Chapter 99 The Perfect Candidate
Chapter 99 The Perfect Candidate
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The moment Cade pressed play on his phone, the entire clearing fell under a heavy silence.
At first, the recording sounded grainy, typical for a recording of this nature, but then Mr. Winters‘ voice emerged with clarity.
“This is the start of your downfall. Of everything. You should be grateful you have your parents… because quite frankly, you’d be six feet under if you didn’t.”
Gasps fluttered through the crowd. I could see the disbelief on their faces.
Someone whispered, “Is that real?”
“It sounds just like him…”
Our heightened hearing, a gift of our werewolf blood, captured every word with piercing. clarity. There was no mistaking the cadence of Winters‘ voice, the subtle arrogance laced. within every phrase.
Cade lifted his phone higher, determined to drive the words deeper into the hearts of everyone gathered.
“You triggered something in me… That woman. Arden Stone. Her family doesn’t want her. And now I’ll ensure you don’t get to live properly either. I’ll take everything–everything you both love.”
My breath hitched, the world spinning slightly beneath my feet. Since when did Cade have this? Since when had he recorded that moment?
Then Cade’s voice cut in over the playback. “And along with that threat… the healing facility where my sister was being treated was burned to ashes this morning.”
A chilling wave swept across the crowd. You could feel the collective realization trying to connect the dots.
“And you’re going to sit here,” Cade continued, his eyes narrowing at Winters, “and pretend none of this aligns?”
Whispers morphed into full–blown murmurs. The audience had grown restless; suspicion
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lingered in the air.
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For a moment. I thought we had him. For a brief instant, I believed it was enough. We had thrown him off.
But then, he laughed.
A cold, rich, mocking laugh echoed through the courtyard, snapping everyone out of their conversations.
Mr. Winters shook his head, hands tucked neatly behind his back, his posture composed.
“I’m sorry, Cade,” he said smoothly. “But audio like that can easily be tampered with in today’s modern world.” He tilted his head, a smile playing on his lips.
With an elegant gesture, he turned to a man in the crowd.
“This is Faulkner Mette,” he announced.
The man stepped forward, gangly and pale, his small beady eyes framed by an unsettling smirk. I remembered him; he was one of the officials included in the list of those who had received videos from Mr. Winters.
Faulkner approached, adjusting his glasses. “Based on my expert knowledge,” he began, inspecting the phone as if it were a dirty cloth, “the audio exhibits grainy distortion, and the tone wavers slightly in parts. It could have been artificially generated. It’s indeed convincing, yes. But it’s not irrefutable. I wouldn’t count this as verified evidence.”
A few voices in the crowd let out disappointed sighs. Others nodded, eager to dismiss what they had just heard.
Cade’s jaw clenched. He glared at Faulkner with narrowed eyes, then turned back to Mr. Winters.
“This isn’t going to be easy, huh?” I muttered under
my
breath.
Mr. Winters persisted with his act.
“See? Why would I utter those words, Cade?” he asked, feigning confusion. “And more importantly–why now? Why unveil this in front of the public only after your expulsion, only after your true heritage has been exposed?”
He took a few leisurely steps closer to Cade, his eyes gleaming with malice. “It’s almost as if
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you’re seeking a scapegoat–someone to throw under the bus so you can rewrite your narrative. You’re painting me as the villain, Cade. How convenient, isn’t it?”
Cade stood firm, but I could see the lines around his mouth tightening.
Mr. Winters placed a hand over his chest in mock sincerity. “I don’t resent you for not being royal, you know. Truly. But this behavior of yours? This spectacle? It’s spiteful. It falls beneath the standards we teach at the Elite.”
He paused, then delivered the killing blow.
“And as for the burning of that facility… again, do you have any proof? I wasn’t even in the North. I’ve been here since yesterday–preparing to close the Practor campaign with the other candidates.”
People started murmuring again.
“I donate to that facility,” he asserted, his voice now tinged with righteous indignation. “Why would I destroy a place I help fund? It would be a loss for me.”
He turned dramatically toward the royal viewing deck. “Would it not?”
Several nodded in agreement. Jaxon’s father from the Western faction murmured to his Beta, slowly inclining his head.
The shift was happening. Doubt had taken root.
The crowd began to lean toward Mr. Winters again, inching away from Cade.
And I hated it.
I hated every second of watching their faith sway like leaves in the wind. Cade told the truth. He gave them a voice when no one else dared to speak. And yet, here they were–turning on him as if he were nothing. I tightened my fists, my heart roaring in my chest.
Cade didn’t say anything. He stood there in the middle of the clearing, the fire in his eyes dimmed. The wind picked up, rustling the edges of the United Factions flags high above us. Even the whispers had ceased. The world was waiting to see what Cade Callahan would do
next.
Mr. Winters exhaled, his breath measured like a man who thought he had just won. “So,” he said softly, turning to the officials, “he came here for nothing.” He cast Cade a final glance and had the audacity to bow.
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