte spun around to see Cecilia Lanning standing there, furious. Cecilia was a year younger than her, sixteen, and had grown into an attractive young woman, inheriting the strengths of Rosalind Sampson, the current Luna of the Moon Shadow pack.
• At that moment, Cecilia's expression was stern, her eyes glaring as she faced Charlotte.
• “This belongs to you?” Charlotte challenged, her voice tinged with disbelief.
• They ruined Mom's marriage, and now even the gifts Mom had given me are being claimed by this girl?
• Charlotte's fists clenched tighter, her mind racing to maintain composure, reminding herself not to lose her temper. She still needed to retrieve the antidote formula and everything that rightfully belonged to her mother.
• She also suspected that the poisoning of her brother and mother was orchestrated by Rosalind and Cecilia, though she currently lacked the evidence to prove it.
• I have to endure. I'm no longer the little girl who was sent away seven years ago. I'm all grown up now!
• “Y-You're Charlotte?” Cecilia suddenly realized who she was. That day was the day the people from the Thunderstorm pack were expected, and her father had brought Charlotte and Hazel back to Moon Shadow Pack.
• “You didn't end up poisoned and dead like your brother?” Cecilia blurted out thoughtlessly, her eyes widening as she quickly covered her mouth.
• Charlotte eyed her suspiciously. How does she know about Noah's death from poisoning?
• “Did you feel overjoyed when Dad brought you back?” Cecilia quickly changed the subject, her tone dripping with disdain. “Don't get too smug. You were only brought back to marry into the Zovkic family. I heard that man—” She paused, a mocking smile curling her lips, “So what if he's an alpha? If he's disabled and can't act like a proper human, he'll be ousted from his position soon enough.”
• Charlotte's brows furrowed deeply at this.
• Just then, a housekeeper interrupted, “The alpha of Thunderstorm pack has arrived.”
• Gregory moved to welcome them at the door.
• Charlotte turned and saw a man being wheeled in on a wheelchair. Despite his seated position, his features were striking, his aura undeniably powerful, and his wolf-like, piercing eyes challenged anyone to maintain eye contact.
• Is this not the face of the man I saw flirting in the fitting room? He's the alpha of Thunderstorm pack?
• Charlotte was puzzled. In the fitting room, she had clearly seen him standing and embracing another woman, showing no signs of difficulty with his legs.
• What on earth is going on?
• Before she could ponder further, Gregory called out, “Charlotte, come quickly. This is the alpha of Thunderstorm Pack.” With an ingratiating smile, Gregory bowed slightly, “Mr. Zovkic, this is Lottie.”
• A twinge of pity crossed Gregory's face as he reflected on the once formidable alpha who was now seemingly incapacitated.
• It was then Hendrick's gaze met Charlotte's.