Single Mother of a Werewolf Baby

Chapter 162: The Last Job

These days, the Whitmore family no longer carried the radiance of their past. No matter how hard they tried, their business had been shrinking steadily for years. With the downfall came difficult choices. They were forced to let go of their long-time, experienced staff, replacing them with underpaid, inexperienced workers.

Only a handful of employees now operated the vast estate... none of whom dared speak up or question anything.

From the master bedroom upstairs came the unmistakable sounds of passionate sex. William Whitmore had always been loud in bed. He delighted in hearing his lovers scream beneath him... something that gave him a sick kind of satisfaction, one that no business triumph could rival.

Ironically, the older he got, and the weaker his body became, the more he craved those cries.

To satisfy this craving uninterrupted, he had instructed the house staff never to enter the first floor unless explicitly summoned. Everyone knew what was happening upstairs, but no one dared to intervene in their employer’s "private affairs."

These days, William was thoroughly infatuated with his secretary, Lydia Barker. She knew exactly how to please both his body and ego... something Jeanne, his wife, had never managed. Recently, Lydia had developed a new obsession... she wanted to make love in his own bed.

William understood the symbolism. For Lydia, it was a show of possession, a desire to claim him not just as a lover, but as hers. A woman always wants to cling to her man. And so, whenever he had the chance, he invited her to the estate.

As his secretary, Lydia’s visits raised no eyebrows. And she never asked for gifts, trips, or attention. She was content simply to be with him... in his bed. With his rapidly declining income, William found her low-maintenance needs refreshingly economical.

With a loud grunt, William collapsed onto her body, then rolled to the side, leaving Lydia’s voluptuous figure stretched across the bed. She sat up slowly, her breasts swaying slightly with the movement, her thin waist curving like it was carved by an artist.

William stared at her in awe. Her face might not have matched Jeanne’s in her prime, but the rest of her body... God, it was perfect! His desire flared again, but his aging body couldn’t keep up. All he could do was devour her with his eyes.

"William," Lydia purred, "relax. I’ll give you a massage."

His heart fluttered. He turned over, letting her straddle his back. She was completely naked. He could feel the warmth between her legs against his skin. Closing his eyes, he let himself melt beneath her touch. Before long, he was snoring loudly.

Lydia carefully slipped off him, got dressed, and walked silently to the corner bookshelf. She opened a drawer, took out a small key, and shut it again. Then, grabbing her handbag, she left the room without a sound.

She made her way to William’s study. The door was closed, but not locked... he rarely locked it, a convenience for the house staff who cleaned the room. After all, anything important was always kept in the locked cabinet.

Lydia entered confidently and headed straight for the cabinet. She used the key she’d taken and opened it. Inside, she found the file she was looking for and placed it on the desk. From her bag, she pulled out a different set of papers and replaced the contents of the file with them.

Once done, she returned the file neatly, locked the cabinet, and left the study with the grace of someone who had done this before. She returned to William’s room, returned the key to its place, then entered the bathroom.

her bag, she retrieved an old button-style phone, powered it on,

this Jeanne

"Yes. Who is this?"

I have information that concerns you. Your husband is having an affair with his secretary.

me this? What do

office knows. I just don’t like

telling the

for money, Ma’am. I’m just giving you the

off the phone, and

the bathroom. Then she neatly arranged

gently massaging his bare back from

was in place. All she had

back to

had grown up poor. Her parents had died in a construction accident, leaving her alone to care for her baby brother... the only family she had left. With no means to survive, she was forced to work as a sex worker at a young age in a

her a flexible schedule so she could care for

But fate was cruel.

Spinal Muscular Atrophy, a rare and fatal genetic disorder that gradually strips away a child’s ability to move, swallow, and eventually breathe. The only

million pounds.

that the treatment had to be administered immediately, before irreversible damage set in. She was willing to do anything... but no matter how hard she tried, her fundraising efforts felt like

to publish her story in the paper. She had all but lost

a call from a man. He offered to pay for the entire treatment, under one condition: She would work for

out of time, she

a burner phone... no name, no face, just a deep, emotionless voice that

used, perhaps as a

He hired private tutors.

never knew existed after dropping out at Level 8. Within six months, she had completed the equivalent of an MBA curriculum. It was

grooming her for some upper-class roleplay. She had

paid for plastic

just subtle adjustments to her face. Her jawline, the angle of her nose, her eyelids. It was refined, not extreme.