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Ten years later, I ran into Alpha Liam of my old Pack again at a Pack reunion. All our old Packmates, successful now, had Mated, borne pups,their own bonds settled and secure. Only Liam, the Alpha of StoneRidge Pack, was still single. Unmated. "Sophia, Alpha Liam's waiting for you. He hasn't dated or completed a bond in years." They'd barely finished speaking when Liam walked in. He walked in, sharp in a suit, and everyone gasped. Ten years later, Liam was still drop—dead gorgeous. The youthful arrogance of a Alpha was gone, though. A calm maturity now settled in his brow. Knowing our history—the Pack's designated future Alpha and Beta pair, the foundation of our generation—they made sure Liam and I sat together. He kept sneaking glances at me, like he had a million things to say. But all he managed was a soft,"Rena, long time no see." "Yeah, it's been a long time." I responded blandly, my face completely devoid of any emotion about our long—awaited reunion. Childhood sweethearts, totally inseparable, destined to Claim and Accept at eighteen. But we ended up like strangers. I remembered the party after high school graduation, when he cut a slice of watermelon for the new transfer student. This time, I didn't cry. I just quietly ended things. "All because of a piece of watermelon? As my future Beta, destined to stand by my side, can't you be a little more generous?" "Yeah. And no." He scoffed."Fine. Just try to stick with it for more than a couple days this time. Give me some peace." I didn't say anything. I just grabbed my bag and left the private room. This time, he didn't immediately follow me out like he always did. He figured I was just throwing another tantrum, that in a few days, once I cooled down, I'd naturally come crawling back to him, just like before. StoneRidge Pack's future Alpha and Beta, Mates destined since childhood—how could we truly sever our bond over a little tantrum? It was just an empty threat. After all, that's how all ninety—nine previous breakups went. But what he didn't know was that it was the straw that broke the camel's back. What he, in his Alpha arrogance, couldn't understand was that each of those ninety—nine times had caused a physical tear in our Companion Bond. He must have felt the pain—that deep, physiological ache of a bond fracturing, a warning from his very instincts. But he'd dismissed it as weakness, as inertia, not love. But as the bond was torn and superficially mended, again and again, it grew weaker, like a piece of paper crumpled ninety—nine times, impossible to smooth. Each new fracture of the Companion Bond hurt him less than the last. As his physical pain diminished, his apologies grew lazier. My heart, repeatedly stung and already riddled with holes, had finally run out of its last shred of warmth and hope. With that ninety—ninth breakup, I was truly done with him. Liam and I had always been known throughout the school as a match made in heaven. The future Alpha and his Beta Mate, the foundation of StoneRidge Pack's next generation. He was the school's golden boy Alpha, tall with long legs, a face so chiseled it was almost intimidating. He always rocked a cool, black windbreaker, all swagger and charm, drawing girls in like crazy. But his eyes? They were always, only, on me. We were childhood sweethearts, practically glued at the hip growing up. At our baby party when we were just one, it was like we picked each other, destined from the start. By seven, our parents had already joked about our future Mating ceremony. At fourteen, we were passing love notes. Sixteen, he officially asked me out. Seventeen, we promised each other to get into the Northern Academy... Everything was perfect until our last year in high school. That's when Chloe Hayes, a new transfer student, showed up in our class. When the homeroom teacher set up the "buddy system" for new students, she specifically paired Chloe with Liam. She made it crystal clear:"If you don't take this on, you can forget about dating Sophia Reed anywhere on campus. Even a future Alpha can't escape this responsibility." Liam, whose Alpha aloofness was legendary, had no choice but to take on the assignment. At first, it was just regular tutoring sessions and showing her around campus. But little by little, things started to feel really off. More and more, Chloe started appearing on our dates. And then, it was just them, without me. When Chloe mentioned she craved a cake from that trendy bakery in Soho everyone queues for, he ditched football training to get it for her. When Chloe posted on Instagram that she was feeling down, he stayed on the phone with her all night. And get this: one time, when she had period cramps, he borrowed money from me—his destined Mate—to buy her hot cocoa.... I was furious. We fought. And that's when I started breaking up with him, over and over again. The first time I dumped him, it was on the phone. There was this long silence on his end, then I heard his breathing, ragged and fast. It was a total downpour that night. He showed up at my place, soaked to the bone, and stood outside all night. He must have been reeling from the initial, searing pain of the Companion Bond tearing. His voice hoarse, he kept calling my name, begging me to forgive him. The second time I ended things, he skipped a whole day of classes, posted up outside my classroom door, his eyes bloodshot. He shoved a thick, messily written but totally heartfelt love letter into my hands, begging me to get back together, all humble and desperate. But as it happened more and more often, he finally seemed to figure out my bottom line... that I couldn't actually leave him! The pain numbed, his Alpha pride took over, and his apologies started getting lazier and lazier. What used to be an instant makeup turned into a day later, then three days, then a week... Until after 99 times. All that pent—up disappointment and heartache, simmering for way too long, just burst. I finally decided to leave him for good. The first thing I did when I got home, I fired up my laptop and, without a second thought, changed my top choice on the application. It was supposed to be Northern Academy, our Pack's future, our dream school, but I switched it to Southern Academy, thousands of miles away,far from our Pack's territory. Next, I started clearing out everything that reminded me of him. Limited edition plushies he'd given me, matching couple bracelets, little notes filled with sweet nothings, a thick stack of photos... I shoved it all into one massive cardboard box. The next day, I hauled that heavy box over to his place. His butler, who knew me well, showed me straight into the living room. The scent of Chloe was overwhelming, coating everything. In the past, I would have snarled, started a fight to defend my territory. But this time, it was as if my senses were broken. I focused only on what I had to do. In the spacious living room, a large, steel—grey wolf and a smaller, silver—grey wolf were playfully wrestling on the plush carpet. They were nipping and tumbling, the silver—grey one letting out excited yips and sweet, flirty growls. Chloe must've felt my stare, because she shifted back, turning around. She saw me standing there with the box, and a sweet, innocent smile bloomed on her face as she grabbed an oversized black T—shirt from the sofa to pull on. My eyes instantly fixed on the oversized black T—shirt Chloe was wearing. It was the limited edition one I'd hunted down for his birthday last year, hitting up multiple malls just to find it. It was a blatant scent—marking, a claim. When he got it, he was so surprised he picked me up and spun me around a few times, then whispered in my ear, his breath hot against my skin, "Phia gave this to me. I'm gonna wear it every single day." Turns out, his "wear it every single day" promise actually meant he could just casually lend it to another girl like this. Chloe must've felt my stare, because she turned around. Saw me standing there with the box, and a sweet, innocent smile bloomed on her face. "Oh, hey Sophia! You're here? Liam was just helping me with my shifting. I'm still not very good at it. I hope you don't mind? Please don't fight with him over this. We're just friends. I would never try to get in between you two." Liam didn't even flinch. He just lazily lifted his eyes, giving me a quick glance. His thumbs were just scrolling through videos on his phone. His voice was totally casual. "What do you want? Didn't we break up?" Watching him act like he didn't care at all, a wave of bitter self—mockery washed over me. I remembered the first time I'd brought up breaking up, how he'd been a mess in the pouring rain, practically begging me. Then I remembered how it took him longer and longer to win me back after our fights. And the last time, he'd just sent a WhatsApp message: "Stop being dramatic. I'll take you for BBQ tonight." He kept pushing my boundaries, and because I kept caving and forgiving him, he just got bolder and bolder. But he had no idea that even a camel eventually gets broken by the last straw. This time, the ninety—ninth breakup, I was genuinely done with him. There would not be a one—hundredth. "Exactly because we broke up, I wanted to return some of your stuff." "If you're just gonna be dramatic, you can just toss it. No need to bring it all the way over." "Okay." I nodded, no hesitation. Carrying the cardboard box, crammed with memories, I walked over to the giant dumpster nearby. Without a second thought, I just pitched the whole thing in. The box hit the empty bin with a dull thud.

💞📚"He Planned a Fake Wedding, So I Took Our Son and Vanished "📚Click to read more😍💕 When he said,"Go to Northern Europe to relax,"my hand paused while packing. Seven years had passed,and this was the first time he'd let me leave—I thought it was out of consideration. Then I overheard him telling our son in the study,"Marrying Vivian was just a pretense;don't tell your mother." I leaned against the wall and listened for a while,then went back to my room to change out of my ski suit into an old coat. As he saw me to the door,he asked,"Why did you take so little?" I said,"Because I'm not coming back."—He thought I was joking. ...... Once I'd cooled off,I went back upstairs and ran straight into Lorenzo in the hallway.I looked at the flashy red suit he had on."I thought you hated red." "That was then,this is now.And I'm helping a friend try on his wEdding sUit."Lorenzo reached for excuses. But it hit me then.Vivian Costa loved red.And ever since she came back,several red jackets had appeared in Lorenzo's closet.Red undershirts.Red socks.So there had been signs all along. "Trying on a wEdding sUit?Let me drive you.""No need!When I'm back,I'll bring pResents for you and Marco."He kIssed my forehead and hurried off.I almost called out to him,but I just shook my head. Everyone in the famiglia thought Lorenzo and I were the perfect couple.He hadn't looked down on where I came from,the back streets with nothing to my name. I worked nearly every day,brokered the truces that pulled the Falcone Family back from ruin more than once. Ten years side by side.We'd rebuilt the name of the Falcones.And only now did I find out:Lorenzo had been carrying Vivian Costa in his heart the whole time. I walked through the front door."Mama."Marco rushed over and wrapped his arms around my legs. "No matter what,you'll never leave me and Papa,right?"He'd sensed something.My heart ached.I crouched down. "If one day Papa and I weren't together anymore,who would you want to stay with?"Marco froze,his eyes filling with tEars. "I'm sorry." I held him close. He was only eight.Two grown-ups'problems shouldn't be laid on a child.I made Marco's favorite dInner. When Marco saw the food on the table,he suddenly started to cry. "Mama.You already know about Aunt Vivian and Papa getting married,don't you?Papa told me it's only a sham marriage,just on paper.Please don't be angry. "I sighed and gathered him into my arms.He just believed Lorenzo,the way children do. dInner was over.I saw that one of Lorenzo's soldiers had posted to his feed.The pHoto didn't show a face,but there it was on the neck—that small red mole.Lorenzo had one too. I knew the watch on his wrist.It belonged to Vivian Costa.The caption read:"The moon I lost will always come back. "The words were familiar.I went into the study and found a nOtebook.That exact line stared back at me.The account was Lorenzo's own. I picked up my pHone and sent a message.【Keep one of those pArtner sLots open for me.And have your cOnsigliere draw up pApers for my break from the Family.】 A few months ago,a man from my old neighborhood had asked me to build a crew with him in Scandinavia. Thirty percent of the take,and I wouldn't have to put in a cEnt.I'd kept turning it down.It was time to let go and reach for it. Almost midnight.Lorenzo came home dRunk,no gIft in his hands.His collar was undone,with a smear of lipstick on it. "Babe,why aren't you asleep yet?" He grinned and went straight into the bathroom.In the old days,he would have pulled me into a hug first. I heard a muffled sound and went to Marco's room.He pointed at a pHone screen—a post from Vivian Costa's daughter. She was sitting at a pink pIano,hugging a tAblet,beaming. The caption:【Thank you to the best dad in the world for my limited-edition custom pIano.】 "Mom.I've seen that pIano on Dad's computer."That one small sentence nearly broke me. Lorenzo was always saying,"Boys should be raised lean."He was hard on Marco. When the boy wanted a toy,he almost never bought it.How could he shower another woman's girl with everything and be so harsh with his own son? "Sweet boy.Mom will buy it for you from now on."I comforted Marco until he fell asleep,then went back to the living room.Lorenzo came out. I held my anger down."Didn't you say you were bringing Marco a gIft?""Forgot. I'll get him something next time."He came over and wrapped his arms around me.Once,a touch like this would have undone me.Now nothing moved in me at all. 🚨 Plot twist alert! You won't believe what happens next…

Chapter 1 Olivia's POV I slumped against the passenger seat as Ryan's car cruised through the palm-lined streets of Los Angeles. My eyelids felt heavy after a twelve-hour shift at Carter Enterprises. The quarterly marketing campaign required us all to work overtime, and as a junior marketing executive, I was stuck with weekend work. "You still with me, babe?" Ryan glanced over, his perfectly styled dark hair catching the sunset's glow. "Barely." I stifled a yawn. "Remind me why we're going to this party when I could be face-planting into my pillow right now?" "Because Sophia would kill you if you missed her birthday." He reached over and squeezed my knee. "And because you look stunning in that dress I bought for you." I glanced down at the black cocktail dress he'd insisted I wear. The neckline plunged lower than I'd normally choose, and the hemline rode high enough to make me self-conscious every time I sat down. Ryan had shown up at my apartment with the dress in a boutique bag, eyes gleaming with anticipation as I'd tried it on. "I still think it's a bit much for a birthday party," I tugged at the fabric, trying to cover more of my chest. "Liv, we've been dating for two years. I know what looks good on you better than you do. Trust me, every guy at this party will wish he was me tonight." "Is that what this is about? Marking your territory?" "Can you blame me?" He winked as he turned onto Sophia's street, where luxury cars lined both sides. Sophia's recently purchased triplex stood illuminated against the darkening sky, music pulsing from within. For someone only turning twenty-five, she'd done remarkably well for herself in real estate development. Ryan found a spot half a block away and cut the engine. "Ready to make an entrance, Ms. Morgan?" "As I'll ever be." I grabbed my purse and the gift bag containing the vintage champagne Ryan had suggested we bring. The cool evening air hit my bare shoulders as I stepped out of the car, making me shiver. Ryan's arm slid around my waist, his hand resting dangerously low on my hip. "See? Worth getting dressed up for." He nodded toward the house. "This place is insane." We walked up the curved driveway where twinkling lights had been strung through the palm trees. The front door stood open, spilling light, music, and laughter onto the porch. "Olivia! You made it!" Sophia appeared in the doorway, resplendent in a gold sequined dress. "I was starting to think you'd stood me up!" "My work tried its best to keep me away," I laughed, accepting her enthusiastic hug. "Happy birthday, Soph." "And Ryan, looking delicious as always." She air-kissed his cheeks. "Come in, come in! Everyone's already two drinks ahead of you." Ryan's hand pressed against the small of my back as we entered the foyer, which opened to a massive great room where at least thirty people mingled. The space featured floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the twinkling Los Angeles skyline. "Drink?" Ryan asked, already scanning the room. "God, yes. The strongest thing they've got." He chuckled. "That's my girl. Be right back." As Ryan disappeared toward the bar setup, I heard a familiar squeal from across the room. "Olivia Morgan, get your ass over here!" I turned to see Emilia waving frantically from a plush sectional sofa. My best friend since college was already flushed from alcohol, her blonde hair falling in waves around her shoulders. "Em!" I navigated through clusters of guests to reach her. "How long have you been here?" "Long enough to know the bartender's life story." She stood, wobbling slightly in her heels, and embraced me. She pulled back, holding me at arm's length to examine my outfit. "Holy shit, your boobs look amazing in that dress. Did Ryan pick it out?" I felt my cheeks warm. "Is it that obvious?" "Only because I've known you for eight years, and you've never willingly shown that much cleavage." She smirked. "Not that I'm complaining. If I had your rack, I'd show it off, too." "Could you say that a little louder? I don't think everyone in Malibu heard you." "Sorry, can't help it. You're too easy to embarrass." Emilia's eyes danced with mischief as she took another sip of her drink. "By the way, have you seen our birthday girl? I swear she was here greeting people and then just... vanished." I scanned the crowded room. "No, actually. Where did Ryan go? He was supposed to be getting me a drink." "Maybe he's outside? I saw some people heading to the back lawn earlier." Emilia shrugged. "Or he could be sneaking a cigarette." I narrowed my eyes. "He told me he quit three months ago. If I catch him smoking after all that 'I'm done with nicotine forever, baby' bullshit, I'll kill him myself." "Men lie about the stupidest things. Like, just admit you still smoke and save us both the drama." "I'm going to find him," I said, tugging at my dress, which had ridden up dangerously high. "If he's outside with a cigarette, I'm putting it on his favorite shoes." "That's my girl." Emilia raised her glass. "I'll be right here judging everyone's outfit choices when you get back." I weaved through the crowded living room, nodding at half-familiar faces from past gatherings. The kitchen was jammed with people mixing drinks. No Ryan. The back patio held a group playing some drinking games with shots and ping pong balls. No Ryan among them. "Looking for someone?" A tall guy with a man-bun approached, his eyes dropping to my cleavage before meeting my gaze. "My boyfriend. Tall, dark hair, probably looking smug about something." He laughed. "Haven't seen him. But I'd be happy to keep you company until he shows up." "Hard pass, but thanks." I turned away, irritation building. Where the hell was Ryan with my drink? I climbed the modern floating staircase to the next floor, where the noise from the party became more muffled. The hallway was dimly lit and had several closed doors. A sound caught my attention – a moan? A laugh? Something between the two. It was faint, coming from further down the hall. The sound came again, more distinct this time. Definitely a moan. Great. A couple had found a private spot to hook up at Sophia's party. How classy. I was about to turn back when I noticed a slightly ajar door at the end of the hallway, a sliver of light spilling onto the hardwood floor. Something compelled me forward – curiosity, or perhaps a sixth sense I didn't know I had. As I approached, the sounds became clearer. A woman's voice, breathless and urgent: "Fuck, yes, right there." I froze. The voice was familiar. A male voice responded, low and commanding: "You like that, don't you? Tell me how much you want it." My stomach dropped. Ryan's voice. I should have turned away, run down those stairs, and straight out the front door. Instead, I moved closer, pushing the door open wider. The scene burned into my retinas like a brand. Sophia bent over her dresser; her gold dress pushed up around her waist. Ryan was behind her, his pants around his ankles, hands gripping her hips as he thrust into her. "Harder," Sophia gasped. "Make me feel it tomorrow." "What the fuck?" The words escaped me before I could stop them. They both froze. Ryan's head whipped around, his eyes widening with shock. Chapter 2 Olivia's POV Ryan's head whipped around, his eyes widening with shock. For a moment, time suspended itself. My lungs refused to work, and the room seemed to tilt sideways. "Liv—" Ryan stammered, still connected to Sophia. "This isn't—" "What it looks like?" I finished, my voice surprisingly steady despite the earthquake happening inside me. "Because it looks like you're fucking my friend on her birthday while I wait downstairs for a drink that's never coming." Sophia turned her head, meeting my gaze without a hint of shame. She didn't even bother to adjust her dress; she just rested her elbows on the dresser and sighed like I'd interrupted a business meeting. "Oh, Olivia," she said, her voice dripping with condescension. "Did you think a man like Ryan would be satisfied with just you?" Ryan finally pulled away from her, fumbling to pull up his pants. "Baby, please, this is just a... a thing. It doesn't mean anything." "A thing?" I repeated, heat rising to my face. "How long has this 'thing' been happening?" Before either could answer, I heard footsteps behind me. "Liv? Did you find—" Emilia's voice cut off as she appeared at my side, taking in the scene. "Holy fucking shit." Ryan's face paled further. "This isn't what—" "If you say 'this isn't what it looks like' one more time, I swear to God I will castrate you with my bare hands," Emilia snapped, her arm wrapping protectively around my shoulders. Sophia straightened up, finally adjusting her dress with leisurely movements. She tossed her hair back and had the audacity to smirk. "Ryan and I have an understanding. It's just sex. Great sex, but still just sex." "An understanding?" I laughed, the sound brittle and foreign to my ears. "And when exactly were you planning to include me in this understanding? After you gave me chlamydia, or before?" "Don't be dramatic," Ryan said, tucking in his shirt. "We've been careful." "Oh, careful! Well, that makes it all better then!" I threw my hands up. "You've been carefully fucking my friend behind my back. Such consideration!" Sophia leaned against the dresser, crossing her arms. "We're all adults here. Monogamy is so... limiting, don't you think?" Emilia stepped forward. "The only thing limiting around here is your moral compass, you backstabbing bitch." "Watch it," Sophia warned, her eyes narrowing. "Or what? You'll sleep with my boyfriend too? Get in line." Emilia turned to Ryan. "And you. You pathetic excuse for a man. Two years? Two fucking years of her life wasted on you?" Ryan finally managed to buckle his belt. "Liv, baby, please. We can talk about this. It's just physical. It doesn't change how I feel about you." "You feel so much for me that you bought me this dress." I gestured to my outfit. "So, I could be downstairs putting on a show for your friends while you're up here with your dick in Sophia?" "The dress looks amazing on you," he offered weakly. I stared at him in disbelief. "That's what you're going with right now? Fashion compliments?" "I'm just saying—" "No, I'm done listening to what you're 'just saying.'" I turned to leave, then spun back. "Two years, Ryan. Two years of me rearranging my schedule for you and believing every word out of your mouth. Was any of it real?" He took a step toward me. "Of course, it was real. I love you, Liv." "Spare me," I spat. "If this is your version of love, I want nothing to do with it." Sophia sighed dramatically. "Can we wrap this up? I have guests downstairs." "You have one less now," I said, turning away. "Enjoy your birthday present. You two deserve each other." Emilia shot them both a final glare before following me out. We marched down the hallway, my legs somehow carrying me forward despite feeling like they might collapse. "I've got you," Emilia whispered, her arm still around me as we descended the stairs. The party continued below us, oblivious to the implosion that had just occurred upstairs. The music seemed too loud now, the laughter too jarring. We pushed through the crowd toward the front door. Someone called my name, but I kept moving, my eyes fixed on the exit. The cool night air hit my face as we stepped outside, and only then did I realize I was shaking. We made it to the sidewalk when I heard the front door open behind us. I refused to look back. "Olivia!" Ryan called out. "Wait!" Emilia turned, positioning herself between us like a shield. "Go back to your birthday girl, asshole." "This is between me and Liv," he insisted but made no move to follow us. "There is no 'me and Liv' anymore," I called back, still walking. "We're done." His response was lost as we rounded the corner, the sounds of the party fading behind us. Once out of sight, my composure crumbled. I stopped walking, my breath coming in gasps. "I can't believe…I can't…" I pressed my hand to my mouth. "I know, honey. I know." Emilia pulled me into a hug. "Let it out." "Two years," I whispered against her shoulder. "Two fucking years." She stroked my hair. "I'm so sorry, Liv." I pulled back, wiping angrily at my eyes. "Did you know? About them?" Emilia hesitated. "Not for sure. But I had my suspicions." "What? Why didn't you say anything?" She sighed, fishing her phone from her purse. "I saw them at Barton's Café last month. They said they'd run into each other, but it seemed... off. The way they were sitting, the way he touched her arm. I didn't want to say anything without proof. I didn't want to hurt you if I was wrong." "Well, now we have proof," I said bitterly. "Let me call us a cab," Emilia said, tapping her phone. "My car's not here. Jake dropped me off." I hugged myself against the chill, suddenly aware of how exposed I felt in the dress Ryan had chosen. "No cabs available. Let's walk a bit. I'll keep trying for a ride and call Jake. Maybe he can pick us up." "Fine by me." I just wanted to get as far away from Sophia's house as possible. "I'd walk to Mexico now if it meant never seeing Ryan again." We started down the sidewalk, my heels clicking against the concrete. The neighborhood was upscale, with sprawling houses set back from the road, but the street itself was poorly lit. The rumble of an engine cut her off as a convertible slowed beside us. Four guys crowded inside, the stench of alcohol wafting our way. The driver leaned over, his eyes crawling over my body before settling on my chest. "Hey, babes, want a ride?" He grinned, revealing a gold tooth. "We got plenty of room on our laps." His friends burst into laughter. The one in the passenger seat raised a bottle. "We're celebrating! Don't you wanna celebrate with us?" "Fuck off," Emilia snapped, pulling me closer. "Ooh, feisty!" The driver killed the engine. "I like feisty." One guy, thick-necked with a tribal tattoo, vaulted over the door. He staggered toward us, pointing at Emilia. "You got a mouth on you, blondie. Let's see what else it can do." Before I could react, he lunged forward and grabbed Emilia by her hair, yanking her head back. She screamed, clawing at his arm. "Let her go!" I shouted, my marketing executive persona vanishing as pure rage took over. I swung my purse, connecting with his temple. He stumbled but kept his grip on Emilia's hair. "Your friend wants to play rough, huh?" He leered at me, eyes fixed on my chest. "Nice tits. Bet they bounce real good." Chapter 3 Olivia's POV My fist throbbed from connecting with the guy's head, but it hadn't done enough. Emilia whimpered as he yanked her hair harder, forcing her head back at an unnatural angle. "Let her go, you piece of shit!" I hissed, fear and fury colliding in my chest. "Or what?" He laughed, his breath reeking of whiskey. "You gonna hit me with your little purse again?" The other men from the car were climbing out now, their movements predatory as they circled around us. The driver, with his gold tooth catching the dim streetlight, stepped toward me. "C'mon baby, we just wanna have some fun." His eyes never left my chest. "You're dressed like you want attention. We're just giving you what you want." "I want you to let my friend go and fuck off back to whatever sewer you crawled out of," I spat, backing away until I felt a tree behind me. "Ooh, she's got a mouth on her too," said another shorter but broad-shouldered guy wearing a baseball cap. "I like that. Makes it more fun when they fight a little." The driver reached for me, his fingers grazing my arm. I slapped his hand away. "Don't touch me!" "Playing hard to get?" He moved closer, pinning me against the tree. "That's cute." Emilia was still struggling against Tribal Tattoo's grip. "Liv, run! Just run!" "I'm not leaving you," I said, looking desperately around for anything I could use as a weapon. The driver pressed his body against mine; one hand braced on the tree beside my head. "Your friend's not going anywhere, and neither are you." His other hand reached for my breast. "Let's see if these feel as good as they look." I brought my knee up hard, aiming for his groin, but he twisted away at the last second. My knee glanced off his thigh. "Feisty bitch!" He grabbed my wrist, squeezing until I gasped in pain. Headlights suddenly illuminated the scene as another car screeched to a halt beside us. The engine cut off, and the driver's door opened. "Is there a problem here?" A deep voice cut through the night. A tall figure emerged from the shadows into the spill of a distant streetlight. Broad-shouldered and imposing in what looked like an expensive suit, he moved with a quiet confidence that commanded attention. "Mind your own business, man," Gold Tooth snarled, but I noticed he'd loosened his grip on my wrist. The newcomer stepped closer, and I caught my breath. Even in the dim light, I recognized him immediately. Alexander Carter. My boss's boss's boss. The CEO of Carter Enterprises, where I'd been working as a junior marketing executive for the past eight months. "I believe these ladies were telling you to leave them alone," he said, his voice calm but edged with steel. "I suggest you listen." Gold Tooth sneered. "What are you gonna do about it? There's four of us and one of you." Alexander didn't even blink. "True. But I've already called the police, and they're on their way. I'm sure they'd be interested to know about four drunk men assaulting two women on a public street." Tribal Tattoo finally released Emilia's hair, shoving her forward. "Whatever, man. These bitches ain't worth the trouble." Emilia stumbled toward me, and I caught her, pulling her close. "You okay?" I whispered. She nodded, rubbing her scalp. "Bastard nearly ripped my hair out." Gold Tooth took a step toward Carter, puffing out his chest. "You think you're some kind of hero? Rich boy in his fancy car?" Alexander simply stared him down, not moving an inch. "I think I'm someone who doesn't want to see two women harassed by drunken idiots. Now, you can leave on your own, or you can wait for the police. Your choice." For a tense moment, I thought Gold Tooth might throw a punch. Instead, he spat on the ground near Alexander's polished shoes. "Let's go," he muttered to his friends. "These sluts aren't worth jail time." They piled back into their convertible, engine roaring to life. Gold Tooth revved it aggressively before peeling away, tires screeching. Alexander turned to us. "Are you both all right?" Up close, he was even more intimidating than he was at company events. Tall, with sharp features and piercing gray eyes, he had the kind of face that belonged in business magazines, where it often appeared. Despite the late hour, his dark hair was neatly styled, not a strand out of place. "We're okay," I managed, suddenly conscious of my appearance: disheveled hair, makeup probably smeared from crying earlier, and this ridiculous dress that now felt like a terrible mistake. "Thank you for stopping." "Do you need a ride somewhere?" he asked, his eyes briefly dropping to my chest before snapping back to my face. "Our cab canceled," Emilia said, still rubbing her scalp. "And my boyfriend's not answering his phone." Alexander gestured to his car, a sleek black car. "I'm happy to drive you both home." I hesitated. This was Alexander Carter, the man who signed my paychecks and whose name was on the building where I worked. The man was known for his ruthless business tactics and cold demeanor. The last thing I needed was for him to realize I was one of his employees, especially looking like this. "That's very kind," I said carefully, "but we don't want to impose." "It's no imposition," he replied. "I'd rather not leave you out here after what just happened." Emilia looked at me with raised eyebrows, silently communicating: "Are you crazy? Free ride in a sleek car with a hot, rich guy? Say yes!" "If you're sure it's not too much trouble," I relented. "Not at all." He opened the backseat door. "Please." The car's interior was all black leather and gleaming surfaces. It smelled of expensive cologne and a new car, a heady combination that made my head spin—or maybe that was the adrenaline crash. "I'm Alexander Carter," he said as he slid behind the wheel. "Olivia," I replied, deliberately omitting my last name. "And this is Emilia." "Pleasure to meet you both, despite the circumstances." He started the engine, which purred to life. "Where am I taking you?" Emilia gave him her address first, and then I gave him mine. "Rough night?" he asked as we pulled away from the curb. Emilia snorted. "You could say that. We were at a birthday party where Liv caught her boyfriend banging the birthday girl." "Emilia!" I hissed, mortified. Alexander's eyes flicked to me in the rearview mirror. "I see. I'm sorry to hear that." "It's fine," I mumbled, wishing I could disappear into the leather seat. "It's not fine," Emilia insisted. "Ryan is a cheating scumbag who deserves to have his dick fall off." A small smile tugged at the corner of Alexander's mouth. "I take it Ryan is the ex-boyfriend?" "As of about a few minutes ago, yes," I confirmed, wondering why I was discussing my love life with my CEO. "Well, for what it's worth," he said, his eyes meeting mine briefly in the mirror again, "he sounds like an idiot." Chapter 4 Olivia's POV The car fell silent as we drove through the streets of Los Angeles, the city lights blurring past the windows. I studied Alexander's profile, the strong jaw, and straight nose, wondering why he'd stopped to help us. Everything I'd heard about him at work painted him as cold, distant, focused only on the bottom line. We reached Emilia's apartment building first. Alexander pulled up to the curb, the engine purring quietly as he shifted into park. "This is me," Emilia announced, gathering her purse. She leaned over to hug me, using the moment to whisper in my ear. "Holy fuck, Liv. He's hot as balls. If he wants to bang you senseless tonight, you better fucking do it. The best way to get over Ryan is to get under the CEO. Shit, those hands look like they know what they're doing." I pulled back, shooting her a death glare that could have melted steel. "What?" she mouthed innocently before turning to Alexander. "Thanks for the ride, knight in shining Armani. You're a lifesaver." "It was no trouble," he replied politely. Emilia opened the door, then paused to give me one last meaningful look. "Call me tomorrow with ALL the details." She waggled her eyebrows suggestively. "Goodbye, Emilia," I said firmly, my cheeks burning. She blew me a kiss and slammed the door, sauntering toward her building with a little extra sway in her hips, no doubt for Alexander's benefit. As we pulled away, I sank deeper into the leather seat, mortified. "I'm so sorry about her. She has no filter." Alexander's eyes met mine in the rearview mirror. "No need to apologize. She seems like a good friend." "The best," I admitted. "Even if she occasionally makes me want to strangle her." His lips quirked upward, almost a smile but not quite. "Those are often the best kinds of friends." We lapsed into silence as he navigated through the streets of Los Angeles. The city lights streamed past the windows, creating a kaleidoscope effect that matched my swirling thoughts. I caught Alexander glancing at me in the mirror a few times, his expression unreadable. "Left at the next light," I directed as we approached my neighborhood. He nodded, making the turn smoothly. "Here we are," he announced, pulling up to my apartment building. It wasn't fancy by LA standards but clean and in a decent area. I could just barely afford it on my junior executive salary. He turned off the engine and, to my surprise, got out to open my door. His hand extended to help me out, warm and solid as I took it. The contact sent an unexpected jolt up my arm. "Thank you again," I said, reluctantly letting go of his hand. "For everything tonight." Alexander studied me for a moment, his gray eyes intense. "I hope you're able to move past what happened tonight. Your boyfriend, or rather your ex-boyfriend, clearly didn't appreciate what he had." The unexpected kindness in his voice made my throat tighten. "I'll be fine," I managed. "I'm sure you will," he agreed. "Someone like you won't stay single for long unless you want to." I wasn't sure how to respond to that. Was Alexander Carter, CEO of Carter Enterprises, flirting with me? No, that was ridiculous. He was just being polite. "Goodnight, Olivia," he said, stepping back toward his car. "Goodnight, Alexander. And thank you for the ride." He nodded once, then slid back into his car. I watched as he drove away, his taillights disappearing around the corner before I turned and entered my building. The elevator ride to my fourth-floor apartment felt endless. My keys jangled in my shaking hands as I unlocked my door, stepping into the darkness of my living room. I flipped on the light, tossed my purse on the counter, and kicked off my heels. The silence of my apartment pressed in around me. Just hours ago, I'd been getting ready for what I thought would be a normal night out with my boyfriend. Now, everything had changed. I peeled off the black cocktail dress and threw it in the trash. Never again would I wear something just because a man told me it looked good on me. In my bathroom, I scrubbed off my makeup. The woman in the mirror looked tired, her eyes red-rimmed but clear. I pulled on an oversized t-shirt and fell onto my bed, staring at the ceiling. My phone buzzed on the nightstand, probably Ryan finally realizing what he'd lost. I ignored it. Why had he done it? Two years together, and he throws it all away for Sophia? Had he been sleeping with her all along? The signs had been there: the late nights at work, the sudden business trips, the way his phone was always face-down when I was around. I'd trusted him completely. What a fool I'd been. My phone buzzed again. This time, I glanced at it. Emilia. "You home safe? Did Mr. CEO make a move? Please say yes." I texted back: "Yes, I'm home. No, he didn't. Go to sleep." Her response was immediate: "Boring! But seriously, you okay?" "I will be," I replied and realized I meant it. I tossed my phone onto the nightstand and stared at the ceiling, my mind racing despite my exhaustion. Sleep seemed impossible. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Ryan thrusting into Sophia, her smug face, his pathetic excuses. "Fuck," I whispered to the empty room. "Two years down the drain." I rolled over, burying my face in my pillow. Two years of holidays, family gatherings, inside jokes—all tainted now. But something else kept intruding on my thoughts: Alexander Carter's piercing gray eyes in the rearview mirror. Alexander Carter. My CEO. The man I'd just met while looking like a complete disaster. "He probably won't even remember me tomorrow," I muttered, flipping onto my back again. "Why would he? He's Alexander fucking Carter." The ceiling offered no answers. I'd worked at Carter Enterprises for eight months and never once spoken to him. I'd seen him striding through the lobby, standing at podiums during company-wide meetings, his face on the company website and annual reports. Always distant. Always untouchable. And now he'd seen me at my absolute worst, heartbroken in a slutty dress. "Great first impression, Olivia. Really professional." I snorted at my own sarcasm. It was as if Alexander Carter would ever connect the disheveled woman he'd rescued with Olivia Morgan, a junior marketing executive. Our worlds didn't intersect. He inhabited the executive floor with its panoramic views of Los Angeles. At the same time, I worked in my cubicle fifteen floors below, crafting social media campaigns for products I could barely afford. I pulled the covers over my head, trying to force sleep to come. But my brain had other ideas, conjuring an image of running into Alexander in the office elevator. Would he recognize me? Would I have the courage to thank him again? Would he look at me with those intense gray eyes and see past the professional facade to the woman he'd rescued? "As if," I mumbled into my pillow. "He probably rescues women from creeps every weekend. It's probably a rich guy's hobby." But what if he did remember me? What if our paths crossed in the office cafeteria or during a presentation? What would I say? Chapter 5 Alexander's POV I parked my car in the circular driveway of my parent's estate, taking a moment to prepare myself for the inevitable Carter family dynamics. Sunday dinner at the Carter mansion, a tradition as old as the oak trees lining the property, was something I both dreaded and looked forward to. The mansion stood like a monument to old money, with stone façades and manicured gardens that screamed, "We've had wealth for generations." My phone buzzed with an email from work, but I ignored it. Work could wait, but family obligations couldn't, especially when Grandfather Harold was involved. I straightened my tie and headed inside, where Martha, our longtime housekeeper, greeted me with a warm smile. "Mr. Alexander, everyone's waiting in the drawing room. Your grandfather arrived early." That was never a good sign. Grandfather arriving early meant he had an agenda. "Is Victoria here?" I asked, handing Martha my coat. "Yes, sir. With her husband. They arrived about an hour ago." Perfect. My cousin Victoria and her investment banker husband Thomas, the power couple who never let anyone forget how perfect their life was. The drawing room buzzed with conversation that stopped when I entered. Mother rose from her seat, elegant as always in her pearl necklace and tailored dress. "Alexander, darling. We were beginning to worry." I kissed her cheek. "Traffic was terrible. Sorry, I'm late." Father nodded from his armchair, whiskey in hand. "Son." That was Father, a man of few words unless discussing business or golf. Victoria sat perched on the antique sofa, her husband's arm draped around her shoulder in that possessive way I found irritating. My sister Valentina was there, too, scrolling through her phone. But it was Grandfather Harold who commanded the room from his wheelchair. At seventy-eight, he might have lost some mobility but none of his mental sharpness or business acumen. "Alexander," he barked. "Sit down. We need to talk." I took a seat across from him. "Good to see you too, Grandfather." "Don't get smart with me, boy. I've been waiting." Victoria smirked. "Some of us manage to arrive on time, cousin dear." I ignored her. "What's this about? I thought this was just dinner." Grandfather Harold waved his hand dismissively. "Dinner can wait. This is about the future of Carter Enterprises." The room fell silent. When Grandfather talked about the company's future, everyone paid attention. He'd built Carter Enterprises from a small family business into a corporate empire and, at seventy-eight, still held the controlling stake. "I've been updating my will," he announced. Mother gasped softly. Father set down his whiskey. "Oh, relax; I'm not dying yet," Grandfather snapped. "Just getting my affairs in order. And I've made some decisions about the company shares." I leaned forward. As CEO, I had a significant stake in the company, but Grandfather's controlling shares would eventually determine who truly ran Carter Enterprises. "Alexander," he fixed his steely gaze on me. "You've done well as CEO. Profits are up. The board is happy. But there's something missing." "Missing?" I frowned. "Our last quarter was our best in five years." "I'm not talking about business." He thumped his cane on the floor. "I'm talking about family. Stability. A legacy." Victoria's husband coughed discreetly. Victoria's smile widened. "What exactly are you saying, Grandfather?" Harold Carter leaned forward in his wheelchair. "I'm saying that to inherit my controlling shares in Carter Enterprises, you need to be married within six months." The room exploded in reactions. Mother gasped again. Father actually put down his drink. Valentina looked up from her phone. Victoria burst into delighted laughter. "Married?" I stared at him. "You can't be serious." "Dead serious." Grandfather's expression didn't change. "Carter Enterprises has always been family-run. Family means stability. Commitment." "I'm committed to the company!" "But not to anything or anyone else." Grandfather shook his head. "You're thirty-three, Alexander. Your relationships last shorter than some of our quarterly reports." Victoria couldn't contain herself. "Oh, this is priceless. Is Alexander getting married? He can't even keep a girlfriend past the three-month mark." "Thank you for that astute observation, Victoria," I said, forcing a smile. "Always a pleasure to have your support." Uncle Richard, Victoria's father, chuckled from the corner of the room. "The boy does have a track record." "A track record?" My father set his tumbler down with more force than necessary. "Last year, we selected a perfectly suitable woman for him. The engagement was announced in the Times, for God's sake. And then what happened, Alexander?" I loosened my tie slightly. "Dad—" "He canceled it two weeks before the wedding," Father continued, addressing the room like I wasn't there. "The merger nearly fell apart because of it." Aunt Patricia gasped dramatically. "Penelope Langford? Such a lovely girl and from a good family. What a shame." "She wasn't right for me," I said firmly. Valentina finally looked up from her phone. "He didn't like her. Said she reminded him of a corporate spreadsheet – technically perfect but utterly boring." "Thank you for sharing that, Val," I muttered. My sister shrugged and went back to her phone. "Just telling it like it is." Grandfather Harold thumped his cane again. "Enough! The terms are simple. Alexander marries within six months, or Victoria receives my controlling stake in the company." Victoria nearly spilled her champagne in excitement. "Really, Grandfather? You'd give me control?" Her husband Thomas straightened his posture, dollar signs practically visible in his eyes. "I didn't build this company for forty years to watch it get dismantled by your husband's investment firm," Grandfather snapped at Victoria. "But at least you understand commitment." I stood up, pacing the Persian rug. "This is absurd. You're reducing the future of our family business to whether or not I get married? What century is this?" "The century where actions have consequences," Grandfather replied. "Victoria may be insufferable—" "Hey!" Victoria protested. "—but she's stable. Married. Committed." Victoria's smirk returned. "Face it, Alexander. You couldn't commit to a woman if your life depended on it. Now your career does, and we all know how that's going to end." Something snapped inside me. I'd tolerated Victoria's barbs for years, but this was different. This was my life's work at stake. "You know what, Victoria? You're wrong." "Am I?" She swirled her champagne. "Name one relationship you've had that lasted longer than a corporate quarterly report." My cousin Matthew, who'd been silently watching the drama unfold, whistled low. "She's got you there, Alex." I straightened my shoulders. "I'll do it. I'll get married within six months." The room fell silent again. "To whom?" Father asked skeptically. "I'll figure that out." Victoria burst into laughter. "Oh, this is too good! Alexander Carter, CEO and eligible bachelor, desperately seeking a wife. Should we put an ad in the classifieds?" Her husband joined in. "Maybe we should start interviewing candidates. Create a shortlist." "I don't need help finding someone," I said through gritted teeth. Aunt Elizabeth, who'd been quietly knitting in the corner, looked up. "What about that nice PR director at your company? Jennifer, something?" "She's married, Mother," Victoria said. "Oh. Well, what about your assistant?" "I'm not marrying my assistant, Aunt Elizabeth." Grandfather Harold raised his hand for silence. "The terms are set. Six months from today." Uncle Richard raised his glass. "To Alexander's impending nuptials! May he find a bride before Victoria gets his office." Victoria clinked glasses with her father. "I'm already planning where to put my new desk." I clenched my jaw. "Enjoy the fantasy while it lasts, cousin. I'm not losing the company." "Six months, Alexander," Grandfather reminded me. "The clock starts now." Chapter 6 Olivia I slept fitfully, my mind a carousel of images: Ryan's shocked face, Sophia's smug smirk, and, oddly, Alexander Carter's piercing gray eyes watching me in the rearview mirror. The weekend crawled by in a haze. I spent most of the time curled up on my couch, binging old movies, eating takeout, and ignoring the world, especially Ryan's desperate attempts to reach me. I let myself grieve, but by Sunday night, I was done crying; Ryan didn't deserve another tear. Monday morning arrived with brutal efficiency. I dragged myself into the shower, letting the hot water pound away the remnants of Friday night's disaster. No tears; I'd shed enough of those already. Ryan didn't deserve them. I wrapped myself in a towel and stared at my closet. What does one wear after catching their boyfriend balls-deep in another woman? I opted for armor: a crisp white blouse, a black pencil skirt, and highest heels. The kind of outfit that said, "I'm fine, fuck you very much." The cab ride to Carter Enterprises took twenty minutes. I spent it scrolling through Ryan's increasingly desperate texts. "Baby, please let me explain" "It was a mistake." "Call me." "I love YOU, not her." Delete. Delete. Delete. Delete. Carter Enterprises occupied a gleaming sixty-story tower in downtown Los Angeles. I'd been working there for eight months as a junior marketing executive, and despite the drama of my personal life imploding, I still felt a flutter of pride walking through those glass doors. The elevator whisked me to the 42nd floor. I stepped into the marketing department, where Nova was already at her desk, sipping her usual triple-shot espresso. "Morning, sunshine!" she called, then squinted at me. "You look different. New lipstick?" "New life status. Single." I dropped my bag at my desk. Before Nova could respond, Vivian breezed in, her red curls bouncing as she walked. "Ladies, you won't believe the email I just got. Apparently, the big boss himself will be sitting in on our presentation this week." "Alexander Carter?" I nearly choked on the words. "The one and only," Vivian confirmed, perching on the edge of my desk. "Why do you look like you've seen a ghost? It's not like you'll have to talk to him." If only she knew. "I'm just surprised," I managed. "He doesn't usually attend department presentations." Alice arrived last, as usual, balancing a stack of folders and her phone. "Sorry, I'm late. The barista got my order wrong twice. What did I miss?" "Alexander Carter's coming to our presentation, and Olivia's single," Nova summarized. Alice's eyes widened. "What? Which one should I address first?" "The presentation," I said quickly. "It's more important." "Like hell it is," Nova swiveled her chair to face me fully. "Spill it, Morgan. What happened with Ryan?" I sighed, lowering my voice. "I caught him fucking Sophia at her birthday party." All three women froze. "Sophia Santos? The one whose party you rushed off to?" Vivian clarified, her mouth hanging open. I nodded. "That backstabbing cunt," Nova breathed. "I hope his dick falls off," Alice added, patting my shoulder. "That's almost verbatim what Emilia said," I laughed despite myself. "What did you do?" Vivian leaned in, hungry for details. "I dumped him on the spot and left. End of story." "Good for you," Nova said firmly. "You deserve someone who knows what he has." "Preferably someone with a bigger dick and a functioning moral compass," Alice suggested. "Can we please focus on work now?" I begged. "I have the social media analytics to finish before lunch." They reluctantly returned to their desks, but I caught them shooting me concerned glances throughout the morning. I buried myself in spreadsheets and engagement metrics, grateful for the distraction. The last thing I needed was to think about that night, including my unexpected encounter with Alexander Carter. The CEO of Carter Enterprises wasn't just my boss; he was a legend in the business world. Cold, calculating, brilliant. He'd taken his grandfather's company and transformed it into a multinational corporation in less than a decade. The tabloids occasionally linked him with models or actresses, but he was notoriously private. And I really, really didn't want him to connect the dots between the disheveled woman he'd rescued and Olivia Morgan, a junior marketing executive. At lunch, we headed to the company cafeteria on the 30th floor. I scanned the room instinctively, relaxing when I didn't spot any tall, dark-haired executives. "So," Vivian said as we settled at our usual table, "tell us more about Friday. You rushed out of here like your ass was on fire." I poked at my salad. "Not much to tell. I got to the party, couldn't find Ryan, went looking for him, and found him bent over Sophia's dresser, drilling her like he was looking for oil." Nova snorted water through her nose. "Jesus, Liv! Warning next time." "What did you say?" Alice asked, leaning forward. "I asked if they'd been 'careful' and reminded him that monogamy is apparently very limiting." I stabbed a cherry tomato. "Then I told him to go fuck himself. Or Sophia. Whichever." "Queen shit," Vivian raised her water bottle in a toast. "To Olivia, who doesn't take crap from cheating assholes." "To Olivia," the others echoed. "Anything else interesting happened?" Alice asked. "Did you key his car? Throw drinks? Create a scene?" I hesitated. "No, nothing like that. Emilia and I just left." I couldn't bring myself to mention Alexander. It felt too surreal, too private somehow. The next few days passed in a blur of work and ignored calls from Ryan. I threw myself into the upcoming presentation, staying late to perfect the slides and rehearse my talking points. If Alexander Carter was going to be there, everything needed to be flawless. Not that he'd recognize me. He probably rescued women from creeps all the time. Why would he remember one random encounter? Thursday morning, I arrived early to set up the conference room. Our presentation on the new social media campaign was scheduled for 10 AM, and my stomach had been in knots since I woke up. "Relax," Nova said, adjusting the projector. "Carter probably won't even show up. These executives always have 'emergencies' that pull them away." "And if he does show up, he'll be on his phone the whole time," Vivian added, straightening the chairs. Alice arrived with a tray of coffee. "Or he'll leave halfway through. That's what happened at the last sales presentation." Their attempts at reassurance weren't helping. I couldn't shake the image of Alexander recognizing me, his eyebrows rising in surprise as he connected the dots between professional Olivia Morgan and the emotional wreck he'd driven home. By 9:55, the room was filled with marketing staff and a few executives I recognized from other departments. I took my position near the front, reviewing my notes one last time. At exactly 10 AM, the room fell silent. I looked up to see Alexander Carter striding through the door, followed by two assistants. He was even more imposing in his natural habitat with a charcoal suit perfectly tailored to his broad shoulders, and his presence commanded attention effortlessly. He nodded to the room and took a seat in the back row. I quickly looked down at my notes, my heart hammering against my ribs. There are limited chapters to put here, click “learn more” to open App to continue reading (It will automatically jump to the book)👇👇👇 #Goodnovel #novel

She dropped out of high school, had a bad reputation, was jilted by her fiancé, and was laughed at by public. Yet the following day, she wed a billionaire, and was doted on by him who was arrogant and averse to women. ===== "Ow, that hurts..." As she felt something hard pierce her body, Marissa Nash momentarily felt dizzy from the agony. She had forgotten about the bunch of Dreamweed on the seat and had accidentally sat on it. Its long, sharp thorns had dug deep into her flesh. Then, noticing blood seeping from between her legs, she gasped in shock and exclaimed, "Oh no!" Dreamweed was known for its strong anesthetic properties, meaning she would likely be numb for the next six hours. Realizing this, she decided to close the shop and rest. Gritting her teeth against the pain, she removed the thorns and wanted to go put up the "Closed for Today" sign. But before she could stand, a tall, well-dressed man in a sharp suit entered the flower shop through the glass door. His imposing presence quickly dominated the space. His face was handsome and stern, his eyes a mix of disdain, hatred, and something fiercely destructive. Marissa slightly frowned; she did not recognize him and knew nothing of his intentions. But it was evident he wasn't here on a friendly visit! She had many enemies. Though she often used aliases and disguises on her missions, there was always the risk of being unmasked. There was also the possibility that a traitor emerged within the organization she belonged to. It wasn't uncommon for enemies to seek her out for revenge or abduct her. Feeling her strength fading away, she dared not act hastily. All she could do was try to remain calm on the surface. "Are you here to buy flowers, sir?" "Heh!" The man scoffed. Without a word, he scooped her up and carried her outside. Marissa instinctively tried to punch him, but her feeble punches felt more like gentle taps against his solid body. What awaited her outside left her stunned. Down the narrow, run-down Vintage Street, over a dozen luxurious black Rolls Royces were lined up impressively. Over a hundred stern-faced bodyguards in black surrounded her modest flower shop, making it seem like a fortress. Passersby had already scurried into nearby stores, driven by fear. It was as if a scene from a mafia movie had come to life, with the mafia boss making a dramatic public appearance. Despite Marissa's extensive experiences, she couldn't determine which powerful person in Blebert was targeting her. To cause such a spectacle in broad daylight was incredibly bold and insane! The man roughly shoved her into a car and then climbed in beside her, settling next to her. Once the door was shut, the car's interior was engulfed by his intense, chilling presence, making it hard to breathe. Marissa tried to remain composed and discreetly reached into her pocket for her phone to send out a distress signal. But just as her fingers grazed the device, the man beside her snatched it away. She glanced at his harsh, tense face. "Sir, could you at least tell me your name and why you're abducting me... Ugh!" Her plea was abruptly cut short as his hand clamped tightly around her throat. "I'm not interested in your antics! Say another word, and I'll end you right here!" To save her life, Marissa quickly shut her mouth. Powerless to fight back, she could only sit and wonder what would come next. However, what happened next left her completely astounded. The man brought her to the City Hall. Before she knew it, her name was listed next to his on the marriage certificate. Thrown back into the car, Marissa was in shock. She stared vacantly at the marriage certificate in her hand, finally seeing the man's name, Connor Daniels. In Blebert, only one Connor Daniels fit the profile of possessing such immense wealth and influence--the current head of the top family, also known as the wealthiest man in Blebert! The situation was both horrifying and bewildering. She had never encountered such an extremely prestigious and fearsome person. While she might have unwittingly offended him, an assassination attempt or revenge on her would make sense, but a forced marriage...? "Um, Mr. Daniels..." "shut up!" Marissa attempted to find out what was going on, but Connor cut her off before she could begin to ask questions. Then, he grabbed her left hand and slid a priceless diamond ring onto her finger. "Make my grandma happy as you did before. Don't provoke me again!" he ordered. Marissa was left speechless. She had never even met his grandmother, so how was she supposed to make her happy? "Mr. Daniels, there's clearly been a misunderstanding... Hmm..." She found herself once again gripped tightly by the throat. His demeanor was tense and grim. Each word he said seemed to echo from a place of deep darkness. "You went to great lengths to trick my grandma into forcing this marriage upon me. Yet, after I had agreed and our wedding invitations had been sent out, you vanished on the day we were to legalize our marriage? I'm not interested in why you chased me and then ran away, r do I mind the embarrassment and complications it caused. But my grandma was rushed to the hospital because of this, and we need to resolve it! With her health in a critical condition, you will return and act the part of the dutiful granddaughter-in-law. If you try any tricks, I'll make sure the entire Nash family pays dearly!" Marissa started to piece things together. He had abducted the wrong person! She resembled his actual runaway fiancee closely, leading to this mistake. She had planned to go back to her hometown Adagend tomorrow to marry her fiance, Derek Tucker. What was she supposed to do now? Chapter2 Buried Alongside Her Marissa was seething with anger for being mistaken for someone else. Her carefully laid plans had been completely ruined by Connor, and even if she were to regain her freedom in the future, she would be a divorced woman. This blind and rude bastard! She was consumed by the desire to tear Connor apart. Yet, at this moment, she was powerless to defend herself. His overbearing and aggressive presence forced her into submission once again. As the sun set, casting its last golden light, their car pulled into the opulent grounds of Daniels Manor. No sooner had Connor pulled her from the car than a distressed butler hurried over with urgent news. "Mr. Daniels, you must come quickly. Your grandma has collapsed again and they're trying to revive her. This is the third time she's fainted. The doctors say her heart is failing, and her condition is... very critical..." Connor's expression twisted into one of anger. Marissa instinctively recoiled, sensing the murderous intent emanating from him. Before she could react, he grabbed her by the throat and slammed her against the car door. His grip was that of a madman, his hand tightening around her neck to the point where she nearly passed out. "You better hope my grandmother gets through this! If she doesn't, I'll make sure you're buried alongside her!" With one last menacing squeeze, Connor let her go and stormed off towards the mansion. Gasping for air, Marissa clutched her bruised throat and coughed painfully. "Ugh... Ahem..." The sensation of being so close to death left her both terrified and seething with anger. This man was completely insane! He still hadn't realized that he had married the wrong woman. Given his current unstable and aggressive demeanor, if his grandmother passed away, she was certain she'd be buried alive alongside her! To ensure her survival until the truth came out, she knew she must try to save his grandmother. With that resolve, she gathered her strength and followed Connor into the mansion. Inside the bedroom, Arabella Daniels, an elderly lady with silver hair, was lying motionless on the bed. Medical personnel were desperately attempting to save her, but the monitors tracking her vitals indicated her blood pressure and heart rate were critically low. She was indeed on the brink of death. Connor stopped at the doorway, his face strained. Marissa, trailing behind him, held her breath. Suddenly, the heart monitor's rhythmic beeping stopped, replaced by a continuous flat tone. The medical team paused briefly before resuming their intense efforts to resuscitate Arabella. However, Arabella's heart remained unresponsive. The lead doctor finally said somberly, "Mrs. Daniels has passed away. Please accept our condolences." Connor was in denial. His eyes, already reddened, became wild with grief. "I don't accept this! Keep trying! Use whatever means necessary, regardless of the cost!" The doctor sighed and said, "Mr. Daniels, your grandma's heart has stopped. Further attempts are futile." Connor was on the verge of a breakdown. He had lost his parents at a young age, and it was his grandmother who had raised him. She was the closest family he had. "No, Grandma can't just go like this! She wanted to see me married and meet her great-grandchildren. She said only that would bring her peace!" The room fell eerily quiet, everyone too apprehensive to speak. Finally, Neil Daniels, Connor's brother, broke the silence with a scornful remark. "Enough, Connor. What's the point of saying all this now?" He was Connor's eldest brother, twenty-three years older than him. His words were sharply cutting. "Grandma died stressed out because of your runaway fiancee. Her death is your fault. You can't even handle a woman. How are we supposed to trust you with running the whole family? If you feel any remorse for Grandma, hand over the family leadership and shares, and step down from managing the family business!" Connor's lips tightened as he tried to contain his emotions. Neil had always been bitter that their grandmother had entrusted Connor with the shares and family leadership instead of him, her eldest grandchild. He never missed a chance to pin a blame on Connor. Usually, Connor didn't let Neil's accusations slide and always had a retort ready to keep his conniving brother in check. But today, Connor had no desire to argue. He was too overwhelmed by grief and wanted his grandmother to rest in peace. But Glenn Daniels, Connor's third elder brother, who used a wheelchair, couldn't stand it any longer. "Neil, Grandma chose Connor to be in charge. It's unseemly for you to try to take the family leadership and shares now!" "Glenn, since when do you have a say in this family?" Neil's wife, Lorna Daniels, jumped in sharply before Neil could respond, her voice laden with sarcasm. Despite her carefully applied makeup, her malicious nature was evident. "Connor doesn't have the integrity required for his position. It's only right that he hands over the family leadership and shares! And you, contributing nothing from that wheelchair, think you deserve a share too?" Lorna was known for her harsh words, and she hit exactly where it hurt. As expected, Glenn grimaced, gripping his knee, rendered speechless by the distress. Marissa observed the family drama silently from the sidelines, uninterested in their squabbles. While the others argued, she had been closely observing Arabella's condition. As the argument intensified, Marissa said calmly, "Mrs. Daniels can still be saved..." Chapter3 Who Dares Lay A Finger On My Woman The moment Marissa spoke, all attention shifted to her. Connor, deep in grief, seemed to only remember her presence now, turning his head sharply toward her, his eyes filled with a fierce anger. Marissa instinctively took a step back, feeling as if she was walking dangerously on the edge of a knife. "Isn't that the runaway bride who's from the Nash family?" "How dare she show her face here?" The crowd looked at her with evident disdain. Marissa felt like prey surrounded by a pack of wolves. Cautiously, she asked Connor, "May I see Mrs. Daniels? Perhaps I could be of some help." What?! Everyone was shocked. Lorna let out a sharp, mocking laugh and said, "Miss Nash, are you out of your mind? Everyone knows you never finished high school. When did you become a medical expert?" Marissa ignored the cutting remark. Her focus was solely on trying to save a life, and she pleaded with Connor, "Since the doctors have given up, what harm is there in letting me try? Things can't get much worse." The medical team was outraged. How could they let a notorious rich girl, declared a failure by her own family, overturn their death declaration? The Daniels family members were also seething with anger. This woman, who had disgraced them by fleeing the wedding, now had the audacity to step in upon Arabella's death. Everyone expected Connor to demand this lunatic be thrown out. Unexpectedly, the fierce anger in Connor's eyes faded. He continued to stare at Marissa's face, leaving the room in suspense about his thoughts. Neil, unable to contain his anger, slammed the table and said, "How can we let this ignorant girl meddle? Throw her out now!" The bodyguards, anticipating this command, started to approach Marissa to escort her away. "Who dares lay a finger on my woman?!" Suddenly, Connor's voice rang out, stopping everyone in their tracks. Everyone was stunned. Connor's commanding presence filled the room, leaving no room for defiance. Even the troublemakers, Neil and Lorna, were forced to remain silent. With a single command, Connor had taken control of the situation. He then took Marissa by the hand and led her to the bedside, simply saying, "Please." No one dared to question the decision of the head of the family. Marissa started to examine Arabella's body. Given that she had not fully regained her strength and had been roughly choked by Connor thrice, her hands shook noticeably, making her examination seem clumsy. This clumsiness was misinterpreted negatively by the onlookers. They assumed she knew nothing about medicine; she was merely seeking attention and was visibly nervous. There had always been many women trying to garner Connor's attention with dramatic gestures. But for Marissa to use Arabella as a part of her scheme was unprecedented. She had previously convinced Arabella to agree to her and Connor's marriage, showing some cunning. But now, with Arabella gone, did she really think she could revive the dead? Such a thought was pure insanity! Everyone watched Marissa intently. They were eager to see her make a fool of herself, expecting Connor to throw her out and the downfall of the Nash family alongside her. Marissa paid them no mind. After finishing her examination, she paused in thought for a moment before pulling out her acupuncture kit. Upon seeing the kit, the doctors scoffed, and the observers mocked her even more. They had anticipated some sophisticated medical intervention, but she resorted to acupuncture, which many regarded as mere folklore. Arabella's heart had stopped to function; not even surgery could save her, and Marissa thought a few needles would revive her? Connor must be out of his mind to allow her to treat Arabella. Arabella was so revered. How could Marissa be permitted to mess with her body? It was a disrespect to her! Yet, Connor did not intervene, so no one dared openly criticize her actions. Marissa sterilized the silver needles and started positioning them at strategic points on Arabella's body. Her increasing weakness caused her hands to tremble more visibly, and beads of sweat formed on her forehead. The spectators, noticing her shaky hands, were both anxious and terrified witnessing the positioning of her every needle. When the first needle was inserted, there was no change. The second needle followed, and still, no response. By the ninth needle, there was still no sign of any miracle. At that point, the onlookers could no longer restrain themselves. "Stop!" Neil shouted furiously. "You have some nerve, trying to deceive us! Do you think we're fools?" "Using Arabella's body for your scheme--you must be tired of living!" Everyone glared at Marissa, furious and ready to tear apart this woman who they believed disrespected Arabella. Even the usually gentle Glenn appeared unusually grim. "Connor, are you really going to let this woman continue with her antics?" But Connor did not stop Marissa. Instead, he yelled, "Everyone, be quiet!" Marissa breathed a sigh of relief. She had only one needle left. If Connor had succumbed to the crowd's influence and halted her, all her efforts would have been for nothing. Connor's authoritative presence shut down the opposing voices once more, but the room felt heavier with all that pent-up anger lurking beneath the surface. With the room's full attention on her, Marissa positioned the final, tenth needle. As she did, Arabella abruptly inhaled a breath of air. She was alive! Chapter4 They Had Abducted The Wrong Person Did a miracle just happen? Everyone in the room looked as if they had witnessed the impossible. No, it was as if they had seen God. The doctors, who had previously declared the patient beyond help, looked as though they wanted to bow down to Marissa in reverence! Connor was overjoyed. Only Marissa remained calm and concentrated, continuing to massage and press various points on Arabella's body. Ten minutes later, Arabella's blood pressure and heart rate stabilized. Although Arabella hadn't regained consciousness, her breathing was regular, and her skin color was returning to normal. The person declared dead was now in stable condition! "How... she...?" Lorna stuttered, pointing at Marissa, her words trailing off in disbelief. Everyone had labeled Miss Nash as dumb. When had she developed such extraordinary medical abilities? The esteemed doctors in the room felt both humiliated and ashamed. The lead doctor couldn't resist asking, "Miss Nash, from whom did you learn your medical skills?" "I picked it up from acupuncture books and just replicated what I read," Marissa answered, making up a simple explanation to avoid any complications, given everyone in the room was now thinking she was another woman. This response shattered the earlier sense of wonder in the room. Who would seriously attempt to treat someone as critical as Arabella with basic acupuncture techniques learned from books? This woman must be out of her mind. She had simply struck it incredibly lucky today! Ignoring the mixed reactions from the crowd, Marissa meticulously gathered her silver needles. Large beads of sweat trickled down her cheeks--she was completely exhausted. The effects of the Dreamweed had weakened her, and she hadn't rested at all. Instead, she endured rough handling by Connor that nearly crushed her. Suddenly, she felt a warm hand gently wipe the sweat from her cheek. Marissa turned her head, only to see it was Connor. His eyes conveyed a deep sense of gratitude, almost as if he was trying to soften her with his look. Feeling uneasy with such closeness, Marissa quickly stepped away. "Mr. Daniels, can we talk?" "You look exhausted. Rest now. We can talk later, once you've had some sleep," Connor suggested, his voice unexpectedly tender, mirroring the softness in his eyes. Realizing how exhausted she truly was, Marissa agreed to his suggestion. Before leaving, she asked, "Could I have my phone back, please?" Connor paused for a brief moment, then swiftly pulled her phone from his pocket and handed it to her. Marissa accepted her phone and followed the servant out. The night had deepened outside, the sky hinting at an impending rainstorm. Marissa was led to a guest room in an adjacent building and immediately checked her messages. Derek and she had planned to go back to their hometown the next day to get married. With her phone off for so long, he must have been incredibly worried. Sure enough, after three hours without her phone, it was bombarded with notifications. Over a hundred missed calls and dozens of texts greeted her, all from Derek. Marissa gave a wry smile and quickly texted Derek to reassure him that she would meet him at the train station as planned at noon the next day. The wedding date couldn't be changed. Before meeting Derek, she needed to divorce Connor. He had turned what was supposed to be her first marriage into her second, and she was determined to make him regret it. All she needed now was a good night's rest, and then she would set things right! With that resolve, she climbed into bed and quickly fell asleep. In a small conference room in the same building, tension filled the atmosphere. Domenic Wells, Connor's trusted assistant, stood before him, delivering his report with due respect. "Mr. Daniels, the young woman's name is Marissa Nash, 22 years old, originally from a small village in Adagend. She owns a small flower shop on Vintage Street. Her family's financial struggles forced her to drop out of school shortly after beginning high school to start working, contributing to family expenses. She left her village at fifteen, wandered through various towns, and settled in Blebert only last year. As a young woman on her own who earns a decent income, she's the subject of various nasty rumors back in her village. Essentially, her reputation isn't stellar." While saying this, Domenic had already prepared himself for any harsh punishment. The intended bride from the Nash family had fled from her marriage to Connor, and he, under orders, had searched the entire city, ending up at a small flower shop on Vintage Street. Regrettably, they had abducted the wrong person! The two women merely shared a resemblance and the same surname, Nash. This mistake had landed his boss in a significant predicament. Though the actual bride, whom Arabella had approved of, was despised by Connor, she had a suitable social standing. But now, the new "Mrs. Daniels" was nothing more than a high school dropout with a questionable background from a tiny village! This was a blow to his boss' dignity! If this village girl attempted to blackmail them or refuse to let go of Connor, he feared that even sacrificing his life would not be enough to atone for this mistake. "Mr. Daniels, I have failed in my responsibilities and am prepared to face whatever punishment you deem necessary!" The room was so quiet that one could hear a pin drop. Connor remained silent for a long time, repeatedly examining the brand-new marriage certificate. Then, suddenly, he got up and moved towards the floor-to-ceiling window, staring out at the clouded sky. He opened his mouth, seemingly about to say something. Chapter5 Legally Dividing Community Property "The weather is nice," Connor said out of the blue. Domenic stood frozen, while Marc Bailey and Terry Bailey, the two captains of the bodyguard team, looked terrified. Connor was known for being unpredictable. A dark expression on his face didn't always signify anger, whereas a smile might be the calm before the storm. Without a second thought, Domenic, Marc, and Terry all knelt with a heavy thud. At that moment, lightning flashed across the window, followed by a booming thunderclap that rattled the entire building. The rain began to fall in torrents. Suddenly, Connor turned around and said softly, "Send someone upstairs to check the situation." Upon hearing this, the two bodyguard captains remained motionless, and Domenic, the well-educated special assistant, seemed completely lost. Cade Garza, the seasoned old butler who had a deep understanding of human nature, took charge. He promptly summoned a maid and instructed, "Quickly go upstairs and see if our esteemed guest was startled by the thunder. If she's awake, let us know immediately. Also, prepare a lavish meal in the kitchen and be ready to serve her at any moment!" After a brief pause, Cade personally retrieved some swelling-reducing ointment and passed it to the maid. Once these orders were given, Cade looked to Connor and asked, "Mr. Daniels, do you find these arrangements enough?" Connor nodded. After the thunderstorm, Marissa woke up. Though she hadn't slept long, she felt her energy had returned. During previous missions, she often had to make do with minimal sleep. Her body had adapted, trained to recover energy swiftly from brief rests. Noticing a cooling sensation around her neck, carrying a faint medicinal scent, she sniffed gently and recognized it as some ointment. As she opened her eyes, she saw several maids standing by her bed with respect. The head maid approached with a warm smile and said, "Mrs. Daniels, you are awake." "Please, call me Miss Nash." Marissa corrected her politely as she sat up. The maids exchanged puzzled glances. Miss Nash had previously preferred the title Mrs. Daniels. What had changed her mind today? Then the head maid said, "Mr. Connor Daniels is waiting for you downstairs. Dinner is ready. Would you like to come down for a meal?" Marissa, feeling quite hungry, freshened up and headed downstairs. There, Connor was seated at the dining table, absorbed in a newspaper. He seemed more controlled andcomposed now, presenting himself as nothing more than a charming gentleman, easy on the eyes. Yet, Marissa shot him a disdainful glance and silently started to eat. She only raised her head after satisfying her hunger. "Mr. Daniels, I believe you understand now that you've made a big mistake. Even though I come from a humble background, you've wronged me, and it's only right that you make amends, correct?" Connor looked at the woman before him and gave a slight nod. "Yes, I apologize." "So, Mr. Daniels, would you prefer to resolve this legally, or can we settle it privately?" "Let's handle it privately," Connor responded. He then offered a slight smile. "Miss Nash, please, specify your terms." Perfect! Marissa quickly requested paper and a pen, and set about drafting an agreement... Silence enveloped the dining room, broken only by the scratching of Marissa's pen against the paper. Connor was intrigued to see what terms she would propose and learn more about the kind of person she truly was. She was dressed casually in a blue checkered shirt, overalls, and Martin boots, her hair tied in a loose braid, without a trace of makeup. Her outfit was typical for someone who ran a flower shop, yet it rendered her quite striking. She looked exceptionally pure and vibrant, standing out like a beacon among the crowd. His eyes lingered on her, starting from her jet-black hair and moving slowly downward. He studied her expressive eyes, the shape of her nose, her rosy lips, and her flawless skin. When his gaze landed on the red marks around her neck, a pang of guilt hit him hard. As he remembered how he had treated her harshly, remorse washed over him. Just then, Marissa set down her pen and looked up, meeting his probing gaze. Startled and feeling guilty, Connor quickly looked away. Marissa passed the paper to him, her demeanor composed. There were two agreements in total. Connor took them and began to review them carefully. The first agreement was primarily about the compensation. The initial clause demanded five thousand for physical injuries. "Mr. Daniels, you physically assaulted me three times, resulting in neck injuries. I'm requesting five thousand in compensation. That seems fair, doesn't it?" Marissa interjected just in time. "Very fair," Connor said, continuing to read. The next clause asked for one hundred thousand for emotional distress. "Mr. Daniels, your actions have caused me significant emotional suffering. One hundred thousand in compensation isn't unreasonable, right?" Marissa added. "Very reasonable." Connor agreed once more, his tone still gentle. He moved on to the following clause. The third clause concerned medical fees, totaling ten million. Connor was momentarily at a loss for words. He lifted his head and looked at Marissa from head to toe, his eyes nearly widening in bewilderment, yet he still couldn't quite understand her. Marissa offered a slight smile. "Mr. Daniels, although my medical intervention was somewhat fortuitous, the fact remains that I revived your grandmother. The value of Mrs. Daniels's life is immeasurable. Surely, ten million for medical expenses isn't too much?" Slightly amused, Connor smiled faintly. "Very reasonable." He immediately signed the agreement after speaking. He then wrote a check for 10, 150, 000 dollars and handed it over to Marissa. She accepted it without hesitation and tucked it into her pocket. Connor then proceeded to the second document. It was a divorce agreement. The content was straightforward--legally dividing their community property. Upon seeing the phrase "community property," Connor couldn't help but chuckle. He looked at her intently for a few moments before softly inquiring, "Miss Nash, are you interested in getting more money out of this?" ...... ==== Marissa Nash, who is going to marry her fiancé tomorrow, is mistaken by the billionaire Connor Daniels as his runaway bride, and is kidnapped to get the marriage certificate and taken home. After being brought home, she accidentally revived his grandmother who had been declared dead with ten needles! Connor later found out that he kidnapped the wrong person, but he became interested in this mysterious girl. Can Marissa successfully divorce and marry her fiancé? What happens next? Available chapters here are limited, click the button below to install the App and enjoy more exciting chapters (Automatically jump to this novel when you open the app) &5&

Chapter 1 Olivia's POV I slumped against the passenger seat as Ryan's car cruised through the palm-lined streets of Los Angeles. My eyelids felt heavy after a twelve-hour shift at Carter Enterprises. The quarterly marketing campaign required us all to work overtime, and as a junior marketing executive, I was stuck with weekend work. "You still with me, babe?" Ryan glanced over, his perfectly styled dark hair catching the sunset's glow. "Barely." I stifled a yawn. "Remind me why we're going to this party when I could be face-planting into my pillow right now?" "Because Sophia would kill you if you missed her birthday." He reached over and squeezed my knee. "And because you look stunning in that dress I bought for you." I glanced down at the black cocktail dress he'd insisted I wear. The neckline plunged lower than I'd normally choose, and the hemline rode high enough to make me self-conscious every time I sat down. Ryan had shown up at my apartment with the dress in a boutique bag, eyes gleaming with anticipation as I'd tried it on. "I still think it's a bit much for a birthday party," I tugged at the fabric, trying to cover more of my chest. "Liv, we've been dating for two years. I know what looks good on you better than you do. Trust me, every guy at this party will wish he was me tonight." "Is that what this is about? Marking your territory?" "Can you blame me?" He winked as he turned onto Sophia's street, where luxury cars lined both sides. Sophia's recently purchased triplex stood illuminated against the darkening sky, music pulsing from within. For someone only turning twenty-five, she'd done remarkably well for herself in real estate development. Ryan found a spot half a block away and cut the engine. "Ready to make an entrance, Ms. Morgan?" "As I'll ever be." I grabbed my purse and the gift bag containing the vintage champagne Ryan had suggested we bring. The cool evening air hit my bare shoulders as I stepped out of the car, making me shiver. Ryan's arm slid around my waist, his hand resting dangerously low on my hip. "See? Worth getting dressed up for." He nodded toward the house. "This place is insane." We walked up the curved driveway where twinkling lights had been strung through the palm trees. The front door stood open, spilling light, music, and laughter onto the porch. "Olivia! You made it!" Sophia appeared in the doorway, resplendent in a gold sequined dress. "I was starting to think you'd stood me up!" "My work tried its best to keep me away," I laughed, accepting her enthusiastic hug. "Happy birthday, Soph." "And Ryan, looking delicious as always." She air-kissed his cheeks. "Come in, come in! Everyone's already two drinks ahead of you." Ryan's hand pressed against the small of my back as we entered the foyer, which opened to a massive great room where at least thirty people mingled. The space featured floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the twinkling Los Angeles skyline. "Drink?" Ryan asked, already scanning the room. "God, yes. The strongest thing they've got." He chuckled. "That's my girl. Be right back." As Ryan disappeared toward the bar setup, I heard a familiar squeal from across the room. "Olivia Morgan, get your ass over here!" I turned to see Emilia waving frantically from a plush sectional sofa. My best friend since college was already flushed from alcohol, her blonde hair falling in waves around her shoulders. "Em!" I navigated through clusters of guests to reach her. "How long have you been here?" "Long enough to know the bartender's life story." She stood, wobbling slightly in her heels, and embraced me. She pulled back, holding me at arm's length to examine my outfit. "Holy shit, your boobs look amazing in that dress. Did Ryan pick it out?" I felt my cheeks warm. "Is it that obvious?" "Only because I've known you for eight years, and you've never willingly shown that much cleavage." She smirked. "Not that I'm complaining. If I had your rack, I'd show it off, too." "Could you say that a little louder? I don't think everyone in Malibu heard you." "Sorry, can't help it. You're too easy to embarrass." Emilia's eyes danced with mischief as she took another sip of her drink. "By the way, have you seen our birthday girl? I swear she was here greeting people and then just... vanished." I scanned the crowded room. "No, actually. Where did Ryan go? He was supposed to be getting me a drink." "Maybe he's outside? I saw some people heading to the back lawn earlier." Emilia shrugged. "Or he could be sneaking a cigarette." I narrowed my eyes. "He told me he quit three months ago. If I catch him smoking after all that 'I'm done with nicotine forever, baby' bullshit, I'll kill him myself." "Men lie about the stupidest things. Like, just admit you still smoke and save us both the drama." "I'm going to find him," I said, tugging at my dress, which had ridden up dangerously high. "If he's outside with a cigarette, I'm putting it on his favorite shoes." "That's my girl." Emilia raised her glass. "I'll be right here judging everyone's outfit choices when you get back." I weaved through the crowded living room, nodding at half-familiar faces from past gatherings. The kitchen was jammed with people mixing drinks. No Ryan. The back patio held a group playing some drinking games with shots and ping pong balls. No Ryan among them. "Looking for someone?" A tall guy with a man-bun approached, his eyes dropping to my cleavage before meeting my gaze. "My boyfriend. Tall, dark hair, probably looking smug about something." He laughed. "Haven't seen him. But I'd be happy to keep you company until he shows up." "Hard pass, but thanks." I turned away, irritation building. Where the hell was Ryan with my drink? I climbed the modern floating staircase to the next floor, where the noise from the party became more muffled. The hallway was dimly lit and had several closed doors. A sound caught my attention – a moan? A laugh? Something between the two. It was faint, coming from further down the hall. The sound came again, more distinct this time. Definitely a moan. Great. A couple had found a private spot to hook up at Sophia's party. How classy. I was about to turn back when I noticed a slightly ajar door at the end of the hallway, a sliver of light spilling onto the hardwood floor. Something compelled me forward – curiosity, or perhaps a sixth sense I didn't know I had. As I approached, the sounds became clearer. A woman's voice, breathless and urgent: "Fuck, yes, right there." I froze. The voice was familiar. A male voice responded, low and commanding: "You like that, don't you? Tell me how much you want it." My stomach dropped. Ryan's voice. I should have turned away, run down those stairs, and straight out the front door. Instead, I moved closer, pushing the door open wider. The scene burned into my retinas like a brand. Sophia bent over her dresser; her gold dress pushed up around her waist. Ryan was behind her, his pants around his ankles, hands gripping her hips as he thrust into her. "Harder," Sophia gasped. "Make me feel it tomorrow." "What the fuck?" The words escaped me before I could stop them. They both froze. Ryan's head whipped around, his eyes widening with shock. Chapter 2 Olivia's POV Ryan's head whipped around, his eyes widening with shock. For a moment, time suspended itself. My lungs refused to work, and the room seemed to tilt sideways. "Liv—" Ryan stammered, still connected to Sophia. "This isn't—" "What it looks like?" I finished, my voice surprisingly steady despite the earthquake happening inside me. "Because it looks like you're fucking my friend on her birthday while I wait downstairs for a drink that's never coming." Sophia turned her head, meeting my gaze without a hint of shame. She didn't even bother to adjust her dress; she just rested her elbows on the dresser and sighed like I'd interrupted a business meeting. "Oh, Olivia," she said, her voice dripping with condescension. "Did you think a man like Ryan would be satisfied with just you?" Ryan finally pulled away from her, fumbling to pull up his pants. "Baby, please, this is just a... a thing. It doesn't mean anything." "A thing?" I repeated, heat rising to my face. "How long has this 'thing' been happening?" Before either could answer, I heard footsteps behind me. "Liv? Did you find—" Emilia's voice cut off as she appeared at my side, taking in the scene. "Holy fucking shit." Ryan's face paled further. "This isn't what—" "If you say 'this isn't what it looks like' one more time, I swear to God I will castrate you with my bare hands," Emilia snapped, her arm wrapping protectively around my shoulders. Sophia straightened up, finally adjusting her dress with leisurely movements. She tossed her hair back and had the audacity to smirk. "Ryan and I have an understanding. It's just sex. Great sex, but still just sex." "An understanding?" I laughed, the sound brittle and foreign to my ears. "And when exactly were you planning to include me in this understanding? After you gave me chlamydia, or before?" "Don't be dramatic," Ryan said, tucking in his shirt. "We've been careful." "Oh, careful! Well, that makes it all better then!" I threw my hands up. "You've been carefully fucking my friend behind my back. Such consideration!" Sophia leaned against the dresser, crossing her arms. "We're all adults here. Monogamy is so... limiting, don't you think?" Emilia stepped forward. "The only thing limiting around here is your moral compass, you backstabbing bitch." "Watch it," Sophia warned, her eyes narrowing. "Or what? You'll sleep with my boyfriend too? Get in line." Emilia turned to Ryan. "And you. You pathetic excuse for a man. Two years? Two fucking years of her life wasted on you?" Ryan finally managed to buckle his belt. "Liv, baby, please. We can talk about this. It's just physical. It doesn't change how I feel about you." "You feel so much for me that you bought me this dress." I gestured to my outfit. "So, I could be downstairs putting on a show for your friends while you're up here with your dick in Sophia?" "The dress looks amazing on you," he offered weakly. I stared at him in disbelief. "That's what you're going with right now? Fashion compliments?" "I'm just saying—" "No, I'm done listening to what you're 'just saying.'" I turned to leave, then spun back. "Two years, Ryan. Two years of me rearranging my schedule for you and believing every word out of your mouth. Was any of it real?" He took a step toward me. "Of course, it was real. I love you, Liv." "Spare me," I spat. "If this is your version of love, I want nothing to do with it." Sophia sighed dramatically. "Can we wrap this up? I have guests downstairs." "You have one less now," I said, turning away. "Enjoy your birthday present. You two deserve each other." Emilia shot them both a final glare before following me out. We marched down the hallway, my legs somehow carrying me forward despite feeling like they might collapse. "I've got you," Emilia whispered, her arm still around me as we descended the stairs. The party continued below us, oblivious to the implosion that had just occurred upstairs. The music seemed too loud now, the laughter too jarring. We pushed through the crowd toward the front door. Someone called my name, but I kept moving, my eyes fixed on the exit. The cool night air hit my face as we stepped outside, and only then did I realize I was shaking. We made it to the sidewalk when I heard the front door open behind us. I refused to look back. "Olivia!" Ryan called out. "Wait!" Emilia turned, positioning herself between us like a shield. "Go back to your birthday girl, asshole." "This is between me and Liv," he insisted but made no move to follow us. "There is no 'me and Liv' anymore," I called back, still walking. "We're done." His response was lost as we rounded the corner, the sounds of the party fading behind us. Once out of sight, my composure crumbled. I stopped walking, my breath coming in gasps. "I can't believe…I can't…" I pressed my hand to my mouth. "I know, honey. I know." Emilia pulled me into a hug. "Let it out." "Two years," I whispered against her shoulder. "Two fucking years." She stroked my hair. "I'm so sorry, Liv." I pulled back, wiping angrily at my eyes. "Did you know? About them?" Emilia hesitated. "Not for sure. But I had my suspicions." "What? Why didn't you say anything?" She sighed, fishing her phone from her purse. "I saw them at Barton's Café last month. They said they'd run into each other, but it seemed... off. The way they were sitting, the way he touched her arm. I didn't want to say anything without proof. I didn't want to hurt you if I was wrong." "Well, now we have proof," I said bitterly. "Let me call us a cab," Emilia said, tapping her phone. "My car's not here. Jake dropped me off." I hugged myself against the chill, suddenly aware of how exposed I felt in the dress Ryan had chosen. "No cabs available. Let's walk a bit. I'll keep trying for a ride and call Jake. Maybe he can pick us up." "Fine by me." I just wanted to get as far away from Sophia's house as possible. "I'd walk to Mexico now if it meant never seeing Ryan again." We started down the sidewalk, my heels clicking against the concrete. The neighborhood was upscale, with sprawling houses set back from the road, but the street itself was poorly lit. The rumble of an engine cut her off as a convertible slowed beside us. Four guys crowded inside, the stench of alcohol wafting our way. The driver leaned over, his eyes crawling over my body before settling on my chest. "Hey, babes, want a ride?" He grinned, revealing a gold tooth. "We got plenty of room on our laps." His friends burst into laughter. The one in the passenger seat raised a bottle. "We're celebrating! Don't you wanna celebrate with us?" "Fuck off," Emilia snapped, pulling me closer. "Ooh, feisty!" The driver killed the engine. "I like feisty." One guy, thick-necked with a tribal tattoo, vaulted over the door. He staggered toward us, pointing at Emilia. "You got a mouth on you, blondie. Let's see what else it can do." Before I could react, he lunged forward and grabbed Emilia by her hair, yanking her head back. She screamed, clawing at his arm. "Let her go!" I shouted, my marketing executive persona vanishing as pure rage took over. I swung my purse, connecting with his temple. He stumbled but kept his grip on Emilia's hair. "Your friend wants to play rough, huh?" He leered at me, eyes fixed on my chest. "Nice tits. Bet they bounce real good." Chapter 3 Olivia's POV My fist throbbed from connecting with the guy's head, but it hadn't done enough. Emilia whimpered as he yanked her hair harder, forcing her head back at an unnatural angle. "Let her go, you piece of shit!" I hissed, fear and fury colliding in my chest. "Or what?" He laughed, his breath reeking of whiskey. "You gonna hit me with your little purse again?" The other men from the car were climbing out now, their movements predatory as they circled around us. The driver, with his gold tooth catching the dim streetlight, stepped toward me. "C'mon baby, we just wanna have some fun." His eyes never left my chest. "You're dressed like you want attention. We're just giving you what you want." "I want you to let my friend go and fuck off back to whatever sewer you crawled out of," I spat, backing away until I felt a tree behind me. "Ooh, she's got a mouth on her too," said another shorter but broad-shouldered guy wearing a baseball cap. "I like that. Makes it more fun when they fight a little." The driver reached for me, his fingers grazing my arm. I slapped his hand away. "Don't touch me!" "Playing hard to get?" He moved closer, pinning me against the tree. "That's cute." Emilia was still struggling against Tribal Tattoo's grip. "Liv, run! Just run!" "I'm not leaving you," I said, looking desperately around for anything I could use as a weapon. The driver pressed his body against mine; one hand braced on the tree beside my head. "Your friend's not going anywhere, and neither are you." His other hand reached for my breast. "Let's see if these feel as good as they look." I brought my knee up hard, aiming for his groin, but he twisted away at the last second. My knee glanced off his thigh. "Feisty bitch!" He grabbed my wrist, squeezing until I gasped in pain. Headlights suddenly illuminated the scene as another car screeched to a halt beside us. The engine cut off, and the driver's door opened. "Is there a problem here?" A deep voice cut through the night. A tall figure emerged from the shadows into the spill of a distant streetlight. Broad-shouldered and imposing in what looked like an expensive suit, he moved with a quiet confidence that commanded attention. "Mind your own business, man," Gold Tooth snarled, but I noticed he'd loosened his grip on my wrist. The newcomer stepped closer, and I caught my breath. Even in the dim light, I recognized him immediately. Alexander Carter. My boss's boss's boss. The CEO of Carter Enterprises, where I'd been working as a junior marketing executive for the past eight months. "I believe these ladies were telling you to leave them alone," he said, his voice calm but edged with steel. "I suggest you listen." Gold Tooth sneered. "What are you gonna do about it? There's four of us and one of you." Alexander didn't even blink. "True. But I've already called the police, and they're on their way. I'm sure they'd be interested to know about four drunk men assaulting two women on a public street." Tribal Tattoo finally released Emilia's hair, shoving her forward. "Whatever, man. These bitches ain't worth the trouble." Emilia stumbled toward me, and I caught her, pulling her close. "You okay?" I whispered. She nodded, rubbing her scalp. "Bastard nearly ripped my hair out." Gold Tooth took a step toward Carter, puffing out his chest. "You think you're some kind of hero? Rich boy in his fancy car?" Alexander simply stared him down, not moving an inch. "I think I'm someone who doesn't want to see two women harassed by drunken idiots. Now, you can leave on your own, or you can wait for the police. Your choice." For a tense moment, I thought Gold Tooth might throw a punch. Instead, he spat on the ground near Alexander's polished shoes. "Let's go," he muttered to his friends. "These sluts aren't worth jail time." They piled back into their convertible, engine roaring to life. Gold Tooth revved it aggressively before peeling away, tires screeching. Alexander turned to us. "Are you both all right?" Up close, he was even more intimidating than he was at company events. Tall, with sharp features and piercing gray eyes, he had the kind of face that belonged in business magazines, where it often appeared. Despite the late hour, his dark hair was neatly styled, not a strand out of place. "We're okay," I managed, suddenly conscious of my appearance: disheveled hair, makeup probably smeared from crying earlier, and this ridiculous dress that now felt like a terrible mistake. "Thank you for stopping." "Do you need a ride somewhere?" he asked, his eyes briefly dropping to my chest before snapping back to my face. "Our cab canceled," Emilia said, still rubbing her scalp. "And my boyfriend's not answering his phone." Alexander gestured to his car, a sleek black car. "I'm happy to drive you both home." I hesitated. This was Alexander Carter, the man who signed my paychecks and whose name was on the building where I worked. The man was known for his ruthless business tactics and cold demeanor. The last thing I needed was for him to realize I was one of his employees, especially looking like this. "That's very kind," I said carefully, "but we don't want to impose." "It's no imposition," he replied. "I'd rather not leave you out here after what just happened." Emilia looked at me with raised eyebrows, silently communicating: "Are you crazy? Free ride in a sleek car with a hot, rich guy? Say yes!" "If you're sure it's not too much trouble," I relented. "Not at all." He opened the backseat door. "Please." The car's interior was all black leather and gleaming surfaces. It smelled of expensive cologne and a new car, a heady combination that made my head spin—or maybe that was the adrenaline crash. "I'm Alexander Carter," he said as he slid behind the wheel. "Olivia," I replied, deliberately omitting my last name. "And this is Emilia." "Pleasure to meet you both, despite the circumstances." He started the engine, which purred to life. "Where am I taking you?" Emilia gave him her address first, and then I gave him mine. "Rough night?" he asked as we pulled away from the curb. Emilia snorted. "You could say that. We were at a birthday party where Liv caught her boyfriend banging the birthday girl." "Emilia!" I hissed, mortified. Alexander's eyes flicked to me in the rearview mirror. "I see. I'm sorry to hear that." "It's fine," I mumbled, wishing I could disappear into the leather seat. "It's not fine," Emilia insisted. "Ryan is a cheating scumbag who deserves to have his dick fall off." A small smile tugged at the corner of Alexander's mouth. "I take it Ryan is the ex-boyfriend?" "As of about a few minutes ago, yes," I confirmed, wondering why I was discussing my love life with my CEO. "Well, for what it's worth," he said, his eyes meeting mine briefly in the mirror again, "he sounds like an idiot." Chapter 4 Olivia's POV The car fell silent as we drove through the streets of Los Angeles, the city lights blurring past the windows. I studied Alexander's profile, the strong jaw, and straight nose, wondering why he'd stopped to help us. Everything I'd heard about him at work painted him as cold, distant, focused only on the bottom line. We reached Emilia's apartment building first. Alexander pulled up to the curb, the engine purring quietly as he shifted into park. "This is me," Emilia announced, gathering her purse. She leaned over to hug me, using the moment to whisper in my ear. "Holy fuck, Liv. He's hot as balls. If he wants to bang you senseless tonight, you better fucking do it. The best way to get over Ryan is to get under the CEO. Shit, those hands look like they know what they're doing." I pulled back, shooting her a death glare that could have melted steel. "What?" she mouthed innocently before turning to Alexander. "Thanks for the ride, knight in shining Armani. You're a lifesaver." "It was no trouble," he replied politely. Emilia opened the door, then paused to give me one last meaningful look. "Call me tomorrow with ALL the details." She waggled her eyebrows suggestively. "Goodbye, Emilia," I said firmly, my cheeks burning. She blew me a kiss and slammed the door, sauntering toward her building with a little extra sway in her hips, no doubt for Alexander's benefit. As we pulled away, I sank deeper into the leather seat, mortified. "I'm so sorry about her. She has no filter." Alexander's eyes met mine in the rearview mirror. "No need to apologize. She seems like a good friend." "The best," I admitted. "Even if she occasionally makes me want to strangle her." His lips quirked upward, almost a smile but not quite. "Those are often the best kinds of friends." We lapsed into silence as he navigated through the streets of Los Angeles. The city lights streamed past the windows, creating a kaleidoscope effect that matched my swirling thoughts. I caught Alexander glancing at me in the mirror a few times, his expression unreadable. "Left at the next light," I directed as we approached my neighborhood. He nodded, making the turn smoothly. "Here we are," he announced, pulling up to my apartment building. It wasn't fancy by LA standards but clean and in a decent area. I could just barely afford it on my junior executive salary. He turned off the engine and, to my surprise, got out to open my door. His hand extended to help me out, warm and solid as I took it. The contact sent an unexpected jolt up my arm. "Thank you again," I said, reluctantly letting go of his hand. "For everything tonight." Alexander studied me for a moment, his gray eyes intense. "I hope you're able to move past what happened tonight. Your boyfriend, or rather your ex-boyfriend, clearly didn't appreciate what he had." The unexpected kindness in his voice made my throat tighten. "I'll be fine," I managed. "I'm sure you will," he agreed. "Someone like you won't stay single for long unless you want to." I wasn't sure how to respond to that. Was Alexander Carter, CEO of Carter Enterprises, flirting with me? No, that was ridiculous. He was just being polite. "Goodnight, Olivia," he said, stepping back toward his car. "Goodnight, Alexander. And thank you for the ride." He nodded once, then slid back into his car. I watched as he drove away, his taillights disappearing around the corner before I turned and entered my building. The elevator ride to my fourth-floor apartment felt endless. My keys jangled in my shaking hands as I unlocked my door, stepping into the darkness of my living room. I flipped on the light, tossed my purse on the counter, and kicked off my heels. The silence of my apartment pressed in around me. Just hours ago, I'd been getting ready for what I thought would be a normal night out with my boyfriend. Now, everything had changed. I peeled off the black cocktail dress and threw it in the trash. Never again would I wear something just because a man told me it looked good on me. In my bathroom, I scrubbed off my makeup. The woman in the mirror looked tired, her eyes red-rimmed but clear. I pulled on an oversized t-shirt and fell onto my bed, staring at the ceiling. My phone buzzed on the nightstand, probably Ryan finally realizing what he'd lost. I ignored it. Why had he done it? Two years together, and he throws it all away for Sophia? Had he been sleeping with her all along? The signs had been there: the late nights at work, the sudden business trips, the way his phone was always face-down when I was around. I'd trusted him completely. What a fool I'd been. My phone buzzed again. This time, I glanced at it. Emilia. "You home safe? Did Mr. CEO make a move? Please say yes." I texted back: "Yes, I'm home. No, he didn't. Go to sleep." Her response was immediate: "Boring! But seriously, you okay?" "I will be," I replied and realized I meant it. I tossed my phone onto the nightstand and stared at the ceiling, my mind racing despite my exhaustion. Sleep seemed impossible. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Ryan thrusting into Sophia, her smug face, his pathetic excuses. "Fuck," I whispered to the empty room. "Two years down the drain." I rolled over, burying my face in my pillow. Two years of holidays, family gatherings, inside jokes—all tainted now. But something else kept intruding on my thoughts: Alexander Carter's piercing gray eyes in the rearview mirror. Alexander Carter. My CEO. The man I'd just met while looking like a complete disaster. "He probably won't even remember me tomorrow," I muttered, flipping onto my back again. "Why would he? He's Alexander fucking Carter." The ceiling offered no answers. I'd worked at Carter Enterprises for eight months and never once spoken to him. I'd seen him striding through the lobby, standing at podiums during company-wide meetings, his face on the company website and annual reports. Always distant. Always untouchable. And now he'd seen me at my absolute worst, heartbroken in a slutty dress. "Great first impression, Olivia. Really professional." I snorted at my own sarcasm. It was as if Alexander Carter would ever connect the disheveled woman he'd rescued with Olivia Morgan, a junior marketing executive. Our worlds didn't intersect. He inhabited the executive floor with its panoramic views of Los Angeles. At the same time, I worked in my cubicle fifteen floors below, crafting social media campaigns for products I could barely afford. I pulled the covers over my head, trying to force sleep to come. But my brain had other ideas, conjuring an image of running into Alexander in the office elevator. Would he recognize me? Would I have the courage to thank him again? Would he look at me with those intense gray eyes and see past the professional facade to the woman he'd rescued? "As if," I mumbled into my pillow. "He probably rescues women from creeps every weekend. It's probably a rich guy's hobby." But what if he did remember me? What if our paths crossed in the office cafeteria or during a presentation? What would I say? Chapter 5 Alexander's POV I parked my car in the circular driveway of my parent's estate, taking a moment to prepare myself for the inevitable Carter family dynamics. Sunday dinner at the Carter mansion, a tradition as old as the oak trees lining the property, was something I both dreaded and looked forward to. The mansion stood like a monument to old money, with stone façades and manicured gardens that screamed, "We've had wealth for generations." My phone buzzed with an email from work, but I ignored it. Work could wait, but family obligations couldn't, especially when Grandfather Harold was involved. I straightened my tie and headed inside, where Martha, our longtime housekeeper, greeted me with a warm smile. "Mr. Alexander, everyone's waiting in the drawing room. Your grandfather arrived early." That was never a good sign. Grandfather arriving early meant he had an agenda. "Is Victoria here?" I asked, handing Martha my coat. "Yes, sir. With her husband. They arrived about an hour ago." Perfect. My cousin Victoria and her investment banker husband Thomas, the power couple who never let anyone forget how perfect their life was. The drawing room buzzed with conversation that stopped when I entered. Mother rose from her seat, elegant as always in her pearl necklace and tailored dress. "Alexander, darling. We were beginning to worry." I kissed her cheek. "Traffic was terrible. Sorry, I'm late." Father nodded from his armchair, whiskey in hand. "Son." That was Father, a man of few words unless discussing business or golf. Victoria sat perched on the antique sofa, her husband's arm draped around her shoulder in that possessive way I found irritating. My sister Valentina was there, too, scrolling through her phone. But it was Grandfather Harold who commanded the room from his wheelchair. At seventy-eight, he might have lost some mobility but none of his mental sharpness or business acumen. "Alexander," he barked. "Sit down. We need to talk." I took a seat across from him. "Good to see you too, Grandfather." "Don't get smart with me, boy. I've been waiting." Victoria smirked. "Some of us manage to arrive on time, cousin dear." I ignored her. "What's this about? I thought this was just dinner." Grandfather Harold waved his hand dismissively. "Dinner can wait. This is about the future of Carter Enterprises." The room fell silent. When Grandfather talked about the company's future, everyone paid attention. He'd built Carter Enterprises from a small family business into a corporate empire and, at seventy-eight, still held the controlling stake. "I've been updating my will," he announced. Mother gasped softly. Father set down his whiskey. "Oh, relax; I'm not dying yet," Grandfather snapped. "Just getting my affairs in order. And I've made some decisions about the company shares." I leaned forward. As CEO, I had a significant stake in the company, but Grandfather's controlling shares would eventually determine who truly ran Carter Enterprises. "Alexander," he fixed his steely gaze on me. "You've done well as CEO. Profits are up. The board is happy. But there's something missing." "Missing?" I frowned. "Our last quarter was our best in five years." "I'm not talking about business." He thumped his cane on the floor. "I'm talking about family. Stability. A legacy." Victoria's husband coughed discreetly. Victoria's smile widened. "What exactly are you saying, Grandfather?" Harold Carter leaned forward in his wheelchair. "I'm saying that to inherit my controlling shares in Carter Enterprises, you need to be married within six months." The room exploded in reactions. Mother gasped again. Father actually put down his drink. Valentina looked up from her phone. Victoria burst into delighted laughter. "Married?" I stared at him. "You can't be serious." "Dead serious." Grandfather's expression didn't change. "Carter Enterprises has always been family-run. Family means stability. Commitment." "I'm committed to the company!" "But not to anything or anyone else." Grandfather shook his head. "You're thirty-three, Alexander. Your relationships last shorter than some of our quarterly reports." Victoria couldn't contain herself. "Oh, this is priceless. Is Alexander getting married? He can't even keep a girlfriend past the three-month mark." "Thank you for that astute observation, Victoria," I said, forcing a smile. "Always a pleasure to have your support." Uncle Richard, Victoria's father, chuckled from the corner of the room. "The boy does have a track record." "A track record?" My father set his tumbler down with more force than necessary. "Last year, we selected a perfectly suitable woman for him. The engagement was announced in the Times, for God's sake. And then what happened, Alexander?" I loosened my tie slightly. "Dad—" "He canceled it two weeks before the wedding," Father continued, addressing the room like I wasn't there. "The merger nearly fell apart because of it." Aunt Patricia gasped dramatically. "Penelope Langford? Such a lovely girl and from a good family. What a shame." "She wasn't right for me," I said firmly. Valentina finally looked up from her phone. "He didn't like her. Said she reminded him of a corporate spreadsheet – technically perfect but utterly boring." "Thank you for sharing that, Val," I muttered. My sister shrugged and went back to her phone. "Just telling it like it is." Grandfather Harold thumped his cane again. "Enough! The terms are simple. Alexander marries within six months, or Victoria receives my controlling stake in the company." Victoria nearly spilled her champagne in excitement. "Really, Grandfather? You'd give me control?" Her husband Thomas straightened his posture, dollar signs practically visible in his eyes. "I didn't build this company for forty years to watch it get dismantled by your husband's investment firm," Grandfather snapped at Victoria. "But at least you understand commitment." I stood up, pacing the Persian rug. "This is absurd. You're reducing the future of our family business to whether or not I get married? What century is this?" "The century where actions have consequences," Grandfather replied. "Victoria may be insufferable—" "Hey!" Victoria protested. "—but she's stable. Married. Committed." Victoria's smirk returned. "Face it, Alexander. You couldn't commit to a woman if your life depended on it. Now your career does, and we all know how that's going to end." Something snapped inside me. I'd tolerated Victoria's barbs for years, but this was different. This was my life's work at stake. "You know what, Victoria? You're wrong." "Am I?" She swirled her champagne. "Name one relationship you've had that lasted longer than a corporate quarterly report." My cousin Matthew, who'd been silently watching the drama unfold, whistled low. "She's got you there, Alex." I straightened my shoulders. "I'll do it. I'll get married within six months." The room fell silent again. "To whom?" Father asked skeptically. "I'll figure that out." Victoria burst into laughter. "Oh, this is too good! Alexander Carter, CEO and eligible bachelor, desperately seeking a wife. Should we put an ad in the classifieds?" Her husband joined in. "Maybe we should start interviewing candidates. Create a shortlist." "I don't need help finding someone," I said through gritted teeth. Aunt Elizabeth, who'd been quietly knitting in the corner, looked up. "What about that nice PR director at your company? Jennifer, something?" "She's married, Mother," Victoria said. "Oh. Well, what about your assistant?" "I'm not marrying my assistant, Aunt Elizabeth." Grandfather Harold raised his hand for silence. "The terms are set. Six months from today." Uncle Richard raised his glass. "To Alexander's impending nuptials! May he find a bride before Victoria gets his office." Victoria clinked glasses with her father. "I'm already planning where to put my new desk." I clenched my jaw. "Enjoy the fantasy while it lasts, cousin. I'm not losing the company." "Six months, Alexander," Grandfather reminded me. "The clock starts now." Chapter 6 Olivia I slept fitfully, my mind a carousel of images: Ryan's shocked face, Sophia's smug smirk, and, oddly, Alexander Carter's piercing gray eyes watching me in the rearview mirror. The weekend crawled by in a haze. I spent most of the time curled up on my couch, binging old movies, eating takeout, and ignoring the world, especially Ryan's desperate attempts to reach me. I let myself grieve, but by Sunday night, I was done crying; Ryan didn't deserve another tear. Monday morning arrived with brutal efficiency. I dragged myself into the shower, letting the hot water pound away the remnants of Friday night's disaster. No tears; I'd shed enough of those already. Ryan didn't deserve them. I wrapped myself in a towel and stared at my closet. What does one wear after catching their boyfriend balls-deep in another woman? I opted for armor: a crisp white blouse, a black pencil skirt, and highest heels. The kind of outfit that said, "I'm fine, fuck you very much." The cab ride to Carter Enterprises took twenty minutes. I spent it scrolling through Ryan's increasingly desperate texts. "Baby, please let me explain" "It was a mistake." "Call me." "I love YOU, not her." Delete. Delete. Delete. Delete. Carter Enterprises occupied a gleaming sixty-story tower in downtown Los Angeles. I'd been working there for eight months as a junior marketing executive, and despite the drama of my personal life imploding, I still felt a flutter of pride walking through those glass doors. The elevator whisked me to the 42nd floor. I stepped into the marketing department, where Nova was already at her desk, sipping her usual triple-shot espresso. "Morning, sunshine!" she called, then squinted at me. "You look different. New lipstick?" "New life status. Single." I dropped my bag at my desk. Before Nova could respond, Vivian breezed in, her red curls bouncing as she walked. "Ladies, you won't believe the email I just got. Apparently, the big boss himself will be sitting in on our presentation this week." "Alexander Carter?" I nearly choked on the words. "The one and only," Vivian confirmed, perching on the edge of my desk. "Why do you look like you've seen a ghost? It's not like you'll have to talk to him." If only she knew. "I'm just surprised," I managed. "He doesn't usually attend department presentations." Alice arrived last, as usual, balancing a stack of folders and her phone. "Sorry, I'm late. The barista got my order wrong twice. What did I miss?" "Alexander Carter's coming to our presentation, and Olivia's single," Nova summarized. Alice's eyes widened. "What? Which one should I address first?" "The presentation," I said quickly. "It's more important." "Like hell it is," Nova swiveled her chair to face me fully. "Spill it, Morgan. What happened with Ryan?" I sighed, lowering my voice. "I caught him fucking Sophia at her birthday party." All three women froze. "Sophia Santos? The one whose party you rushed off to?" Vivian clarified, her mouth hanging open. I nodded. "That backstabbing cunt," Nova breathed. "I hope his dick falls off," Alice added, patting my shoulder. "That's almost verbatim what Emilia said," I laughed despite myself. "What did you do?" Vivian leaned in, hungry for details. "I dumped him on the spot and left. End of story." "Good for you," Nova said firmly. "You deserve someone who knows what he has." "Preferably someone with a bigger dick and a functioning moral compass," Alice suggested. "Can we please focus on work now?" I begged. "I have the social media analytics to finish before lunch." They reluctantly returned to their desks, but I caught them shooting me concerned glances throughout the morning. I buried myself in spreadsheets and engagement metrics, grateful for the distraction. The last thing I needed was to think about that night, including my unexpected encounter with Alexander Carter. The CEO of Carter Enterprises wasn't just my boss; he was a legend in the business world. Cold, calculating, brilliant. He'd taken his grandfather's company and transformed it into a multinational corporation in less than a decade. The tabloids occasionally linked him with models or actresses, but he was notoriously private. And I really, really didn't want him to connect the dots between the disheveled woman he'd rescued and Olivia Morgan, a junior marketing executive. At lunch, we headed to the company cafeteria on the 30th floor. I scanned the room instinctively, relaxing when I didn't spot any tall, dark-haired executives. "So," Vivian said as we settled at our usual table, "tell us more about Friday. You rushed out of here like your ass was on fire." I poked at my salad. "Not much to tell. I got to the party, couldn't find Ryan, went looking for him, and found him bent over Sophia's dresser, drilling her like he was looking for oil." Nova snorted water through her nose. "Jesus, Liv! Warning next time." "What did you say?" Alice asked, leaning forward. "I asked if they'd been 'careful' and reminded him that monogamy is apparently very limiting." I stabbed a cherry tomato. "Then I told him to go fuck himself. Or Sophia. Whichever." "Queen shit," Vivian raised her water bottle in a toast. "To Olivia, who doesn't take crap from cheating assholes." "To Olivia," the others echoed. "Anything else interesting happened?" Alice asked. "Did you key his car? Throw drinks? Create a scene?" I hesitated. "No, nothing like that. Emilia and I just left." I couldn't bring myself to mention Alexander. It felt too surreal, too private somehow. The next few days passed in a blur of work and ignored calls from Ryan. I threw myself into the upcoming presentation, staying late to perfect the slides and rehearse my talking points. If Alexander Carter was going to be there, everything needed to be flawless. Not that he'd recognize me. He probably rescued women from creeps all the time. Why would he remember one random encounter? Thursday morning, I arrived early to set up the conference room. Our presentation on the new social media campaign was scheduled for 10 AM, and my stomach had been in knots since I woke up. "Relax," Nova said, adjusting the projector. "Carter probably won't even show up. These executives always have 'emergencies' that pull them away." "And if he does show up, he'll be on his phone the whole time," Vivian added, straightening the chairs. Alice arrived with a tray of coffee. "Or he'll leave halfway through. That's what happened at the last sales presentation." Their attempts at reassurance weren't helping. I couldn't shake the image of Alexander recognizing me, his eyebrows rising in surprise as he connected the dots between professional Olivia Morgan and the emotional wreck he'd driven home. By 9:55, the room was filled with marketing staff and a few executives I recognized from other departments. I took my position near the front, reviewing my notes one last time. At exactly 10 AM, the room fell silent. I looked up to see Alexander Carter striding through the door, followed by two assistants. He was even more imposing in his natural habitat with a charcoal suit perfectly tailored to his broad shoulders, and his presence commanded attention effortlessly. He nodded to the room and took a seat in the back row. I quickly looked down at my notes, my heart hammering against my ribs. There are limited chapters to put here, click “learn more” to open App to continue reading (It will automatically jump to the book)👇👇👇 #Goodnovel #novel

After the divorce, he realized that his ex-wife had become a part of his routine. When they crossed paths again, she had transformed into a glowing medical expert. He thought that if he simply asked her, she would come back to him. But to his surprise, she announced her engagement to a wealthy tycoon. ===== "Belle, you're useless to me now. Sleep on forever, and don't ever wake up again." After lying in a coma for five long years, Isabelle Reed was finally able to regain control of her body and move again. The deep, velvety voice of her husband, Kolton Reed, rang in her head. The heartless ba**ard! Isabelle balled her hands tightly into fists, fighting against the wave of nausea roiling inside her. She had first crossed paths with Kolton at the age of twelve. By twenty, she was his wife. At twenty-two, she had an accident in childbirth and fell into a coma. The doctors had written her off, saying her body was functioning but her mind was gone--no awareness, no perception. A living shell. But Isabelle had been fully aware. She could feel, and she could hear; the only thing she couldn't do was wake up. And that powerless state allowed her to discover the truth about the man she loved. A nurse knocked and entered to remind Kolton, "Mr. Reed, visiting hours are over." Kolton's lips curved in that charming, polished smile of his as he nodded. Before leaving, he bent down and pressed a tender k**s to Isabelle's forehead, just as he had done countless times before. "Wake up soon, Belle. I'll always be here, waiting and loving you." Isabelle scoffed inwardly. Wasn't it such a shame that his performance was completely wasted on her, his immobile wife? Two nurses outside, however, were bewitched. They watched him go with dreamy eyes. "Mr. Reed is the perfect husband," one whispered. "Five years, and he still comes every week." "He's handsome, rich, and scandal-free," the other said with a sigh. "So many women throw themselves at him, yet he remains faithful. That's really impressive. Isabelle is truly the luckiest woman in the world to have such an ideal husband!" An ideal husband? Isabelle smiled bitterly at the irony. If only they knew. He had used her brains to climb the corporate ladder, drained her worth as a mother, and then prayed she'd stay in that hospital bed forever. An "ideal" husband indeed. Kicking back the blanket, Isabelle tried to stand. But after five motionless years, her body betrayed her. Her muscles were useless, her legs buckled, and she collapsed heavily. She bit down on the pain and dragged herself across the floor to the window. Outside, a sleek black Bentley waited below. It was the anniversary gift Kolton had once given her, the plate number set to her birthday. Back then, she had been glowing with happiness, wrapping herself in his arms and asking, "Kolton, do you really love me?" He had smiled, ki**ed her sweetly, and answered, "Si**y girl, you're my wife. Of course I love you. Belle, this is only our first year together; we have more years ahead of us." So that was love? A role he could play effortlessly. Now Isabelle watched as Kolton's secretary, Joelle Murphy, climbed out of the Bentley, carrying herself like she owned the car, strutting confidently in her high heels. She walked up to Kolton with a grin, stumbled on something, and pitched forward. Kolton rushed in, catching her before she could hit the ground. Isabelle had never seen Kolton wear that worry look before. To Kolton, she was unbreakable, untouched by pain or exhaustion, and always compliant, like a pet trained to obey. All it ever took was a single gesture, and he could have her at his beck and call. When Isabelle graduated from college, she was offered a position at a world-renowned medical research institute. But the moment Kolton said, "Belle, stay. I need you," she stopped at the boarding gate and walked away from her future, choosing instead to become his wife. After they married, she threw herself completely into supporting Kolton, pushing her body to the brink until she suffered a stomach he**rrhage. In the end, she created a breakthrough d**g that cemented his rise in Sky Group, earning him the title of the youngest director in the board's history. Back then, Kolton had promised her a lifetime of care. And she had believed fo**ishly. The memories pierced Isabelle like a dull bl**e, leaving her shuddering with agony. Tears slipped from the corners of her eyes, bitter on her tongue. Outside, Joelle put on a sweet smile, planting a quick k**s on Kolton's cheek. The sight turned Isabelle's stomach. Then the rear door of the car opened. Isabelle spotted her twins, Emily and James Reed, the children she had nearly given her life for, climbing out of the car. They looked radiant, almost angelic. "Jim! Emmy!" Isabelle's heart swelled with aching love, her hand pressing desperately against the glass as she tried to reach them. But the children threw themselves into Joelle's arms, ki**ing her cheeks with devotion. Kolton stood next to them, his smile soft and doting, as if they were a picture-perfect family of four. Seeing this pierced Isabelle's ch**t like needles. In these five years, Kolton had scarcely brought the twins to see her. She remembered vividly one visit when Joelle had tagged along. With no one else around, Joelle coaxed Emily into calling her "Mommy" right in front of Isabelle. Right then, all Isabelle wanted was to rip Joelle to shreds. Isabelle planted her palms on the glass, looking out with a determined expression on her face. She could discard Kolton like tr**h, but her children were her flesh and bl**d. She would reclaim them. As if sensing something, Emily suddenly looked up toward the window. Their eyes met. Isabelle instinctively smoothed her messy hair and forced a gentle smile. But Emily's face twisted in fear. She clung to Joelle, trembling. Isabelle's heart sank. Her daughter was frightened of her. "Daddy, Joelle, someone's there!" Emily pointed to the window. Kolton glanced up, a puzzled look appearing on his face. That was Isabelle's room. But there was no one by the window. "Emmy, maybe you imagined it?" he asked carefully. "No!" Emily shook her head, insistent. "I saw a woman with long hair." Kolton frowned, about to respond when his phone vibrated. The caller was Roderick Ward, Isabelle's attending doctor. Kolton picked up the call. "Dr. Ward?" "Mr. Reed!" The doctor's voice quivered with excitement. "Wonderful news! Your wife has regained consciousness!" Chapter 2 Pretending To Be Blind In her hospital room, Isabelle sat upright on the bed while doctors and nurses gathered around, running checks on her condition. She had pressed the call button to alert the nurses that she was awake. Five years trapped in a coma was more than enough for her. Now that she had regained consciousness, she knew exactly what she wanted--divorce. Her younger years had already been stolen, but she was determined to take back what was hers--her wealth, her career, and most of all, her children. She refused to let Kolton, that two-faced monster, keep them. Her endgame was to take away his custody rights and make sure he was left with nothing at all. But after being absent for such a long time, she needed to bide her time and prepare carefully. Out of the corner of her eye, Isabelle spotted Kolton's silhouette outside the doorway. It was time to put her plan into motion. "Dr. Ward, what about my eyes?" Isabelle asked, her voice trembling. "Why can't I see anything?" Kolton stepped inside in time to hear her. He froze, a frown on his face, then hurried to her bedside, looking visibly shaken. "Belle," he whispered softly. The sound of his voice alone made her stomach turn. "You're finally here, Kolton," she said, forcing back her disgust. She stretched out blindly, her unfocused eyes searching as she stumbled forward and collapsed into Kolton's arms. Her nose immediately picked up the faint but unmistakable scent of another woman's perfume on him. "I'm scared, Kolton. I can't see you," she whimpered. Kolton wrapped his arms around her, soothing her with gentle words. "Don't worry, I'm here. I'll pay whatever it takes to make you better." Roderick remarked reassuringly, "Mr. Reed, there's no need to panic. Your wife's eyes aren't damaged. After such a long coma, her optic nerves simply need time to recover." Kolton asked curiously, "So how long until she makes a full recovery?" Roderick hesitated, then admitted, "It depends on how her body heals. It could be two or three months, or much longer. But we can't say for sure." Isabelle slumped lightly against Kolton, determination burning in her eyes without him noticing. She could sense the stiffness in his body slowly relax. It seemed her blindness made him let his guard down. Taking advantage of the moment, Isabelle pleaded, "Kolton, I don't want to stay here anymore. I want to go home. When my sight returns, I want the first faces I see to be you and our children." Roderick agreed, adding, "Mr. Reed, going back to a familiar environment might even help her recovery." Kolton thought it over, then nodded. He would take her home. Because her legs were still too weak to support her, Kolton borrowed a wheelchair from the hospital and wheeled her downstairs. Thinking back to how he'd rushed to catch Joelle earlier, Isabelle couldn't help but find it bitterly ironic. He was willing to hold another woman, yet he wouldn't hold his wife. Inside the elevator, a mirror reflected their images. Hidden behind her sunglasses, Isabelle studied Kolton carefully. Five years had done nothing to diminish him. If anything, he was more handsome than before, his striking face now burnished with maturity. She, on the other hand, was a shadow of her former self--thin, drained, and lifeless. Kolton had sucked her dry, taken everything she had, and left her hollow. When they reached the lobby, Isabelle glanced around in secret. There was no sign of Joelle or the children; they must have already left. Kolton wheeled Isabelle to the car and opened the passenger door. Right away, her eyes caught on an expensive lipstick tube sitting on the seat. Kolton shot her a quick look, then smoothly scooped up the lipstick, tucked it into his pocket, and helped her into the passenger seat as if nothing had happened. "Kolton, in the five years I was asleep, has another woman ever sat in this seat?" Isabelle asked softly once she was seated. "Of course not," Kolton blurted out. Then, with a forced laugh, he added, "Everyone knows better than to cross you. You once faced a group of kidnappers with a g*n." The memory came rushing back. Not long after their wedding, Kolton had been kidnapped. The police were moving at a frustratingly slow pace, and Isabelle was almost losing her mind with worry. Desperate, she pulled every string she could, using all her contacts until she finally uncovered where he was being held. In the end, she showed up herself, armed with both cash and a g*n, willing to gamble her own life to bring him back. After she rescued Kolton, he had sworn never to let her down. The traffic light ahead turned red, and the car rolled to a stop. Kolton turned suddenly, watching her. "Belle, what was it like when you were in a coma?" Behind her sunglasses, Isabelle's eyes went cold, but she kept her voice low and trembling. "Like being trapped in an endless dream. Nothing but darkness--no sight, no sound. Just terror." Satisfied with her answer, Kolton squeezed her hand. "It's all over now, Belle. We're going home." Isabelle gave a strained smile. "Yes, it's over." It was over between her and Kolton. Now it was time for payback. As the light turned green, Kolton stepped on the gas, and the car sped forward. A sleek black Maybach shot past, skimming dangerously close. Inside, a man with a sculpted face sat shrouded in the shadows, looking cold and intimidating. His eyes narrowed instantly when Isabelle's face flickered across his view. He rolled the window down, staring after her as the car pulled away. Oliver Singh, seated in the passenger seat, turned to ask, "Mr. Gill, is something wrong?" He had never seen his boss look shaken. "Nothing," Nathaniel Gill answered quietly as the Bentley disappeared into the distance. He looked away, eyes settling on the towering Sky Group building glowing against the night. He squinted, a faint, mocking smile tugging at his striking lips. "Isabelle," he muttered, the name escaping his mouth coldly, yet filling him with an inexplicable nostalgia. "Was it worth it?" Chapter 3 Let Me Hug You The black Bentley rolled to a stop in front of a villa. Kolton carried Isabelle out of the car and placed her into the wheelchair before pushing her toward the house. From behind her dark sunglasses, Isabelle quietly took in the view of the house before her. This was the home she had once shared with Kolton after their wedding, the place where they had lived before her coma. She hadn't seen it in five years; it felt like an entire lifetime had passed. "Belle, we're home," Kolton whispered affectionately into her ear. "Can you smell it? The tulips you planted for me are still here. I've taken good care of them." Isabelle's eyes fell on the rows of tulips blooming in the front garden. They stood tall and luminous under the moonlight, as lovely as when she first planted them. Back then, she had planted every bulb herself, simply because Kolton had once said tulips were his favorite flower. At that time, she had hung on his every word, never stopping to question why he liked tulips, even after filling the entire garden with thousands. After she was trapped in her vegetative state, Joelle visited her with a bouquet of tulips, whispering with a cruel smile, "Isabelle, you don't know yet, do you? Tulips are my favorite flower. Thank you for planting so many of them in the garden. They make me happy every time I visit your home with Kolton." ... Isabelle felt a pang of hatred. She reached down and snapped the stem of a tulip in half with a violent twist. She didn't regret the years she'd spent loving Kolton, but he had no right to trample on that love. Kolton wheeled her up to the front door. The villa had been Isabelle's design. She had chosen everything, right down to the biometric lock on the front door. As the wheelchair stopped, her hand instinctively reached out to press the lock, but Kolton's firm palm stopped her. His hand was damp with sweat. He was nervous. "Belle, let me do it," he said softly. Isabelle smiled faintly and bitterly as she suddenly realized that he had gone so far as to delete her fingerprint from the lock. She held back the bitter laugh burning in her throat. The pain was too heavy to release. She slowly withdrew her hand, watching quietly as Kolton leaned in to unlock the door. Just before the latch clicked, a slender, manicured hand pulled it open. Joelle stood there in the doorway, poised and confident, like she was a part of the family. Isabelle clenched her fists on her lap, the rage burning inside her. Had Joelle lived in this house all along? Sl**t in her b*d? Taken her husband? Stolen her children during these five years? Joelle pulled the door open with a smile, but the moment her eyes landed on Isabelle sitting in the wheelchair beside Kolton, she froze in place. "Kolton, why aren't you taking me inside?" Isabelle spoke suddenly. Out of the corner of her eye, reflected faintly in the mirror on the wall, she saw Kolton make a small gesture to Joelle to stay silent. Realizing Isabelle couldn't see her, Joelle quietly stepped aside, allowing Kolton to wheel her through the doorway. Behind her sunglasses, Isabelle's eyes turned icy as they landed on Joelle's hand resting against the doorframe. "Kolton, I feel a bit cold," she said sweetly. "Could you get me something warm and cozy?" "Of course. There's a blanket on the sofa. Wait right here," Kolton replied, moving toward the living room. Joelle's eyes followed him unconsciously, giving Isabelle the opening she needed. She slammed the door shut with great force. Joelle's hand, too slow to pull away, was crushed painfully in the frame. She bit down on her lip, smothering the scream in her throat. "Kolton!" Isabelle cried out, feigning panic, her arms flailing like she was reaching blindly. "I tried to close the door, and something got caught! I'm so scared!" Kolton headed toward Joelle to check on her, but was caught by Isabelle's frantic grasp. He had to soothe Isabelle first. "It's nothing, just one of the kids' toys. Don't worry. You can't see right now, Belle, so let me handle doors from now on." His tone was calm, but Isabelle caught the flicker of irritation in his eyes. "Kolton, where are Jim and Emmy? Where are my babies?" Isabelle asked urgently. She had picked out names for her twins long before they were born. Right now, she couldn't wait to see them and hold them in her arms. As for that shameless mi**ress, she couldn't care less. Her love for her babies had been her only anchor through these tough five years. "They have school in the morning," Kolton said softly. "They're already asleep. Don't worry, Belle. You'll see them soon once your eyesight is better." Behind the cover of her glasses, Isabelle's eyes dimmed. She couldn't appear too eager, or Kolton would become suspicious. But just as she was about to speak again, small footsteps pattered down the staircase. She turned her head instinctively and saw Emily and James descending together, hand in hand. They were dressed in matching pajamas, slippers shuffling quietly against the floor--Emily in pink, James in blue. Isabelle almost broke into tears of excitement. "Dad," James called when his eyes fell on Isabelle in the wheelchair. He seemed to sense who she might be. His little hand gripped his shirt tightly as he hesitated, nervous. Emily, however, gazed up toward Joelle, her eyes shining with affection. She parted her lips as if to call out to her, but Joelle shook her head firmly. She obeyed and shut her mouth without question. "Are those Emmy and Jim?" Isabelle asked, her voice trembling as she opened her arms toward them. "I'm your mommy. Come here, let me hug you." Emily shrank back, retreating in fear. James lingered uncertainly before finally inching toward Isabelle. He reached out a small hand and brushed her cheek, as though to confirm she was real. "Are you really our mommy?" "Yes, sweetheart. I'm your mommy, and Emmy's too," Isabelle whispered gently. Her whole body ached to scoop him into her arms, but she held back, afraid of frightening him. To them, she was little more than a stranger who had slept through their lives. "Alright, it's late," Kolton said, stepping in. "Jim, take your sister back to your room. Tomorrow after school, I'll explain everything to you both about your mother." James hesitated, glancing back at Isabelle again and again as he started guiding Emily upstairs. Isabelle called out desperately, "Sweetheart, can I hold you?" Her voice cracked, a tear slipping from under her sunglasses. James paused, torn, about to turn back when Kolton said in a firm voice, "Jim, to your room." He placed a hand on Isabelle's shoulder, his expression gentle. "The children lost you for years, Belle. They need time to adjust." Isabelle's heart twisted in agony. Kolton was doing this deliberately. He didn't want her to get close to them. James tugged Emily along, obediently retreating upstairs. Emily glanced back, not at Isabelle, but at Joelle, blowing her a little k**s. The gesture stabbed Isabelle's ch**t like a bl**e. She shut her eyes, crushed under the weight of betrayal and grief. She could discard Kolton, but she would never let anyone steal her children. When the twins were gone, Kolton wheeled Isabelle into their bedroom and set her on the bed. Her eyes darted to the wall. The wedding photo that had once hung proudly was gone, tossed aside into a corner, half-covered by a cloth that concealed her face. A bitter laugh rose inside her. So much did Kolton hate her now that even her photo couldn't be tolerated. "Belle, rest early. I need to finish some work in the study," Kolton said softly. She gave him a calm smile. "Alright." The moment he left and the door shut, her smile faded. She didn't believe for a second that he was going to the study. With effort, Isabelle swung her weak legs down to the floor. Bracing herself against the wall, she forced her frail body upright and began the slow journey to the window. Every step felt like torture. What should have taken seconds stretched into five agonizing minutes, her body drenched in sweat by the time she reached the glass. And there, beneath the pale light of the moon, she saw it--Kolton and Joelle locked in an embrace. Chapter 4 It Was Not Worth It Joelle clung tightly to Kolton's waist, framed by the tulips Isabelle had once planted with care, the whole sight like something pulled from a perfect painting. A soft, self-mocking laugh escaped Isabelle's lips. Kolton gently pulled Joelle aside, then reached into his pocket and pulled out the lipstick she had forgotten, handing it back to her. They exchanged a few words, after which she rose on her toes to press a k**s to his lips. Isabelle could no longer stomach the nauseating display. She stepped back from the window and approached the walk-in closet. The closet was large, but her clothes occupied only one section--garments mostly in white that carried an air of grace and serenity. Kolton preferred her in white, and so she always wore white dresses to please him, even though she never liked the style. The thought left Isabelle feeling absurd. Quietly, she unlocked a hidden compartment in the closet. Inside were her ID, passport, bank cards, two mobile phones, and a thick file folder. The words "Apex University" printed across the cover of the folder hit her like a sharp reminder of dreams long abandoned. She stole only a fleeting glance before turning away. Inside the folder were things she had never managed to send, the source of her deepest regret through all these years. Picking up one of the phones, she switched it on and scrolled through her contacts. She was relieved when she saw the names were still there. She quickly dialed the number of her best friend, Katrina Moore. The line barely rang before Katrina answered, her voice trembling with a mix of shock, joy, and raw emotion. "Belle? Is that really you?" Katrina g**ped. Before Isabelle could reply, Katrina burst out furiously, "Listen, if you're that ba**ard Kolton, I swear I'll drag you across social media for disturbing my sleep. My eighty million followers won't forgive you!" Isabelle laughed softly, a warm and nostalgic feeling in her ch**t. "Katy, it's me," she replied. For a moment, silence settled on the line. But Isabelle knew her friend's habits well. She pulled the phone slightly from her ear and counted--three, two, one... Katrina screamed, "Belle! You're finally awake! I've missed you so much! Are you at home or in the hospital? Just give me the address, and I'll rush to you this second. You've been in a vegetative state for five whole years, and every single time I tried to visit, Kolton's people blocked me. Even the flowers I brought were tossed into the tr**h bin." Isabelle knew all too well that Kolton had done it deliberately, cutting her off from every connection to the outside world. She longed to see her best friend, but now wasn't the right moment. "Katy, I can't meet you yet. But I need you to help me with two things," Isabelle said. "Tell me what they are! Whatever it is, I'll do it. Honestly, I could hire someone to finish Kolton off for keeping you in that state for five years!" Katrina spat, seething. That was what real friendship looked like. With a faint smile, Isabelle went straight to the point. "I need you to look into Kolton's secretary, Joelle Murphy. I want every detail you can find." "No problem. She's been by his side at every public appearance during these five years, acting like his wife. I've always wanted to give her a piece of my mind," Katrina shot back. Isabelle went quiet. Joelle had originally been hired as her secretary, brought in by Kolton while she was pr**nant, supposedly to ease her load. Clearly, things between Kolton and Joelle had not been so simple. "Belle, what's the second thing?" Katrina asked. Isabelle steadied her breath. "Tomorrow, could you arrange for some gardeners to come to my place? I want the tulips dug up and replaced with my favorite--" "Yellow roses!" Katrina cut her off. Isabelle blinked in surprise. "How did you know?" She had adored yellow roses since she was a little girl, but after Kolton had declared his love for tulips, she had buried her own preference deep inside, never mentioning it again. Katrina had only known her since college. How could she possibly know? Katrina muttered, "I can't believe he was right. Your favorite flower really is yellow roses." "Who are you talking about?" Isabelle asked quickly. Katrina's reply stunned her utterly. "Nathaniel Gill. Do you remember him?" The name nearly made Isabelle drop the phone. Of course, she remembered him. That face, too handsome and mischievous, was carved into her memory, impossible to forget. The last time she had seen Nathaniel was seven years ago, at the airport. Back then, she was about to board her flight when Kolton's call came. Without a second thought, she turned back. And Nathaniel was the only one trying to stop her. He stood tall and composed in front of her, his broad frame blocking the light. The glow of the setting sun spilled behind him, leaving his striking face half in shadow. His sharp eyes held a flash of menace that made her falter. He had always been cold and detached, the kind of man who kept his distance. Isabelle had never once seen him lose control. But that day, his eyes were colder than she had ever known. In the depths of his eyes, she saw her reflection staring back. And she would never forget the last words he spoke to her. "Isabelle, is it worth it?" His voice was low and commanding, his finely shaped lips pursed. Without answering him, she brushed past with unshaken determination, never once looking back. But now, she finally had her answer. Gazing at her pale, fragile reflection in the mirror, Isabelle murmured, "No, it was not worth it. But I will put right the mistakes I've made." ...... What happens next? Available chapters here are limited, click the button below to install the App and enjoy more exciting chapters (Automatically jump to this novel when you open the app) &4&

"This is our wedding. Don't make a scene," my fiancé texted, abandoning our big day for the 9th time to comfort his "fragile" friend. I didn't cry. I just took off my veil, canceled the ceremony, and texted his billionaire rival: "Does your offer to marry me still stand?" 👰🔥 -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- It was the ninth time Bo Whitaker had vanished in the middle of a wedding event. His friends had started placing bets on how many seconds it would take me to start breaking things. The engagement party. The wedding photo shoot. The appointment at the County Clerk's Office to file for the marriage license. Every single time he was supposed to show up, a phone call pulled him away. Today was no different. I took off my veil and told the guests to leave first. My voice was steady. I didn't scream. I didn't smash a single thing. Tucker Miller, the one who always got the betting started, dialed Bo right in front of everyone. He put it on speaker. "Whitaker, you bail every damn time. Lila used to lose it immediately. She's way too quiet today. It's creepy. You think she's got something else planned?" Bo's voice came through the speaker, breathless and rushed. "Daisy's having another episode. She can't be alone right now. Tell Lila to wait for me. The wedding goes on as planned." Eight times in three years. This time, I wasn't waiting. Tucker turned to the people behind him, a grin still stuck on his face. "Last time he was less than three minutes late and she knocked the entire flower wall down. This is a way bigger event. Two minutes. I'm betting she starts flipping tables." Someone nudged him. "Knock it off. Look at her face." Tucker didn't care. "She'll get it out of her system. Bo says a few soft words and she'll cool right off, same as always." So every time I fell apart, they saw it as pre-wedding entertainment. My bridesmaid came over and took my hand gently. "Lila, should I call him again?" "No." I walked over to the wedding planner's table. "Everyone, the wedding is canceled." The planner froze, her walkie-talkie hovering in midair. "But Mr. Whitaker said to keep everything running as planned." She glanced at my wedding dress and couldn't stop herself. "We spent three months on this gown. Mr. Whitaker came in every single week to check on the progress." I suddenly remembered something the makeup artist had mentioned offhand the night before, during the trial run. "Mr. Whitaker specifically requested this neckline. He said it couldn't be cut too low. He said you have a small scar on your chest and he didn't want you to feel self-conscious about it." That scar. I gave it to myself the night of the engagement party, after he disappeared. I locked myself in the bathroom and used a shard of glass. He remembered to cover the scar. He just didn't remember how it got there. I looked down at the skirt. Hand-stitched embroidery and sequins, glittering under the lights. It was beautiful. And it was laughable. Daisy twisted her ankle. He left. Daisy was scared of a thunderstorm. He left. The day we went to the County Clerk's Office to file the paperwork, she said she had stomach cramps. He left anyway. The reasons always changed. The outcome never did. He always dropped me to go to her. He spent all that time picking out the dress, watching every detail, selecting jewelry. But showing up to the wedding on time was never something he treated as important. Every time he came back, he brought up the car accident from twelve years ago. Daisy saved his life, he said. He couldn't just abandon her. He wanted me to understand. To be gracious. To accept it. Tucker saw I still hadn't exploded and dialed Bo again. This time, a woman's voice came through first. "I feel so awful, Bo... Stay with me. Please?" I knew that tone too well. She always sounded like she was about to break at exactly the right moment. Bo's voice dropped low. "I'm not leaving. I'll stay." The grin on Tucker's face faltered. He glanced at me. His mouth kept running. "Bo, is there seriously no one else on earth who can deal with Daisy's condition except you?" The voice on the other end was clearly annoyed now. "Cut the crap. Tell Lila I'll be back when I'm done." The call ended. Bo's texts popped up immediately. First one: Daisy needs a little more time. Handle things on your end first. I'll be back as fast as I can. Second one: This is our wedding day. Don't make a scene. Be a good girl. Be a good girl. I stared at that word and laughed out loud. Eight times in three years. Same script every time. I was done watching. I closed the chat and scrolled until I found a number I hadn't contacted in three years. My finger hovered over the screen for a long time. Then I typed out a message. Does what you said before still stand? Sent. I picked up my skirt and walked toward the door. Behind me, Tucker's voice cracked with panic. "Bo! She's actually leaving this time. She didn't break anything—" #Goodnovel #Wattpad #Dreame #Library #Novel #Booktok #Bookish 📚Only a limited number of chapters can be displayed here. Click "Continue Reading" to open the application and continue reading (it will automatically navigate to the corresponding book page).👇👇👇

😍🔞I bought him for the night.He took it as permission to ruin me.The moment the door closed, he chained my wrists above my head. “Little redhead,” he whispered, “why does a delicate human tremble like an omega in heat?” I should’ve been terrified. But his scent, his voice, the way he scraped his fangs along my throat— it lit something feral inside me. He promised to drag the truth out of me, one sinful sound at a time. What he doesn’t know is the truth he’s hunting— the runaway princess— is already moaning beneath him. ------------------------------------------- Chapter 1 KAT “You look perfect, Princess Katerina.” My fists clenched tightly in my lap. I had to make a conscious effort to breathe and calm myself. Perfect. I looked like a doll. The kind meant for display, pristine and never touched. The useless kind. Pale porcelain skin with the finest makeup applied so expertly that it looked seamless. Big blue eyes with lashes that didn’t need extensions. Plump red lips with the usual polite smile. “Thank you,” I answered, nodding at the makeup artist. “They’re waiting for you downstairs. Should I call your brother to accompany you?” My fists balled again. Lordswood Castle was more secure than any fortress. Bugs couldn’t get in without stringent vetting and permission, but even that wouldn’t be enough to get them into the inner keep. Yet they still accompanied me everywhere like a child. Still, all of this was for a good reason. Every sacrifice would be worth it in the end. “That won’t be necessary. Thank you, Alanna,” I said as I stood. “But the Alpha said—” “I’m sure I’ll be fine,” I interrupted, maintaining the smile so deeply ingrained in me it felt fused to my face. I straightened the long skirt of my dress and adjusted my posture, although this was easy to do thanks to the corset. It was as stiff as a board; I couldn’t slouch even if I wanted to. Only sparing a glance in the mirror, I nodded at the team of women who’d dressed me and headed out of my dressing room. I did look perfect, I had to give them that. Not a single strand of blonde hair out of place, shoulders straight, head held high. And every piece of clothing on my body was worth more than most people made in a year. I was the prize. The one raised to be envied. To complete my true mate’s life. To be a trophy. A prisoner. My smile slipped, and my steps faltered at the door to my bedroom. I was being unfair. My life was a privilege; I had to be grateful. My parents loved me and gave me everything, and my dear brother, Kostas, would burn the world down for me if I asked. “Why do they even bother? She’ll be eighteen soon; I doubt a true mate will fall in her lap anytime soon. They’ve set their expectations too high; she’s just an omega.” My shoulders stiffened. They must have thought I left already. Omega. Weak. Doomed to submit to every wolf, a burden to the one I’d mate, yet the most treasured in my pack. The irony wasn’t lost on me. “Quiet! If you want to survive here, keep such thoughts to yourself.” “But everyone says—” “You’ll be out of the castle before lunchtime if you finish that sentence. Prince Kostas will make sure you never step foot through the complex gates again.” There was silence after that, but I wanted that woman to finish what she was about to say. Everyone said what? I was stuck in the inner castle most of the time, and no one dared say a word out of place. Gossip hardly ever reached my ears, but when it did, it was the boring type. I bit back a huff. It was unladylike. Mother would have a fit if she heard me. Squaring my shoulders again, I stepped out into the wide hallway alone. There was still a chill in the air outside as we welcomed the spring, but all the rooms in my wing were nice and toasty. My father hated it if I so much as sniffled. He hardly let me out in the winter. But spring was here. The flowers were starting to bloom. And that meant long walks in the gardens, and the Spring Ball. Some excitement after a long winter. Anything was better than sitting alone with my thoughts. My steps were steady as I approached the two guards in all black combat uniforms at the end of the hallway, and I almost laughed when they turned to me and stiffened. The panic on their faces was priceless. “Your Royal Highness, please wait here to be accompanied,” one of them said with a small bow. I knew they would mindlink my brother the second they saw me, but I was prepared. I quickened my steps past them and turned into the next hallway, where several other guards waited. It was overkill, but what was a girl to do? I was assigned more guards than the king and queen. How far could I go this time? The entry hall, perhaps? I half jogged past the guards, and was almost at the staircase when my brother's head appeared as he jogged to the top. Damn. I’d almost made it. Sighing, I slowed my steps and met my brother’s scowling face. “You didn’t wait for me, Katerina,” he said. “I walked down two hallways by myself, Kostas. If I can’t even do that, how will I ever take care of my mate?” Predictably, the scowl deepened, and I almost giggled. My brother was a handsome man. He was the complete opposite of me. Towering height, brown-eyes, curly brunette hair, and there was nothing delicate about him. He was a warrior, the Lordswood Pack beta, second only to my father with his intimidating aura. I’d been told that was true even if he stood in a room full of alphas. “He will have to take care of you,” Kostas said firmly. “And don’t forget, this castle will be your home.” Of course. How could I forget that even after the mating ceremony, I would live within the same walls? Maybe a new face would change things. Shake me out of the monotony. There were only so many languages and musical instruments I could learn, and I was growing tired of all the law, financial, and economics books. Perhaps once I was mated, they would allow me to apply my studies in practice. Or even learn something else, like training with the rest of the pack. Now that was a dream worth holding onto. Kostas linked our arms and started walking. “Remember what I told you about today,” he said. “There are others on the list, but this one is a good candidate.” They’d said that about all of them. I’d been meeting ‘candidates’ since I was five, first under the guise of playdates, and then openly as my potential future mates. Over the past few weeks, I had a date every day, sometimes twice a day. Mother was in panic mode. My parents were ready to seal my fate. Resisting the urge to sigh again, I smiled up at my big brother. “If you say he’s right for me, then he must be,” I said. “Of course he is. He has a bright future ahead of him. Currently top of his class and excels in his training. Only someone like that could be your true mate,” Kostas said, his scowl vanishing. He beamed down at me, and I felt the warmth of his love and protection. Every misgiving I had about these dates deflated as I squeezed his arm. “I bet he will make an excellent addition to our pack.” Maybe mating wouldn’t be so bad, after all. I knew my parents wouldn’t pressure me to have children too soon. They just wanted to make sure I was settled in any eventuality. The whole pack would respect someone they approved of, and a true mate would never hurt me. We descended the grand staircase slowly, into the entrance hall. It was almost noon, so the servants should have been busy preparing lunch or cleaning the hundreds of rooms within the great stone structure. But there was silence. Too quiet. A ‘mood’, no doubt orchestrated by my mother. This new date must have been very important to bring things to a halt like that. Or mum was just desperate. “The sun’s out today. We’ll meet him in the courtyard,” Kostas said. I gasped and stopped walking, gripping my brother’s arm. “Really?” I asked, holding my breath. “It’s a beautiful day,” Kostas said gently with an indulgent smile. “You should see the first blooms with your future mate. I already told them to prepare your cloak.” I ignored the optimism in his words and half-dragged him through the halls on the lower floor. The courtyard. How I’d missed that. Even if the date didn’t go as planned, sitting in the open with the sun on my face would make up for it. “Mum and Dad have official business, so they will meet him later for tea. Your chaperones are already waiting,” Kostas said, then added with a chuckle, “Slow your steps. Don’t be so eager.” Right. I had to be proper. I was Her Royal Highness Princess Katerina Lordswood of Kingsland. There should be nothing to criticise about me. “Sorry, brother.” I lowered my head as my chaperones approached, and one of them draped my warm cloak over my shoulders. “I’ll be close, so don’t be afraid,” Kostas whispered, kissing my forehead before he stepped back. His words sent a chill down my back, but I brushed them off. I was going outside! My first genuine smile since I woke stretched across my face as the doors were opened, and I finally felt the sun directly for the first time in months. I didn’t mind the slight bite on my cheeks as we stepped out into the cold. I was eager to meet the next man on my parents’ dating list, just to walk around the gardens. My step remained surprisingly steady, and I kept my hands together in front of me and my head lowered. A lady walked with grace. An Omega with humility. We walked along the paved path by the pond towards the main seating area until we reached my favourite cherry blossom tree right in the middle of the yard. My smile widened. The tree was blooming. Soon, the whole courtyard would be filled with the lovely scent of the flowers. A little boy stood beside it, admiring the tree, hands in his pockets. He was dressed in a suit, as most visitors did. I wondered who his parents were. Perhaps they were the ones the King and Queen were entertaining. I stopped beside him and breathed deeply. “Your Highness,” the boy said, stepping back from me and bowing. “No need to be so formal,” I said, smiling at him. He was curly-haired and pimply, his face suggesting he was no older than twelve or thirteen. He probably hadn’t shifted yet, but his alpha blood was undeniable. In a few years, my wolf would submit to his, despite my royal bloodline. I looked away from him and suppressed that thought. Happy thoughts only. Today was a good day. “What’s your name, little boy? Are you here with your parents?” I asked. Did my tone change to that annoying one adults used on babies? I cringed slightly when I saw the tick in his jaw and the way his fists balled up. Even his grey eyes grew colder. His anger was almost like a slap on my cold cheeks. Weird. He must have been too young to start learning how to control himself. It was more important for alphas, considering how much damage even their auras could do to weaker wolves. “I’m not a little boy, Your Highness. I’m fifteen. My name is Justin.” He looked at me expectantly. Was I supposed to know him? Were his family members of the court? My father’s business allies? I’d been memorising names and faces for so long that sometimes they just blurred together. Still, I couldn’t be rude. “Nice to meet you, Justin. Perhaps we will see each other again soon. I’m here to meet someone. My brother won’t be pleased if he finds you here.” I almost giggled at the thought of Kostas’ reaction once he found out someone had slipped past him. The inner courtyard was sacred. My gaze darted across the manicured space, eager to meet my millionth date and take him for a tour. Despite Kostas allowing me outside so soon, my time would be limited. I’d make the most of it. “I’m who you’re meeting, Your Highness. I’m your date.” My smile dropped. My face twisted before I could stop it, my eyes widening as I looked at the boy who probably still had his nose wiped by his mother. What. The. Actual. Fuck? Chapter 2 KAT No. No, no, no. This couldn’t be real. This had to be a prank. A test. I’d gone through so many dates that the pool must have shrunk to almost nothing, but there was no way my parents thought this snotty little boy was suitable for me. Goddess forbid if there was actually a spark of a bond with him. What the hell were they thinking? I’d be eighteen in a few days. This wasn’t just a bad match; it was illegal! “Princess Katerina?” His babyish voice cut through the horror spiralling in my head, and I quickly smoothed my expression, forcing it back into something polite. Something practised. “M—my apologies, Justin,” I said, looking back at the two chaperones nearby. One of them looked away, her mouth twitching. They knew. They knew I’d been buffed and fluffed for a mere little boy. Was I a joke? “Please,” I said, remembering my manners. “Let’s sit.” One of Mother’s best tea sets was already laid out on the table, and a servant waited at a respectable distance, ready to serve. As if the day wasn’t cursed enough, the sun slipped behind a cloud, taking its warmth with it. Justin smirked as he dropped into a chair across from me, his eyes drifting lazily around the courtyard. His earlier tantrum seemed forgotten as he slouched in his seat and chuckled to himself. Obviously, he knew nothing about etiquette. Nothing about him stood out besides his alpha aura. There was no way this kid excelled at anything. “This place is really cool,” Justin said, lifting the delicate teacup like it was a soda can. “I thought you’d be mated before my turn came around.” My cheek burned as embarrassment rolled through me. His turn? Anyone who made it on my parents’ list was privileged. Saying they were taking turns sounded too vulgar. It was as if I were some box to tick off. Like he was doing me a favour. I looked away and sipped my tea, too. There was a whole meal coming after that, but I’d lost my appetite, and I suddenly didn’t feel like walking with this boy. “You’re only a child. It was obviously a mistake,” I said calmly, keeping my voice even. I wanted to storm back into the castle and demand answers, but Mother had drilled it into me—poise, no matter what. I had a guest, so I had to entertain him, even if he was fresh out of nappies. I almost snorted, but swallowed it back. I had to endure this. So much for going for a walk. It would be like babysitting, and I really wasn’t in the mood for that. Still, this was better than the dates I’d endured the past week. A shiver rippled down my spine, and my hand trembled. The teacup clattered softly as I set it down, the uneven sound echoing across the courtyard. No. Not now. There was no point in dwelling on the past. “I’m not a child,” Justin said through his teeth, the earlier temper peeking through. Something about the flash in his eyes tugged at my memory. Why did that look so familiar? That thought brought me out of my head as I studied the kid again. Had I seen him at a ball? In the background, at a pack gathering I’d spied on from one of my windows? “But at least I’m getting this out of the way quickly,” Justin continued. “Gives me better odds of finding my mate when I shift.” Frowning, I met the brat’s gaze head-on, breaking another of my parents’ rules. “What do you mean by that?” “You know,” the boy shrugged. I didn’t. Wasn’t he there to see if he was a match? Then why was he still thinking of finding a mate when he shifted? Not that I would even entertain that thought, but what the hell? “Which pack are you from?” I asked, fingers curling in my lap. He was clearly uncultured to act like I wasn’t good enough for him. I was a princess! What could he possibly object to? “Ironbridge,” Justin answered, glancing around again before reaching into his pocket and pulling his cell phone out. He pointed the camera towards the cherry blossom tree as if it were a sightseeing tour. Unbelievable. The scenery was more fascinating to him than I was! At least he didn’t try to take a picture of me. How he’d snuck that thing into the castle was beyond me. Kostas banned recording devices because, in his words, “not everyone deserves to gaze upon your beauty.” I used to roll my eyes at that, but now I was grateful. I’d studied enough cases to know exactly how wrong it could get when someone captured the wrong kind of image. A guard materialised from some hidden place behind me and snapped the phone out of the kid’s hand. “Aw, come on,” Justin whined. “It’s just a tree.” The guard thumbed through something on the phone, frowning, and then slipped it into his own pocket. Guess the brat was shit out of luck. “Tell him to give me back my phone. I don’t know why they treat you like you hung the sun in the sky. I’m just like you, I’m a prince, too. My dad won’t let it slide if I say you stole from me.” “You’re an alpha’s son?” I asked, even though comparing any other alpha in the kingdom to Father was treasonous. But Mother branched into the farther territories years ago. This brat could very well have been a real prince, a son of one of the neighbouring three kings. Justin leaned back, folding his arms as if he owned the world. “Yeah. Alpha Carter. You don’t want to piss him off.” A sharp noise cracked the air. I blinked. The handle of my cup had snapped in my hand. I loosened my grip and let the pieces fall onto the table while my eyes widened at the boy before me. My pulse pounded in my ears. I couldn’t breathe past the lump forming in my throat. A memory flared. A different date. Hair pulling. Greasy hand on my thigh. Rising further. That laugh when he told me what he would do to me. Twisting my hands together, I looked back at the guard. Of course this kid was a Carter. Not a real prince, not even close. Alpha Carter would never be an alpha king in any lifetime. No wonder this kid looked familiar. “You should have followed the rules,” I said. I was surprised that my voice remained steady. “They’ll check it and give it back to you at the end of our... meeting.” No way was I calling this a date. Especially now that I knew who he was. Anyone from that vile cesspit of a pack wasn’t worthy of setting foot through our complex gates, never mind sitting across from me. Didn’t Kostas think so? Had I really been reduced to this? Having him there felt like a betrayal. “My brother Aaron said you’re insane. I see it now,” Justin sneered. “Said you smiled like a robot no matter what he said to you.” My hands twitched. Aaron had said a lot. “And Samuel said there’s not much between your ears,” he continued. Pot. Kettle. Black. Samuel had the body of an alpha and the brain of a potato. He didn’t look or talk like he’d ever read a book in his life. Perfect gentleman when he wasn’t leering, but I struggled to keep my eyes open. “And Jake...” The smile dropped off my face completely. My skin crawled like a hundred baby spiders had just hatched on me. Justin saw it and laughed, glancing behind me, obviously calculating how much he could get away with. “Jake said you’d only be good for one thing.” My gaze snapped back to his. Blood rushed in my ears, and my vision sharpened. Only a few weeks until my first shift, and already the beast within me was stirring. If I lost control now and shifted, I could tear this degenerate pup apart. Because he was unshifted, he’d be defenceless. It would be like toying with a human. “If your brothers said all that, why are you here?” I asked. Behind me, I sensed my chaperones edging closer. Did they hear him? “You really don’t know?” Justin laughed, clapping his hands as if this was entertaining. “There’s a saying. Life isn’t complete until you’ve dated the princess. If you want to find your true mate, you have to dump her first.” Behind me, one of my chaperones—the one who’d struggled not to laugh when I met Justin—giggled. She knew! My cheeks flamed again. Humiliation rose in my chest. I dated these boys for a reason, for the good of the kingdom, but this was what they thought of me? My chest compressed, and I felt my heart shatter. Did my parents know? Did Kostas? The fury I’d been swallowing all morning while my maids wrapped me up for this boy returned a hundredfold, forcing me to my feet. “Mr Carter, we’re done here.” Justin stood, still laughing, and gave a mocking bow. Every part of me called out to slap that smug look off his face, but my hands remained clasped in front of me. Proper. Still perfect. Even as an inferno burned within me. “I wasn’t staying here long anyway. We’re obviously, thankfully, not true mates,” he said. “Hand me my phone back and wish me luck for my future, Princess.” “Good luck, Mr Carter,” I said, a smile still on my face. “You’ll need it to find anyone who’ll put up with that stench of manure coming from your mouth. You talk a lot for a child who’s mediocre at best. Unsurprising considering who your father is. I’ll remember your name fondly the next time Alpha Carter bows at my feet. Goodbye, little boy.” Chapter 3 KAT “Katerina, open this door.” I glanced up from my textbook, waiting. Was today the day Kostas finally lost his patience and broke it down? I’d avoided him for a week, hiding behind Mother’s endless matchmaking. She’d ramped it up again, so much so that it felt like that was all I did. Wake up. Dress. Date. Get humiliated. Start again. My fury still simmered inside me. My skin itched, ready to burst from the unfamiliar emotions I’d been struggling with, yet I knew what they meant. It was almost time. I wanted answers, a reason for this humiliation, but I couldn’t bring myself to ask. My omega wolf was already cowering. Hiding. Submitting to my family’s will, like I’d been taught my whole life. Kostas knew what the Carter boys had said and done. I was under no illusion that those guards who appeared out of thin air to save me during my date with Jake hadn’t reported everything. But he’d still set me up with another boy who had Carter blood running through his veins. My head was a jumbled mess. I'd never once doubted my family's love for me until my date with Justin; those questions kept circling my mind. All week, I’d caught the glances from the servants. Saw them whisper. I couldn’t hear them, my wolf hadn’t surfaced yet, but I felt their words. My humiliation was constant. I felt naked. “Katerina!” Kostas growled, louder now. Swallowing, I stood slowly, smoothed down my dress, and pasted my smile back on my face. “I’m sorry, Kostas. I had my music on,” I lied, pulling my earbuds out for show. My brother frowned, silent for a while, before he stepped into my room. He didn’t buy it. I'm sure he already knew I was avoiding him. “It’s the Spring Ball tonight. Mother prepared your dress and mask.” He sounded anxious. Uneasy. Why? I’d been attending for years, secretly at first, when I hid behind the curtains in the grand hall. When I turned fifteen, I was officially presented—fully masked—and finally allowed to accompany my parents and brother. Behind the anonymity of the masks, I gained a little freedom. “I know,” I said. “I'll be ready on time, you don't need to worry.” “Your birthday is in a few days. Are you feeling... anything?” “No,” I lied again. Did he see through that? His gaze didn’t linger on my face. Kostas sighed and walked over to my pile of textbooks. Even on such a day, my work had to be completed. “Everything I do is to protect you, Katerina,” he said, running his hands through his hair. “I know.” I just wasn’t sure anymore what they were protecting me from. “You didn't meet anyone you liked this week?” No. No stirrings of a true mate bond. They had all dumped me, the same as the ones who’d come before them. The same as the Carter boys. “No, but I’ll tell you the moment I like someone,” I said, smiling as I reached for his hand. “I'm sure I'll find my mate soon. Don't worry, Kostas.” “I would prefer it if we found him now. Before your wolf presents herself,” Kostas said. So that was the reason for the overkill with the dates? My birthday? Had I run out of time? Would they choose any wolf, rather than my true mate? Anyone would be forgiven to think some great calamity was going to fall on me if I didn’t get marked and mated before then. But what greater calamity was there than mating a wolf who would not respect my boundaries or look past the limitations of my wolf? “I’ll try,” I smiled, “but could we forget about that for tonight? Can we just have fun?” His smile returned, faint and wistful. “Sometimes I forget how young you are. Of course, Princess. Let your hair down tonight,” he said. “But be careful. Things outside our walls aren’t as settled as I’d want.” Kostas never talked about anything outside our walls. Could this be what had my family anxious? Lordswood was, after all, the largest pack in father’s kingdom, and our kingdom was the largest of the four. Our complex was like a city; we were self-sufficient. It wouldn’t be the first time another kingdom thought they could help themselves to what we had. Was I too arrogant to assume they were all anxious because of me? “Finish your homework. They’ll come to help you soon.” After he kissed my forehead, he left, and my burning questions remained unasked. I was almost afraid to hear the answers. An hour later, several maids came into my room, my new dress and accessories in tow. Usually, I loved this part, but this time, lead settled on the centre of my chest. I was too anxious. I didn’t care about the layers of sapphire silk, the delicate silver-threaded mask, or the jewels for my hair. My chest still hurt. But I didn’t dare ask the stupid questions. Did everyone attending the ball know about this saying? Did they all secretly laugh at me? I had no idea how I got from my dressing room to meet my parents at the top of the main staircase. “You look beautiful, Katerina,” Queen Maria said, taking my hands in hers. I couldn’t see her face behind her mask, only her red curls piled on top of her head, but tears shimmered in her green eyes just as they had all week. My head switched from my simmering fury to concern for her. But it switched back just as quickly when I remembered the Carters and all the other recent dates. They’d all been carefully selected by my mother’s own hand. “Thank you, Mother,” I smiled. “So do you.” Both my parents did. Father was a typical alpha, towering over all us, even Kostas. He looked more dignified with his blue royal mantle draped over his shoulders. “Don’t forget yourself tonight, darling. There are too many eyes watching.” Her words fed the dread that had been brewing in the pit of my stomach. All those eyes would indeed be on me, just as they had since I was presented. But would they be laughing behind their masks? “Yes, Mother.” “If you get into any trouble, return to your room. Kostas will take care of it,” Father said, his voice low but commanding. King Christos didn’t need to raise his tone to make people obey his command. His aura could silence armies; which was how he’d earned the right to rule all the packs in the north. I’d yet to meet anyone who was as strong as he was. Or as gentle. As if he’d known that he scared me, he gently patted my shoulder. This was why my parents wanted a true mate for me. So he could soothe me when I was in distress. So he could protect me. So he could keep me caged within these walls with the servants whispering behind my back. “Let’s go,” Father said softly. “Our guests are all here.” We descended together, my father leading, Kostas behind us. Perfect. Regal. I was sandwiched like the fragile princess I was. This was my life. Privileged. Beautiful. Like a colourful bird in a cage. My chest welled, almost unable to push this thought back down. Behind the mask, the smile was gone. I was a prisoner. I had to leave. The music swelled in the great hall, and couples twirled in the middle. But the colours blurred around me. I forgot all the things I loved about the Spring Ball as that decision echoed in my mind. Was I really doing this? I knew nothing beyond these walls. How would I survive? I left my mother’s side, picked a drink, and slipped away. I didn’t stop walking until I was in the main courtyard. Sighing, I drained the drink in one go and looked up at the sky. For years, I’d imagined what it would be like to walk out of the castle. To find myself so I could be my own person. I’d even planned every step of it. I already knew how to get the suppressants from the hospital and which clothes I’d pack. But I was not capable of anything else beyond that. I was not my own person. “If you sigh any louder, people might think I’m doing something inappropriate to you.” I froze. My breath hitched as I turned to the voice. He sat on one of the chairs along the wall, legs crossed, hidden in the shadows. A stranger, yet that voice sent a jolt down my spine. It was deep and velvety, the gentle chords almost pulling me in like a rope. Everything else faded into the background as I stepped closer to him. Who was he? There was something different about him. Something dangerous. I didn’t feel an alpha aura around him, yet I sensed his power. “There she is. I wonder if that’s her next date.” The familiar voices behind me pulled me back. Carter voices. The laughter that followed sent the fury crashing back into me. My hands clenched as I turned back inside. That was it. I was done. I was leaving. Chapter 4 HUNTER That scent. Molten amber, smoked vanilla, and something unexpected. Chocolate peppermint? It drifted closer, teasing my senses. Faint, missing the earthiness of a wolf, yet no less intoxicating. I dragged in a lungful before I could stop myself. But the woman turned from me in a swirl of silk, her chin high and back stiff as she stormed back towards the pretentious castle that the king of the north called home. Golden hair coiled like a crown caught the light, almost matching its brilliance to the jewels adorning it. I almost growled, the beast within me urging me to go after her. My grip tightened on the chair’s arms hard enough to hear the creak. This wasn’t why I was here. I had to focus. The laughter of some teenagers drifting back inside after the girl trickled past me. “I can’t believe they think anyone will want her,” a boy snorted. “Even with her dowry, she’s going to weaken any pack she bonds with.” Was that her? The elusive princess of Lordswood? The one paraded like livestock by that irreverent king? That kid was disrespectful, but he had a point. Her reputation was in ruins. No self-respecting man would sign up for this, whether he was a true mate or chosen. Sighing, I leaned back. With a flick of my fingers, Elijah stepped from the shadows, silent as ever, and handed me a file. The useless Lordswood shadow guards likely wouldn’t even know he’d been there. “You were right. He’s here,” my beta said. I didn’t need to open it. Of course I was right. Only a psychopath would dance beneath the king’s nose with a target on his back. But was he acting alone? That part wasn’t clear yet. The bastard was getting under my skin. I stood and passed him the file. “Should I follow you? They are watching you. It seems they’re expecting you.” “He won’t make a move tonight. He’s taunting me,” I growled, adjusting my suit. “And I don’t care if they’re watching me.” Who would dare move against me? “Will you take your turn with the princess?” My head snapped to Elijah as he vanished back into the shadows with a chuckle. My turn? The fact that King Christos even dared to put my name on that list was insulting. My mask was a gold skull, and possibly the most ridiculous thing I’d ever worn. Christos Lordswood had made such things mandatory since he presented his ‘precious’ daughter, and it was another kick in the balls. I’d ignored the invite for years for that reason. But this time, lives were at stake. But no one would believe that when they walked through to the grand hall. It was pure decadence. Gold, silver, and royal blues everywhere. Priceless ornaments and jewels displayed like trinkets. A live orchestra played trending renditions, while servers floated by with glasses of wine that most packs couldn’t afford in a lifetime. I’d bet the feast laid out was just as ostentatious. Christos had no respect for the suffering of others, and it seemed neither did the other alphas. They stood apart, surrounded by their own, the facade of unity glaringly obvious. The Spring Ball meant nothing when their egos filled the entire hall. Christos was the king of no one. They all liked to pretend I didn’t exist. Alpha Carter’s gaze flicked to me, and his pasty face turned paler. Smirking, I raised a flute to him, and the spineless alpha looked away. Sighing, I got back to work. Weaving through the guests, eyes and ears open, I caught nothing but useless conversations. No one would whisper about bloodshed within Christos’s polished walls. A flash of blue caught my eye, and I stopped moving. It was the princess no one wanted. She glided through the room, accepting the way the crowd parted for her as if it was her right, and stopped beside her brother, another unbearable prick. The Lordswood pack was full of them. “Are you alright?” Prince Kostas whispered. I caught his words even above the music and chatter. The princess nodded but didn’t speak. Still no voice. Her sighs had been soft and breathy, like the start of a moan. I shook that thought loose, but the curiosity didn’t let go of me. What did she sound like? Whiny? Arrogant? “Tell me when you have enough. We’ll head back, I can have dinner sent to your room,” Kostas said, resting his hand on the top of hers. My gaze narrowed at the protective way he touched her hand. They were siblings, right? Kostas had beaten the living shit out of anyone who breathed wrong around the fragile princess. Overkill, for sure, but what did I know? I didn’t have any siblings. “Did you meet anyone... special?” Kostas whispered. Oh. Was the ball another meat market? Another chance to find this elusive true mate? Shaking my head, I set down my drink and prepared to leave. There was nothing for me there. I was better off watching my suspects as they went. Masks concealed everything, and I had no scents to track. Then she spoke. “No. But I’d like to dance before I go back to my room.” Fuck me. The whispered words snapped my head back to the princess. I’d expected her voice to be soft and shy, but it was low and firm. Measured. Like honey dripping off a silver spoon. A contradiction. My beast reared up, focusing on the princess again. “There’s no one here worthy of a dance with you,” Kostas said. “Shall I have this honour?” No one worthy? Oh? Grinning, I stepped forward, ignoring the alphas and lunas who hadn’t bothered to greet me, until I stood in front of the siblings. “Your Highness,” I said with a bow, “may I have this dance?” The princess looked at her brother like she was waiting for his permission. Would the great Prince Kostas Lordswood let his baby sister dance with the devil? My aura was buried, but I had no doubt Kostas knew who I was. He knew everyone within a mile of his sister. Sure enough, when I met the prince’s gaze, there was enough ice in it to burn. And fear? His temple throbbed above the phantom mask covering half his face. Would he defy me? “Kostas?” the princess asked, pulling his focus. “It’s up to you, Katerina. I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to do.” She hesitated, and then the princess released her brother’s arm and held out her lace-covered hand. Kostas’s mouth twitched, and the air around him cracked with unrestrained power. Until Katerina whimpered and flinched. Of course. The fragile little omega. She couldn’t take any discomfort. Kostas smiled and masked his aura as he rubbed her back. “Go on,” he said gently. “Dance. I have some people to talk to.” Katerina half turned, as if she would follow her brother, but I caught her hand in mine. With her full mask, I couldn’t see her expression, but her body stiffened. The tempo of her heartbeat jumped. Blue eyes clashed with mine. Fire flared in her eyes briefly. Maybe it was a flash of light, because she lowered her head submissively and allowed me to lead. Like a good little omega. I almost snorted at my thoughts as I brought her to the centre of the room and turned to face her. And then that scent hit me again. Fuck. Why the hell had I allowed Kostas’ words to provoke me? I didn’t give a shit if the prince thought me unworthy. But there I was, drawing the princess closer, inhaling her scent like I would die without it. I didn’t miss the eyes on us. The orchestra played on, but the room went quiet. The dancefloor cleared, and just like that, it was just the two of us in the room. She was small. Fragile. Barely up to my chest, I could see the top of her head. My hand circled her waist, settling on her lower back, pulling her close. The beast almost purred. Why did she smell so good? Feel so good? Beneath the layers of her dress, the warmth of her body seeped into mine. The princess gasped and stepped back, head bowed. The music drifted to my ears again, reminding me of where I was. I was being inappropriate. Sullying the precious jewel of Lordswood. “Pardon me, Your Highness," I said, reclaiming her hand. This time, I kept a respectable distance. We moved through the steps, flowing seamlessly. Goddess, she fit perfectly in my arms. If I just leaned in, if I pressed my mouth to her neck and— No. My grip tightened on her lower back even as I tried to ease away from her. What the hell was this? She was unshifted. Too young. Inexperienced. Even though I was at least eight years older than her, I’d shifted way before my time. Besides, she was that fucker Lordswood’s spawn. The music changed, snapping my attention back to the room and the omega who still refused to meet my gaze. I didn’t want such a spineless woman in my bed. The packaging was beautiful; no one would doubt that. But the blood in her veins was rotten. “I suppose I can consider this my turn,” I said, my voice flat. The princess’s head snapped up. Blue fire spat at me, this time unmistakable. Her shoulders squared, and she clasped her hands in front of her. “Yes, please do. My brother was right, you are not worthy. Enjoy the ball, sir.” She turned and walked away like she ruled the realm. And fuck if that didn’t make my beast howl. Chapter 5 KAT I calmed my breathing before stepping into the family dining room. Mother and Father sat together, holding hands and laughing softly. Kostas stood at the window, wine glass in hand, eyes distant. He didn’t look like he belonged in the same scene. He was too still. Too serious. The moment Mother saw me, she rose with practised grace and opened her arms. “Darling, come here,” she said brightly. Kostas turned, the frown gone like it never existed. The three of them smiled as if they hadn’t seen the way the guests had avoided me at the ball. As if I hadn’t been the only royal they all pretended not to see. I returned Mother’s embrace, letting her subtle scent smother me. She wore an evening gown, dripping in crystals, despite it being a rest day. I’d gone simpler. No corset and no full face of make-up. Mother’s subtle frown at my dress didn’t need words. But I didn’t offer an explanation. It’s not like they’d ever given me one. “You were the belle of the ball last night,” Mother said, guiding me to a seat beside her. “I have a good feeling about your upcoming appointments.” My fingers twitched in my lap, but I kept the smile on my face. “Oh? Did you notice anything?” Father asked her before quickly turning his gaze to me. “Has your wolf shown herself, Katerina?” “Not yet,” I said, too quickly. “She doesn’t need her wolf now,” Mother said, brushing it off. “She’s so close to shifting, her true mate would have sensed her already. I wouldn’t be surprised if someone comes calling very soon.” My heart twisted. A true mate. The dream I was raised to chase. Yet... “You can’t be sure, Mother,” I said, sipping my wine. I was surprised my hand didn’t tremble. “We had the best of the best from all the territories under one roof. Of course I’m sure,” Mother said, placing her hand in mine. “Trust me on this.” For the first time in a long time, Mother wasn’t twitchy or close to tears. Could she really have sensed something? But no. She said the same thing about a dozen times a year. My happiness had depended on the queen’s fluctuating moods for as long as I could remember. We were always either ecstatic or disappointed. I was tired. “I trust you,” I lied with a soft smile, just as the servants arrived with dinner. Across the table, I met Kostas’ gaze. He hadn’t said a word since I came in. He hadn’t said anything since the man on the dancefloor had humiliated me in front of everyone. In front of all the ‘best of the best’ in the wolf territories. His turn, he’d said. That bastard was no different from Justin and his brothers. Kostas looked away from me and picked up his cutlery to start eating. “When your mate reveals himself, we’ll throw the grandest wedding,” Father beamed. “I’ll walk you down the aisle, just like I always dreamed. Kostas, have you finished overseeing the housing project? Every unit must be furnished.” My father spoke like it was a done deal. My true mate would live in the castle with me, and his pack would join ours. But what if he chose not to? What if he didn’t want my brother as their beta? My gaze drifted back to Kostas. He didn’t look at Father as he said, “Yes, everything is under control.” But Kostas was the smartest person I knew. Hadn’t this thought crossed his mind? Hadn’t it crossed any of their minds that no one would want to live with the joke of the kingdom? “Perfect,” Mother said, clasping her hands. “Our little butterfly will have everything.” I tuned them out after that. Mother’s endless plans for the wedding. Father’s constant tweaking of the security plans and living arrangements. I’d participated in the conversations enough times to know them by heart. By the time dessert plates were cleared and we moved to the lounge, I could barely keep my mask in place. My stomach twitched with nerves, and my pulse echoed in my ears. This was it. The last supper. Would I ever see my family again? Would they understand why I had to do this? Would they forgive me? How disappointed would they be when they learned that I didn’t want the life they had so carefully crafted for me? “Are you alright, Katerina?” I smiled at my brother over my book. “I am. But you seem tired, though.” Was he burning himself out again? When I left, who would remind him to take care of himself? “Things have just been a little hectic, but I’m fine.” Was he lying? “If it’s about my birthday, we don’t have to make a big deal of it. The Spring Ball was grand enough.” “Nonsense,” Father said. “It’s not every day a wolf turns eighteen.” As if triggered by my anxiety, my body started to betray me. My skin itched, nerves flaring under the surface like a thousand sparks. The lights pierced my eyes, and every sound stabbed into my skull. The world sharpened until I could make out the silver strands in my father’s blond hair. I could smell the blood in the steak we’d just eaten, still clinging to the air. And then it was gone. Cut off. Silent. “What will you do if this doesn’t work out?” I blurted. The room stilled. I watched that panic return in my mother’s gaze before she forced a smile. “You will find one, Katerina,” Father said, voice firm. “Even if I have to knock on every door on the planet.” I clenched my wine glass until my knuckles ached. I wanted to scream. To ask why this mattered more than how they let those boys treat me. How they let people whisper about me and turn me into a joke. Instead, I smiled, as if I were grateful, and sat in silence as the conversation returned to my birthday. When my parents decided to retire to their wing, I held on a little tighter than usual. Kissed their cheeks a little longer. Memorised their warmth. By the time Kostas walked me to the door, my cheeks were numb, and my tears were seconds from bursting out. “Rest well. Tomorrow will be busy,” Kostas said. “I will.” “That man you danced with last night,” Kostas started. My fists balled before I could stop myself. That grey-eyed bastard. I shoved my memories back quickly and composed myself. Now was not the time to remember how he held me. Or the way his scent messed with my head. “Did you feel anything? Did your wolf stir?” “Thankfully not,” I lied. “He was insufferable.” I couldn’t quite forget the way his scent tangled with something inside me. My brother exhaled, and I saw the tension drain from his body. Was that the reason he’d been so quiet all night? He never worried without a good reason, so my assessment of that man must have been right. He was just a scoundrel. Someone not good enough for me. Such a man would never be my mate. “If you ever meet him again, walk away,” Kostas said. Well, that was easy. I didn’t even know what he looked like. “I’ll never be in the same room as him,” I promised. Kostas paused, and I thought he might say more, but instead, he hugged me tight and pressed a kiss to my temple. “It will get better. I swear it,” he whispered before he released me. He didn’t linger after that, and my chest ached when I watched him walk away. My dear brother. Would he be okay? Dragging my feet, I walked into my room without bothering with the light and sank into my couch. The tears came, falling silently as they had done many times before. I sat for hours, unable to stop them, unable to stop the stabbing pain in my chest. When the castle finally fell asleep and the guards started their change of shift, I rose and crossed to the back of my dressing room. My bag was packed full of suppressants, and I’d swiped a change of clothes from the laundry room. There was nothing else left for me to do. There was nothing for me in this castle. In this kingdom. My only chance at freedom lay beyond the border, in the human world. With my steps light, I hid in the shadows until I slipped through the cracks of the life they built for me. I wasn’t their butterfly anymore. Chapter 6 KAT The mirror was cracked and too small to show much, but the green-eyed redhead woman staring back at me didn’t need a full reflection to know she looked damn good. Green eyes sparkled beneath the uneven bangs of my pixie cut and my smile was wide. I turned back to the mess behind me. Clothes piled on one side of the bed, textbooks and files on the other, and somewhere behind all that was my defunct kitchen. It didn’t matter. I was finally moving out of this shithole. Squealing, I plopped onto the clear patch of my single mattress and picked up my envelope for the hundredth time. My bonus. My big, fat, life-changing bonus. Eighty hours a week, blood, sweat, and tears for almost two years, and those higher-ups at the Bureau of Non-Human Affairs had finally noticed me. My name wasn’t on the case file, but I cracked their case. I was their fucking hero. I deserved this. Besides, I hadn’t worked so hard just to write my name down on some file. I’d done the impossible. Permanent hire before graduation? Done. Youngest recruit? Also done. All that homeschooling had come in handy after all. The smile faltered. My chest tightened. Tears threatened, but I shoved the thoughts away. Today was a good day. I was done surviving, I was ready to live. Grabbing my keys, bag, and helmet, I kicked dirty clothes out of the way and headed out. I guess I’d have to deal with the mess before I officially started work on Monday. I was down to my last office outfit. Or fuck it, I’d just buy new clothes. My laughter rang out in the hallway as I walked to the stairs. I was still laughing when I reached the basement parking lot. I’d buy enough clothes that I didn’t have to repeat the same outfits every week. An apartment with enough room to swing a cat. A double bed without a thin, lumpy mattress! Kat Munroe was moving up. “Looking good, Kitty Kat.” Rolling my eyes, I didn’t turn back as I secured my crossbody bag across and put my helmet on. Leather booty shorts, matching jacket, thigh-high boots, and a top that could pass for a bra. Not a corset in sight. “Where are we going tonight?” The voice sounded closer, so I had to look. I hadn’t made it this far by being stupid. Two guys, the usual suspects, walked out from behind two pillars like they were villains in a D-list movie. Long-haired jock types. The type of human trash the Bureau usually handed down to the local agencies. It was a pity they couldn’t handle humans themselves or I’d have turned them in for being assholes. “Todd. Sam,” I greeted with a nod. “Just going for some groceries. Why are you lurking in a dark basement?” The two delinquents grinned and came closer. “You promised we’d hang out, Kat,” Todd drawled. “You’re not going back on your word, are you?” “Forget your groceries,” Sam added. “We’ll feed you something better.” Creepy. Did that shit ever work on anyone? “Maybe tomorrow night,” I said, turning back to my bike and swinging my leg over it. The two were on either side of me before I could grip the throttle. “You keep brushing us off, Kitty Kat,” Todd said, grabbing the handlebars. “You think that will work forever?” My motorbike was my pride and joy. Gleaming red and black with polished chrome, and an engine that purred like a beast. I’d skipped meals and rent for her. How dare this bastard put his hand on her? “We promise you’ll enjoy it,” Sam added, grabbing the other handle. I’d had enough. Removing my helmet, I ran my fingers through my hair and then smiled at one and then the other. Television was a great thing. More educational than the mountains of books in my father’s library. In three years, I’d learned that using brute strength wasn’t the only way to win. But it sure did help. I swung my helmet and cracked it hard against Todd’s head. Then a punch to Sam’s ribs made him swear and stagger back. The engine roared to life beneath me, and I peeled out before the losers could react. My laughter echoed in the parking lot, rising with the growl of the engine. Three years ago, someone would have come out of the shadows to handle those two. But I wasn’t that girl anymore. I couldn’t be. I sliced through the Friday night traffic with that ache in my chest. As always, guilt tore at me. Had they stopped looking for me? Were they okay? Did they hate me? If I went back now, would they accept the new me? The bright lights of the city flashed around me as I parked my bike and took my helmet off. I couldn’t dwell on that. I was finally about to get the life I’d designed for myself. Now wasn’t the time to falter. Pulse stood like a beacon in downtown Greenville, with a line already forming at the wide doors. A crowd spilt onto the sidewalk, and I could already feel the thumping of the bass from outside. When it was my turn, I proudly took out my ID before they could ask me and grinned at the bouncers. Twenty-one. My birthday. In the human world, I was now old enough to drink. The bouncer looked between my ID and my face before he gave a low whistle. “Happy birthday, Kathrine Munroe.” “Damn right it is,” I said with a wink. The velvet rope lifted, and just like that, they let me into the heart of the beast. Bass, bodies, and neon lights hit me all at once. The air was electric, and energy pulsed through the air. It was chaos, and I loved every second of it. I threaded my way through the crowds towards the bar, my body swaying to the music. This was freedom. The opposite of every ball I’d ever attended. Except in one way. So many people, so much laughter, yet I was still very much alone. Finally leaning against the bar, I waited for the busy bartender to notice me before I slid a twenty across the counter. “Whiskey. Neat,” I shouted above the music before I leaned back on it to scan the club. As much as I loved the freedom to drink without restrictions, that wasn’t why I was there. I’d been too busy juggling my degree and my internship, and now I was about to get busier. This weekend was the only time I could let my hair down. The only time I could feel... something. Kostas would lose his shit if he knew. Instead of making me panic, a thrill shot down my spine. I was my own person. I could make my own choices. I scanned the room, my eyes skimming past the boys trying to be hard on the dancefloor, the men leering at the women from the walls, the ones being too loud, attention-seeking. Until my gaze stopped at him. He leaned against the far wall, half in the shadow, half under the flickering lights. Dark shirt unbuttoned just enough to hint at the muscles underneath, and pants tight enough to make my heart flutter. No loud colours like most of the men around him. No attention seeking. He didn’t blink often as he watched the crowd. He just stood still. Like he was waiting for something. Like he was hunting. My body lit up like I’d finally found the piece I’d been looking for. I picked up my whiskey and headed straight for him without hesitating. The closer I got, the more my body reacted to him. It had been so long since I’d felt anything remotely similar that I almost panicked. But I shoved those thoughts back. This had nothing to do with my beast. Those suppressants had worked for three years, and they would continue to do so. The man’s head snapped towards me, and fuck. I couldn’t stop the gasp. He was beautiful. Hair cropped short, stormy grey eyes smouldering, and a five o’clock shadow. Older than me, for sure. More experienced. I could tell by the way his gaze dipped slowly, dragging over me, before he met my eyes again. It felt like a caress. The heat that pooled in my stomach was instant. How did a man do that with just his eyes? I stopped in front of him and tossed back the rest of my drink. Liquid courage. “Seen something you like?” I purred. His mouth curved, just barely. “Maybe.” His voice was deep and smooth, and it struck something inside me. Had I heard it before? At work? Or in my lectures? I tilted my head to look up at him. I would have remembered if I’d ever met someone like him. Despite the chaos of the club around him, he remained composed. Restrained. If this weren’t a human club, I would have suspected he was something else. Was he hunting for a little something for the weekend, then? I was more than ready to be his prey. Stepping closer, letting my gaze eat him up like he’d done to me. Yes. Yes, he’d do. “Then what are you going to do about it?” I asked. “You tell me,” the man said. This was my cue. I’d studied all those smutty television shows just for this moment. “I’d like to buy you for the night.” His brow lifted slightly, and his mouth curved again. “You’re very blunt.” I shrugged. “It’s my birthday. I’m celebrating. If you’re not available, I can find someone else.” The little smirk fell off his face, and the air shifted. He stepped away from the wall slowly. Deliberately. I felt very much like his prey. My heart slammed against my chest when he stepped into the light. Goddess. He was even hotter up close. Sharp jawline, tall, broad shoulders. I felt his presence all around me. “And what exactly do you expect from me, birthday girl?” he drawled. My breath caught. Electric shocks zapped down my spine, and I almost stepped back. But this was what I wanted. “Surprise me,” I whispered. The man licked his lips. Then he reached for my empty glass and set it on a table next to us. “Come with me.” And I did. I followed the stranger through the crowd like I hadn’t watched hundreds of true-life documentaries about what could happen to me. Not because I was drunk. This wasn’t about rebellion. This was because, for the first time since I left home, I was going to do something I could never undo. I was going to give myself to someone other than my true mate.

"Get your fvcking hands off of her!" my husband hissed menacingly. "And you! Get in the fvcking car before you embarrass me more." My heart sank, and a lump formed in my throat. I didn't want to fight on our wedding night - It's okay, he's just drunk. This isn't my Isaac, I reminded myself. My brother's best friends, King, Niko, and Mason, stepped forward, easily towering over Isaac. They were around 6'2" and twice his weight, the difference being their taut muscles. "If you hurt her we'll rearrange your face," King warned, his voice dangerously low. We grew up together, and I knew they would be protective of me just like my brother. "Isaac, please stop. Not on our wedding night," I pleaded. "Let's go, let's go," I muttered soothingly, dragging Isaac to the car. Isaac extended his hand to me. His grip was firm, possessive. I knew he loved me. But little did I know, his kind of love would break me bit by bit until there was nothing left. *Three years later* "My brother won't answer his phone. Please. I need your help...me and my daughter." "Kitten, you came to us for help. We will surely beat Isaac's aas and give you protection. But now we are claiming you as ours..." "I hate you," I said between clenched teeth. "I hate you," he mocked, mimicking my voice. "Hate me with this d1ck in you." With that, they ripped through me. ***** "Congratulations, Alyssa. I hope you and Isaac are very happy together," Mom says, her voice tender with emotion as she pulls me into a tight embrace. "Thanks, Mom." I return the hug, firm yet gentle, afraid that if I let her go too soon, she might fall. She's too sick to be standing this long, but she's always been strong—stubborn to a fault. She'd never let anyone here see how unwell she really is. When I finally release her, Gray, my ever-watchful brother, steps in, taking her arm to help her into a chair. "Grayson, I can seat myself," she protests, a teasing defiance in her eyes as she throws him a mock glare. He smiles warmly. "I know you can, Mom," he murmurs, planting a kiss to her forehead before turning to me. His expression darkens slightly. "If your husband ever hurts you, I'll shove my foot so far up his ass he’ll taste it." By the tone in his voice, I know he means every word. But he doesn’t need to worry about that. I laugh, leaning in to kiss his cheek. "No need to be so scary, big brother. Isaac would never hurt me. He loves me too much," I say with confidence, my heart swelling with affection for my high school sweetheart turned husband. Despite the challenges we've faced, I know he’s my soulmate. He’s proven his love for me over and over again. When he asked me to marry him at Senior Prom, I was the happiest woman alive. And now, here we are, husband and wife. I've officially claimed the title—Mrs. Isaac Carter. As the time to leave for our honeymoon in Cancun approaches, I say goodbye to our guests. Most of MoonShadow Creek showed up, but honestly, I only cared that my mom, Gray, and my two best friends, Chelsea and Ashley, were here. "Have a great time!" Chelsea says, squeezing me tightly. She always smells sweet, like berries. I assume it’s whatever shampoo she uses to keep her blonde hair looking so perfect, but it could just be her personality—vibrant, sugary, effortlessly bright. I hug Ashley next, her hazelnut skin glowing beneath the bright lights. "Make sure you send me some pics. I need to get a boo before next summer so we can go on a group vacation," she quips, her excitement contagious. "Will do," I promise with a laugh, already looking forward to sharing the memories of our honeymoon with my best friends. Seeing that Isaac is still saying goodbye to his parents, I step outside for a moment of solitude, inhaling the cool night air. The stars twinkle above, casting a magical glow over what has been a perfect wedding day. I lean against Isaac’s car, taking it all in. Then, movement in my peripheral catches my attention. A girl stumbles out from behind the bushes, hurriedly smoothing down her dress and fixing her hair. "Hey, Alyssa," she says breathlessly, cheeks flushed, before rushing back into the house. A second later, a guy follows—lazily zipping up his slacks. King Sterling. One of my brother's three best friends. He’s tall, built like a brawler, with dark, unruly curls that fall to his shoulders and a medium beard framing his sharp jaw. A scar cuts across his left eye, a reminder of the violence he thrives in. His amber eyes—piercing, predatory—have a way of sending even the bravest men running. And the fact that he’s in a motorcycle gang? Just the icing on the cake. When his gaze locks onto mine, a slow smirk stretches across his face. I grimace. "You couldn't have taken her home first?" I ask, making no effort to hide the disgust in my tone. Seriously, why does he have to screw people in the bushes at my damn wedding? "That's no fun. Besides, I would've missed the hilarious look on your face right now," he teases, his deep, gravelly voice laced with amusement. He steps closer, leaning casually against the car before taking a slow drag of his cigarette. "Want a puff?" he asks, holding it out to me. I cough and wave it away. "No, that's disgusting," I retort. "You shouldn't be smoking those things anyway. You're gonna end up with cancer, dumbass." King exhales a cloud of smoke, then chuckles, low and rough. The sound sends an involuntary shiver down my spine. "Always holier than thou,” he muses. “Tell me, Alyssa…has he popped your cherry yet, or are you still ripe for the taking?" Heat floods my cheeks. My embarrassment only makes his smirk widen. "N-No,” I stammer. “I know you wouldn’t know anything about that, but Isaac’s actually a gentleman and he wanted to wait until we were married first.” King tilts his head, his smirk turning downright wicked. “Well, isn’t he Mr. Prince Charming?” His voice drips with mockery. “When he can’t get you off with his little dick, I give you permission to fantasize about me instead.” "Thanks, but no thanks. That would only make me throw up," I snap back. He, Nikolai, and Mason have been an unwanted part of my life since I was twelve. Unbeknownst to my brother, his best friends have spent years tormenting me behind his back. But high school? That was the worst. I was a freshman, and they were seniors, always towering over me, always finding any possible opportunity to make my life hell. The only reason they’re here now is because Gray insisted. According to him, they’re family and deserve to be treated as such. But I hate them. All of them. King just grins at my reaction, clearly enjoying himself. "When shit doesn't work out between you and Isaac, just know you can call me anytime.” I glare at him, my anger flaring. "Why wouldn't things work out? I love my husband, and he loves me." The rest, we can figure out as we go. King takes another puff, exhaling slowly. "I don't know. Something's just off about him. But if Gray approves, I guess we should too." I snort. "Says the violent man in a motorcycle gang. If anyone's off, it's you." King is the kind of man that gets off on bloodshed. Beating someone's ass or cutting out an eyeball with a switchblade is his idea of a good time. In Gray's gang—The Crimson Reapers—King is known as the Enforcer. I'm pretty sure he has more bodies than a serial killer, but since they keep our small town safe, nobody dares to say a word about the crimes they commit. King just chuckles. "Nah, Kitten, I'm violent because I have to be. Your pathetic-ass husband seeks out trouble.” What the hell does that mean? I wonder, but I decide to leave it alone. This is my wedding night, and I won't let him, or anyone else, ruin it. "What's wrong, Kitten? Am I getting you riled up?" he taunts. I turn away, willing myself to stay calm. He knows I hate that fucking nickname, but he hasn't stopped using it since he realized it got under my skin. "I told you to stop calling me that," I mutter, trying to keep my voice steady. "And I told you that I’d never stop calling you that." I grind my teeth, irritation burning in my chest. "You're such a dick. Why is that my nickname anyway?" He shrugs. "Because you always have your claws out, but when it's time to scratch and bite, you're practically harmless." A bitter laugh bubbles from my lips. "Fuck you. I could claw your damn eyes if I wanted to." "Sure, you can, Kitten.” His smirk widens. "But just in case those claws don't sink deep enough…you can always call on me, Niko, and Mace if you're in trouble." Why does he keep saying that? I don't need them. I never have. Not even when my dad was murdered. I’ve always had my own back, wiped my own tears—and that won’t ever change. No matter what. Before I can snap at him again, a new voice cuts in. "He's right, Sweet Girl. You can call us if you ever need us," Nikolai says, emerging from the house. Mason follows close behind. Oh, great. All three dumbasses are here. Chapter 2 Alyssa Niko isn't as big of an asshole as King, but he still makes it his mission to piss me off. He's a little smaller and less muscular than King, with spiky, dirty blonde hair and blue eyes. Mason, on the other hand, is of medium height with a slender frame. He's a redhead with tapered hair, green eyes, and thick-rimmed glasses. Out of the three, he’s probably the chillest, never wanting to get his hands dirty. But just because he’s associated with them, it’s only fair that I hate him too. I roll my eyes. "Fantastic, just what I needed—the full set of my brother's annoying-ass friends." Niko chuckles, his voice laced with amusement. "So mean for no reason, Alyssa. We're just looking out for you, sis." "If you were looking out for me, you wouldn't be tormenting me all the damn time," I retort, crossing my arms as I glare at them. King takes another drag of his cigarette, his intense stare never leaving me. "It's our way of showing affection, Kitten. You know you love it." No. I. Don't. Niko throws an arm over my shoulder, and I stiffen at the unwelcome contact. "Like I said, I'm good. Nobody needs to worry about me, especially Gray. Isaac is my husband. He will take care of me.” "Are you ready to go, Alyssa?" Isaac's voice cuts through the tension as he strides across the lawn toward us. Relief washes over me. Finally, he's here to rescue me from my tormentors. His gaze shifts between the three men surrounding me, a shadow crossing his face when he notices Niko's arm casually draped over my shoulder. "What are you guys doing out here with my wife? Get your fucking hands off her!" His voice is loud and humiliating, drawing the attention of the few remaining guests outside. I quickly create distance between me and the boys, rushing over to Isaac and placing a calming hand on his chest. "It's okay, Isaac. They were just saying goodbye," I whisper, hoping to diffuse the situation before it escalates further. I can already tell he's had too much to drink. His breath reeks of alcohol, and his eyes have that hard, unfocused look. Fuck. He’s going to start a fight. "Do you want my friends and family to think you're a whore?” Isaac snarls, his voice venomous. "Get in the fucking car before you embarrass me more!” Shame washes over me, thick and suffocating, even though I know I did nothing wrong. My heart sinks, and a lump forms in my throat. I don’t want to fight on our wedding night. I just want to go back to the happiness we were having minutes ago. "But what about everyone seeing us off?" I ask in a tiny voice, my eyes flickering back to my mother’s house where our guests are still celebrating. "I'm too pissed off for that. We're leaving. Now.” His tone is sharp, leaving no room for argument. He grabs my arm, his fingers digging painfully into my skin, and I wince. It's okay, he's just drunk. This isn't my Isaac, I tell myself. But when I glance up at King, Niko, and Mason, their expressions have darkened—tensed into something deadly. King’s perpetual smirk is gone, replaced by a look that could kill. Even Mason, usually unbothered, has a jagged edge to his posture. Niko steps forward, his eyes flashing. "Alyssa, I don't think we’re okay letting you leave with him,” Niko says, his voice dangerously low. “For him to think it's okay to speak to you that way…I think King and I should break his goddamn jaw." Oh, no. "Who the fuck are you to tell my wife who she can't leave with? Stay in your goddamn place, freak," Isaac seethes, yanking me towards the car. "Be careful how you fucking speak to him," King warns, his voice eerily calm. Isaac snorts. “Or what?” Okay. The alcohol has clearly given him a false sense of confidence. Too damn much of it. With King alone, he wouldn’t stand a chance. King takes a step forward, towering over my husband like a shadow of death. At 6’2” and pure muscle, he makes Isaac look like a scrawny child. And I hate to say that about my own husband. "Or I'll have you eating out of a tube for the next six months.” It’s not a threat. It’s a promise. I quickly step between them, pressing a hand against Isaac’s chest. “Isaac, please stop. Not on our wedding night,” I beg, tears welling in my eyes. The tension is palpable, thickening the once-peaceful air around us. Is he really going to keep pushing this? Does he not realize that if my brother comes outside and sees this, he’ll join them in beating his ass? Isaac's face twists in rage and humiliation. "Are you really taking their side right now?" he yells, his voice slicing through the night. "She's actually trying to stop you from getting your ass beat, dude," Mace finally speaks, irritation flaring in his usually calm voice. His forest green eyes burn with restrained anger. "I wasn’t talking to you. I was talking to her!" Isaac roars, redirecting his fury toward me. I don’t flinch. Instead, I lock eyes with him, desperate to reach the man I know is somewhere hidden beneath this raging monster. "Please, can we just go?" My voice trembles, betraying my fear. His nostrils flare as he glares down at me. "Fine. But I don't want to ever see you near these assholes again. Understood?" I nod quickly, eager to calm him before he spirals further out of control. This reminds me of the Championship football game our junior year, where he got into a huge fight with the other team's captain. But this time, the stakes are higher. King and Niko will kill him, while Mason watches. The last thing I want today is to watch my husband die right in front of me. "Let's go," I murmur, pulling Isaac towards the car. I don’t look back, but I can feel their eyes burning into me as I slide into the passenger seat. Even when we drive off, Isaac speeding recklessly through the streets, I keep my head down, staring at my trembling hands. The silence in the car is suffocating, heavy with unspoken rage and tension. At a stoplight, I finally look up—just in time to see Isaac’s hand collide with my cheek. The sharp sting makes me gasp. "Don't ever do something like that again!” he snarls in my face. “You made me look weak out there. I could've taken those fuckers easily.” A quiet, desperate sob escapes me. He...hit me. He actually hit me. And on our wedding night. I consider jumping right out of the car. But then, the scene replays in my head. It was my fault. I know how possessive Isaac can be. I shouldn't have been out there with my brother's friends, even if it was unintentional. The moment I saw King, I should've gone back inside. "I-I'm sorry, Isaac," I whisper, my voice barely audible over the engine. "You should be," he answers calmly, his breathing steadying. "I didn't mean to hit you, but if we're going to make this marriage work, you have to stop making me angry, okay?" I nod, my cheek throbbing. "Okay." I mean…I want to make our marriage work. My father was a dangerous man, but my mom was still happy. Still in love. That’s what I want. A happy marriage. I pushed Isaac over the edge tonight. But from now on, I'll do better—I’ll be more careful. Then, everything will be okay. Isaac extends his hand, and even though my face still stings, I place mine in his. His grip is firm, possessive. "I love you," he murmurs. "I love you too," I respond, forcing a smile. But little did I know his kind of love would break me bit by bit until there was nothing left. Chapter 3 Three years later Alyssa "Open this fucking door, Alyssa!" Isaac’s furious voice echoes through the house as he pounds on the bedroom door, each blow rattling the hinges. My heart hammers against my ribs as I scoop Zuri from her crib, slipping a tiny pair of noise-canceling headphones over her delicate ears. "Mommy's going to get us out of here, sweetheart. Just hold on," I whisper, my voice trembling as I press my cheek to hers, drawing comfort from her warmth. I warned him. I warned him that if he ever hit me in front of our daughter, it would be over. But he didn’t listen. Tonight, he hit me so hard that I almost fell on top of Zuri while she was sitting on the floor. That was the last fucking straw. I’ve endured his rage, his fists, his endless excuses for three years. But I won’t allow Zuri to grow up thinking this is okay. She’s only seven months old—too young to remember this night—but I will not let her first memories include watching her father raise his hand at me. I'm sorry, babe. I promise it will never happen again. I brought you some flowers, Tylenol, and an ice pack. I love you. What will our daughter think if you take her away from her father who loves her? If you leave me, there's nowhere you can hide that I won’t find you. I swear, I'll kill all of us. I'm so tired of the empty apologies. The love bombing. The cycle of violence and remorse, over and over and fucking over again. Zuri deserves better. I deserve better. Isaac continues to slam his fists into the door, the sound splitting through the room like a gunshot. "I swear to God, Alyssa. Open this goddamn door, or I'll make sure you won't be able to walk for a week!" His voice rises, his hits hard, angrier. I hear the wood splinter, the lock groaning under his assault. I have seconds. My pulse drums in my ear as I sling a diaper bag over my shoulder—the only bag I packed, stuffed with everything Isaac didn’t buy me. With one final glance at the door, I yank the window open. The house is only one story. The drop isn’t far. Clutching Zuri tightly to my chest, I climb out and run. I sprint across the yard, moving so fast my feet barely touch the ground. The spare key in my pocket feels like a lead weight as I round the corner, heading straight for my car. I fumble with the key, my hands trembling, shoving it into the lock. Yanking the door open, I climb in the front seat, locking the door behind me. I frantically scramble to the back seat, strapping Zuri into her car seat. Her hazel eyes blink up at me, filled with innocent wonder—completely unaware of the danger closing in on us. "I'm sorry to wake you, my sweet girl. We're going to go visit Uncle Gray for a little while," I whisper, forcing a shaky smile as I make sure her buckles are secure. None of my family or friends know about Zuri. They don't even know I was ever pregnant. I haven’t spoken to anyone since she was born. Isaac made sure of that—isolating me from everyone I loved, drilling into my head that I was nothing without him. And maybe I'm not. But I promise to whoever created this fucked up world—if I make it out of here alive tonight, I will be better. I will be the mother Zuri deserves. I slide back into the driver’s seat, my hands still shaking as I shove the key into the ignition. The engine roars to life. A sudden, bloody fist slams against the window. I jump, gasping as Isaac’s furious face appears, his blue eyes wild with rage. "I'll kill you, Alyssa! I'll kill you and bury your ass in the fucking backyard!” he roars. He'll actually do it. This is the angriest I've ever seen him, and I know he'll take it too far this time. I'll be dead, and there'll be no one to stop him from doing the same to our daughter. Zuri wails, her tiny cries cutting through the chaos. Each pound of his fists reverberates through the car, sending fear and apprehension coursing through me. No. We have to leave. Now. I grip the steering wheel tightly, my knuckles white. "Move, Isaac!" I scream. "Or I swear to God, I will run you over!” He doesn't budge. His chest heaves as he continues to hammer away at the glass, his eyes daring me to follow through on my threat. I slam the gas pedal, the car lurching backward. At the last second, he jumps away, his feet barely avoiding my tires. Then I speed off, leaving our current life behind once and for all. I drive for miles, my vision blurred with tears, my hands shaking violently against the wheel. Zuri is finally asleep, but I know we’re not safe yet. Isaac is probably tracking my car right now, and if I don’t ditch it soon, he’ll find us. Pulling over to the side of the road, I gasp for air, my chest tight with panic. I dig through my bag, yanking out my phone. Isaac has always tracked me—even when I just ran to the store. If I was even two minutes late, he’d revoke my driving privileges for the month. I try to call Gray, but it goes straight to voicemail. I try again. And again. Finally, I leave a voicemail, trying to keep my voice as steady as possible. “Gray, please call me when you get this.” I glance back at Zuri, still sleeping peacefully. "We're going to be okay," I whisper, more to myself than her. "I'll keep us safe." But what the hell am I going to do? I'm running out of time. Isaac will find us and drag us back to that hellhole. If I go to the police, it won’t matter. I’ve done it once before, and they sent me right back to him. Of course, money was involved. I know if I report him again, he’ll kill me this time. Another name comes to mind—someone I never thought I’d have to speak to again in my life. But I know he’ll help me. I hesitate before dialing the number, hoping to God it hasn’t changed. There are only a few people that have his personal number. But for some reason, he gave it to me a few months after I started dating Isaac. He picks up on the first ring. I don’t even wait for him to speak first. "King, Gray won't answer his phone. Please. I need your help." Chapter 4 King I never thought Alyssa Bennett would reach out to me. For her to be that desperate, I guess she finally got tired of her piece-of-shit husband. It's been a while since I've driven anything other than my bike, but when she called, I pulled my truck from its resting place in the garage. Now, I park behind the red car on the side of the road, the sun starting to dip behind the horizon. I watch as Alyssa jumps out of the driver’s seat and rushes to the rear. First, she grabs a diaper bag. Then—a car seat. I squint, making sure I’m seeing this right. Yeah. It's a fucking car seat. Stepping out of my truck, I walk over, offering to grab her bag. She ignores me, securing the car seat into my backseat with the practiced ease of someone who’s done this a million times before. I didn't know what to expect when she called me. But a real baby—dressed in a pink onesie and making weird little noises—wasn't it. Maybe she’s babysitting this kid or something, I wonder silently. It's been three years since I last saw Alyssa, and she's changed. I'm not sure if it's for the better or worse. She looks worn the fuck out—like she's been fighting for her life. And I have a gut feeling she has been. She's wearing a black hoodie and jeans, her dark curls pulled into a messy bun, strands escaping to frame her face. Dark circles linger beneath her hazel eyes. And if I weren’t the observant son of a bitch I am, I wouldn’t have noticed the poorly concealed bruises on her cheeks—makeup barely covering the purple blotches underneath. The sight boils my blood. I shouldn’t have listened to Gray. We could’ve saved her a long time ago. I don’t give a fuck if she didn’t come willingly—I would’ve killed that motherfucker and brought her back home. Alyssa jumps into the front seat and quickly buckles herself in. Her knee bounces nervously, and she gnaws on her lip as I climb back into my seat. "Can we leave already?" she asks, her voice tight with tension. I eye her car one more time. "Any reason we're abandoning your car on the side of the road?" I ask, arching a brow. If I push just enough, will she be honest about what the fuck is going on? I mean, we could always make a pit stop by her house and deal with the problem. Been a few days since I've had my fill of violence anyway. "It's dead," she answers, but there's a hint of anxiety in her tone that I don't miss. "I’ve got some jumper cables in the back-” "The engine is dead, not the battery," she interrupts, her words rushed. Yeah, she's lying her ass off. "Want me to call a tow truck?" I ask, watching her carefully. "N-No, it's okay. Isaac says he’ll pick it up when he gets back home," she stammers. "Wanna call him and make sure?" "No.” Her desperation is becoming obvious now, but she’s trying to keep her calm demeanor. I smirk at the effort. "Have somewhere to be, Kitten?" She doesn't answer, just looks at me with those pleading hazel eyes. Usually, I’d milk this moment for all it’s worth—I’ve always enjoyed fucking with her—but I’ll save it for later. When she’s safely in my home. Pulling back onto the highway, I glance at her before my eyes flick to the car seat in the back. I clear my throat. "So, who's the kid?" "Zuri," she murmurs. "And she's-" "My daughter." Interesting. I don't recall Gray ever mentioning she had a kid. Actually, I don’t think he’s spoken to her in months. Even before that, they barely talked—once a month, maybe, and she was always ready to get off the phone after five minutes. Gray, you dumb fuck. That should've been the biggest fucking red flag he needed right there. "How old is she?" "Seven months." I hate little crotch goblins—never imagined myself having one—but jealousy and anger still boil under the surface. Isaac Carter was the first man to fuck her, to breed her. Lucky motherfucker. That was supposed to be me. But Niko and I made a pact years ago: since we both liked her, neither of us could have her. "She looks like you. Got your curls." Alyssa smiles weakly. "Yeah, she does." As we drive, I notice how her eyes keep flickering to the side mirrors, scanning for any signs of her husband following us. The tension in her shoulders eases slightly the farther we get from her abandoned car. Finally, she shifts her gaze to me—where it belongs. "So, where's Gray? I'm surprised he hasn't called me back yet." I grunt. "Haven't seen him much lately. But you know how it is with the club—always something going on. I'm sure he'll call you back soon." Right now, my brother has his own shit going on. But when he texts me to go handle someone, I do it without question. That's my job, and I enjoy the fuck out of it. Alyssa snorts. "I think you mispronounced 'gang'. Let's be for real, it's a gang." I pick up on the disdain in her tone, but she has no fucking idea why we do what we do. Gray wanted to keep her a clueless little kitten. And I never had the time or fucking energy to argue with him about it. Until now. As a matter of fact, I think the topic will be coming up real soon. "Can we actually stop at Target really quick? I need a few things," Alyssa asks, that nervousness creeping back into her voice. "Sure." I pull into the nearest Target, parking halfway down the lot since it's always so goddamn packed. Alyssa quickly hops out, but before she can close the door, I call out, "I think you forgot something." She furrows her brows. "What?" I point to the car seat, my gut twisting with unease. "You're leaving the kid here?" "Yeah, Zuri's asleep.” I stare at her. “You’re really leaving the kid here?” "I'll be quick. You'd be surprised how long she can sleep through things.” I watch as she rushes inside, leaving me alone with the crotch goblin I have no fucking idea what to do with. Barely five minutes pass before Zuri starts crying. Fuck. Maybe she’ll cry herself back to sleep. But the cries quickly become louder, more demanding. Goddammit. Fine. I reach into the back, struggling with the straps before awkwardly pulling her out. The moment she’s in my arms, she stops crying. God, I hate this. Why didn't she just take her with her? I glance down at the kid. Hazel eyes. Same as Alyssa’s. Unfortunately, there’s some of Isaac's DNA mixed in there too. Her tiny fingers grab my shirt, and I feel a pang of something in my chest. Maybe it's that big ass burger I ate earlier clogging my arteries. Whatever it is, I shove it right the fuck down and scan the lot for any immediate danger. A coo grabs my attention again, and I frown down at her. "Look, kid. We can be cool, but don't get in my way. Me and your mother have unfinished business to take care of tonight.” She babbles. "Good. Glad we understand each other." Chapter 5 Alyssa Leaving Zuri in the car with King wasn't my first choice, but I have a lot of shit to get and so little time. The diaper bag could only hold so much, but I stuffed what I could in it before I left. Now, I need to get the rest of her necessities that will at least last a little while. Isaac will freeze my accounts soon, and I'll be cut off from any money. I can't even check the app because I ditched my phone in the car to avoid being tracked. I dash through the aisles, grabbing a travel crib, two boxes of diapers and wipes, a variety of pouched baby food, and a few cans of formula. My heart thunders in my chest as I make my way to the register. Thanks to Isaac, I know how to grab what I need and carry my ass. I tap my card against the reader, praying it works. It declines. A wave of anxiety and dread crash over me. Fuck. He has already frozen them. Panic sets in. What the fuck am I going to do now? "Ma'am, do you have money to pay? If not, I can hold the items for you," the cashier says politely, her eyes showing a mixture of sympathy and impatience. There's a line starting to form behind me. I run my fingers through my hair. "Uh, no. Just forget it, I'll find another-" "I've got it," a deep voice rumbles from right behind me. I turn around, my heart skipping a beat. There stands King, holding Zuri in his arms. He looks almost ridiculous with her—my sixteen-pound baby in the arms of a giant, terrifying man clad in biker gear. 'W-What are you doing in here?" I whisper to him in horror. His jaw tenses, but his eyes remain calm. "She pissed all over me, and I didn't know what to do." I'm surprised he even took her out of the car seat, let alone brought her inside. "Take her," he orders, passing her to me without waiting for my response. He taps a card on the reader, and the cashier smiles, her cheeks turning a shade of pink. "Hubby to the rescue, I see," she says with a flustered laugh, her eyes flickering between King and me. I bet she's trying to figure out how someone like him is here with someone like me. Caught off guard by her assumption, I feel my own cheeks heat with embarrassment. "H-He's not..." I start to correct her, but King's amused smirk stops me mid-sentence. Rolling my eyes, I turn back to the cashier. "Never mind. Thank you." With Zuri's onesie soaked and a sense of urgency pressing down on me, I tell King that I'll change her in the bathroom and meet him in the car. His response shocks the shit out of me. "Absolutely not, Kitten. Go change her, and I'll wait out here with the cart," King insists firmly, his tone brooking no argument. My eyes widen in disbelief. Did King die and get replaced with an actual decent human being? I'm not used to this. Isaac never went into the store with me. I always had to juggle everything alone. That included my pregnancy, post-partum, and raising her. It seemed like his only focus was running his father's business and controlling me. "Uh, thanks," I mutter, still processing King's unexpected kindness. "What about your shirt?" I gesture towards the noticeable wet spot concealed beneath his leather jacket. He shakes his head. "It's fine. We're almost home, anyway." As I head into the bathroom, my mind whirls with questions. While I mindlessly change Zuri's diaper and outfit, I dissect every interaction with King, trying to decipher his intentions. Has he really changed that much in three years? Even when Zuri peed on him, he didn't react the way I expected. It's suspicious, unnerving, and I can't shake the feeling that it's all a facade. I feel like it's only a matter of time before he says 'sike' and goes back to being a giant asshole. But for now, as long as he's willing to keep me and Zuri safe until Gray comes to pick us up, I can handle anything he throws at me. After all, I survived him and the rest of Gray's dumbass friends in high school. I'll survive this too. Coming out of the bathroom, I find King leaning against the wall, his hands casually tucked into his pockets. "Have any trouble in there?" he teases with a wicked smirk that sends my heart racing. I shake off the strange feeling before it gets the chance to fester. I force a laugh. "I had to wrestle her like an alligator, but the little strap on the changing table helps a little." We walk out of the store, side by side, and I keep glancing at King, his stoic expression betraying nothing. What is he planning in that little fucked-up head of his? Returning Zuri to her seat, I watch as King loads my purchases into the back of the truck. This feels oddly...domestic—going to Target with a giant, psychotic, dangerous man in a biker gang. Once he climbs back into the driver seat, the truck silently rumbles to life, and we start heading towards his house. The closer we get, the more anxiety creeps over me. I know where he lives, but I've never stepped foot inside his place. Frankly, I never wanted to. "I can feel your brain buzzing from here. Don't worry, you can leave any time you want. I don't plan on holding you hostage," he says, the corner of his mouth curling. "I'm not worried about that," I lie, crossing my arms. I wish he'd stop acting like he can read me. He doesn't know shit about me, except that I'm Gray's little sister and I hate his guts. He responds with an infuriating "mhmm," his eyes still glued to the road. Once we pull into the driveway, he tells me to stay inside while he brings all of the stuff in. Then, he pulls out Zuri's car seat from the backseat and carries her inside. What the fuck is really going on? I follow behind him, recalling the disgust on his face when he first saw Zuri. And now he's carrying her. Yeah, something's up, and I'm determined to find out what it is. As we step inside, my mouth drops open. His place is amazing, like the ideal bachelor pad. It's two stories with natural light pouring in from all of the spotless windows, casting a warm, inviting glow over the space. I was worried I would have to do some major babyproofing tonight, but besides a few sleek, modern couches, the massive flat-screen TV and expensive looking art pieces are on the wall, way out of reach. His maids must do an amazing job, there isn't a speck of dust in sight. I'll have to make sure to clean up after Zuri the second she makes a mess, though. This is his space, and he's graciously allowing us to stay here for whatever reason. I want to make sure to show my gratitude, despite the feeling I think he's up to something. "Uh, are you sure you want us to stay here until Gray comes to get us?" I ask in a low voice, still glancing around his mini palace. As he begins heading up the stairs, he looks over his shoulder. "You called me for help, didn't you? What kind of man would I be if I didn't make sure you were safe until he could take over?" The same asshole I grew up with, I want to answer, but I bite my tongue. He smirks and disappears upstairs. While I assume he's showering, I lay out Zuri's blanket and set her down on it as I give her a pouch of pureed chicken and peas and carrots. As disgusting as it sounds, she happily sucks it down, her tiny hands gripping the pouch as if someone might steal it. As she eats, I assemble the travel crib. Even though this is a new, unfamiliar environment, I hope she passes out after she eats, like she usually does. I need some time to think about our future. We can't live with Gray forever. I know Isaac will eventually finds us, and try to take Zuri away from me, if he doesn't kill me first. We're not safe here in Moonshadow Creek. I smile as I watch her. "I told you Mommy would get us out of there. I just need to figure out where to go from here," I murmur, more to myself than her. Right now, my top priority is keeping Zuri safe while I find a way to start fresh, where nobody will ever be able to find us again. Chapter 6 TW: Sexual coercion Alyssa After Zuri falls asleep, I place her in the new crib that I moved to King's office. It's peaceful and calm in there, and I didn't want to wake her if Gray happens to call in the middle of the night. I doubt I'll be going to sleep any time soon anyway, there's too much on my mind. King finally emerges from upstairs into the living room, dressed in a black t-shirt that clings too tightly to his muscular frame and a pair of loose, grey sweatpants. His steps are nearly silent on the wooden floor as he makes his way to the kitchen. I hear a cabinet open and the soft clinking of glasses. Moments later, he reappears with two glasses filled with dark, amber liquid. King silently hands me one of the glasses, his fingers brushing mine briefly before he settles into the armchair opposite me. I bring the glass to my nose and sniff: whisky. It's been a long time since I've tasted alcohol and I definitely need some after what happened today, so I take a tentative sip. The liquid sears its way down my throat, but it's a welcoming burn. King takes a slow, measured sip from his glass, his intense amber eyes never leaving mine. "Tell me, Kitten," he begins, his voice low and probing. "Why did your card decline? I know you—you're the type to check your balance fifty times before even thinking about going into a store. And let's not forget, your husband is a fucking lawyer with wealthy parents. You're gonna tell me you've blown through your monthly allowance already?" I laugh nervously, the sound awkward in the quiet room. "Yeah, I guess having a kid changed that. Mom brain, I guess. I think my card was just locked." He tilts his head slightly, his eyes narrowing as he studies me. "And where was your phone? You could have easily unlocked it." "I left it in the car," I reply quickly, my heart beginning to race. "If it's about me paying you back, I can-" He growls, the sound raising goosebumps along my spine. "You know damn well it's not about money. I don't like liars, Kitten. I already know the truth. I just want to hear it from those pretty lips of yours." He's bluffing, I convince myself. He doesn't know shit, and I refuse to tell him. He takes another sip, his gaze unyielding, waiting patiently for a more satisfying answer. "Okay, maybe I accidentally left it in my car. I didn't want you to have to go back for it." "Oh, we can easily fix that. Get little Zuri back in the car, and we'll go pick it up." "That's not necessary," I insist, striving to keep my voice calm and steady. He raises a dark eyebrow. "Your phone isn't a necessity?" "I mean, not tonight. We can just go pick it up another day." He hums, stroking his chin as he continues to gaze at me. Then, without warning, he gets out of the chair and strides over to me. I try to flinch away, but he firmly grasp my chin, turning my face to the side. "W-What are you doing?" I ask, my voice trembling. Our eyes meet, raging chaos reflected in his amber depths. "Seeing the marks that motherfucker left on you so I know exactly where to stab him." "What are you talking about?" I grit out, replacing my fear with anger. He grabs the collar of my shirt, and rips it apart with his bare hands. I gasp. "King-" "That's what I thought," he growls. I don't have to look down to know what he's seeing. The blue and purple bruises are just beginning to heal from a few nights ago when Isaac unleashed on me. The skin is mottled and tender, each mark a reminder of the monster my husband has become. "Please don't tell Gray," I plead in a whisper. A wicked grin slowly spreads across his face. "What lengths will you go to make me keep my mouth shut?" "What do you want?" I ask, trying to keep my voice steady. "To fuck you," he answers without missing a beat. I burst out in laughter, the sound hollow and strained. "You're kidding, right?" He tilts his head, his expression deadly serious. "Does it look like I am?" My face drops. "Y-You can't be serious. You're such a fucking asshole," I growl. "You're really going to blackmail me for sex?" He hums, as if contemplating it. "Yeah, I guess I am." I stare at him blankly, my mind racing. Was this his plan all along? Get me here in his house, knowing he already knew what was going on just so he could stick his filthy dick inside me? I knew it. I knew he wasn't genuinely helping me. "You're a monster," I spit, my voice shaking with a potent mixture of anger and betrayal. His smile never falters. "Which is it, kitten? Are you going to bend that ass over my couch, or do you want me to do it for you?" There's no doubt in my mind that the second he gets in contact with Gray, he'll spill everything before I even get the chance to explain. Gray, being the hot-headed, overprotective brother he is would go after him without thinking, and end up in prison for life. If I have to fuck King just to shut his stupid fucking mouth just until I figure out how to get away safely with Zuri, it's a chance I have to take. Even if that makes me a whore, an adulterer. I'll do what I have to so King doesn't fuck up my plan. I stand up, and yank down my leggings and panties as I glare at him. "Fine. Fuck me, but I won't enjoy it," I growl out, bending over the arm of the couch. "Matter of fact, after this is over, me and Zuri are leaving. I don't care if I have to hitchhike somewhere, I never want to see you again." I don't mean it, I have nowhere else to go and I would never put Zuri in danger like that, but I'm just so fucking angry. I want to stab him in his fucking eyeball with a fork. "Fuck, you're so cute when you're an angry little kitty," he groans, stepping closer. Placing a firm hand on my lower back, I hear the quiet thud of his sweatpants coming down. He nudges my entrance, slowly rubbing the head of his cock up and down my slit, coating it in my natural wetness. Fuck. This is really happening. "You're making me a cheater," I point out angrily, feeling almost helpless. But not in the same way that Isaac has ever made me feel. I don't hate it as much as I want to. "Don't worry, he'll be too dead to find out," King replies, his tone dripping with sadistic amusement. I can hear the stupid smirk in his voice. "I hate you," I say between clenched teeth. "I hate you," he mocks, mimicking my voice. "Hate me with this dick in your pussy." With that, he rips through me.

Chapter 1 Olivia's POV I slumped against the passenger seat as Ryan's car cruised through the palm-lined streets of Los Angeles. My eyelids felt heavy after a twelve-hour shift at Carter Enterprises. The quarterly marketing campaign required us all to work overtime, and as a junior marketing executive, I was stuck with weekend work. "You still with me, babe?" Ryan glanced over, his perfectly styled dark hair catching the sunset's glow. "Barely." I stifled a yawn. "Remind me why we're going to this party when I could be face-planting into my pillow right now?" "Because Sophia would kill you if you missed her birthday." He reached over and squeezed my knee. "And because you look stunning in that dress I bought for you." I glanced down at the black cocktail dress he'd insisted I wear. The neckline plunged lower than I'd normally choose, and the hemline rode high enough to make me self-conscious every time I sat down. Ryan had shown up at my apartment with the dress in a boutique bag, eyes gleaming with anticipation as I'd tried it on. "I still think it's a bit much for a birthday party," I tugged at the fabric, trying to cover more of my chest. "Liv, we've been dating for two years. I know what looks good on you better than you do. Trust me, every guy at this party will wish he was me tonight." "Is that what this is about? Marking your territory?" "Can you blame me?" He winked as he turned onto Sophia's street, where luxury cars lined both sides. Sophia's recently purchased triplex stood illuminated against the darkening sky, music pulsing from within. For someone only turning twenty-five, she'd done remarkably well for herself in real estate development. Ryan found a spot half a block away and cut the engine. "Ready to make an entrance, Ms. Morgan?" "As I'll ever be." I grabbed my purse and the gift bag containing the vintage champagne Ryan had suggested we bring. The cool evening air hit my bare shoulders as I stepped out of the car, making me shiver. Ryan's arm slid around my waist, his hand resting dangerously low on my hip. "See? Worth getting dressed up for." He nodded toward the house. "This place is insane." We walked up the curved driveway where twinkling lights had been strung through the palm trees. The front door stood open, spilling light, music, and laughter onto the porch. "Olivia! You made it!" Sophia appeared in the doorway, resplendent in a gold sequined dress. "I was starting to think you'd stood me up!" "My work tried its best to keep me away," I laughed, accepting her enthusiastic hug. "Happy birthday, Soph." "And Ryan, looking delicious as always." She air-kissed his cheeks. "Come in, come in! Everyone's already two drinks ahead of you." Ryan's hand pressed against the small of my back as we entered the foyer, which opened to a massive great room where at least thirty people mingled. The space featured floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the twinkling Los Angeles skyline. "Drink?" Ryan asked, already scanning the room. "God, yes. The strongest thing they've got." He chuckled. "That's my girl. Be right back." As Ryan disappeared toward the bar setup, I heard a familiar squeal from across the room. "Olivia Morgan, get your ass over here!" I turned to see Emilia waving frantically from a plush sectional sofa. My best friend since college was already flushed from alcohol, her blonde hair falling in waves around her shoulders. "Em!" I navigated through clusters of guests to reach her. "How long have you been here?" "Long enough to know the bartender's life story." She stood, wobbling slightly in her heels, and embraced me. She pulled back, holding me at arm's length to examine my outfit. "Holy shit, your boobs look amazing in that dress. Did Ryan pick it out?" I felt my cheeks warm. "Is it that obvious?" "Only because I've known you for eight years, and you've never willingly shown that much cleavage." She smirked. "Not that I'm complaining. If I had your rack, I'd show it off, too." "Could you say that a little louder? I don't think everyone in Malibu heard you." "Sorry, can't help it. You're too easy to embarrass." Emilia's eyes danced with mischief as she took another sip of her drink. "By the way, have you seen our birthday girl? I swear she was here greeting people and then just... vanished." I scanned the crowded room. "No, actually. Where did Ryan go? He was supposed to be getting me a drink." "Maybe he's outside? I saw some people heading to the back lawn earlier." Emilia shrugged. "Or he could be sneaking a cigarette." I narrowed my eyes. "He told me he quit three months ago. If I catch him smoking after all that 'I'm done with nicotine forever, baby' bullshit, I'll kill him myself." "Men lie about the stupidest things. Like, just admit you still smoke and save us both the drama." "I'm going to find him," I said, tugging at my dress, which had ridden up dangerously high. "If he's outside with a cigarette, I'm putting it on his favorite shoes." "That's my girl." Emilia raised her glass. "I'll be right here judging everyone's outfit choices when you get back." I weaved through the crowded living room, nodding at half-familiar faces from past gatherings. The kitchen was jammed with people mixing drinks. No Ryan. The back patio held a group playing some drinking games with shots and ping pong balls. No Ryan among them. "Looking for someone?" A tall guy with a man-bun approached, his eyes dropping to my cleavage before meeting my gaze. "My boyfriend. Tall, dark hair, probably looking smug about something." He laughed. "Haven't seen him. But I'd be happy to keep you company until he shows up." "Hard pass, but thanks." I turned away, irritation building. Where the hell was Ryan with my drink? I climbed the modern floating staircase to the next floor, where the noise from the party became more muffled. The hallway was dimly lit and had several closed doors. A sound caught my attention – a moan? A laugh? Something between the two. It was faint, coming from further down the hall. The sound came again, more distinct this time. Definitely a moan. Great. A couple had found a private spot to hook up at Sophia's party. How classy. I was about to turn back when I noticed a slightly ajar door at the end of the hallway, a sliver of light spilling onto the hardwood floor. Something compelled me forward – curiosity, or perhaps a sixth sense I didn't know I had. As I approached, the sounds became clearer. A woman's voice, breathless and urgent: "Fuck, yes, right there." I froze. The voice was familiar. A male voice responded, low and commanding: "You like that, don't you? Tell me how much you want it." My stomach dropped. Ryan's voice. I should have turned away, run down those stairs, and straight out the front door. Instead, I moved closer, pushing the door open wider. The scene burned into my retinas like a brand. Sophia bent over her dresser; her gold dress pushed up around her waist. Ryan was behind her, his pants around his ankles, hands gripping her hips as he thrust into her. "Harder," Sophia gasped. "Make me feel it tomorrow." "What the fuck?" The words escaped me before I could stop them. They both froze. Ryan's head whipped around, his eyes widening with shock. Chapter 2 Olivia's POV Ryan's head whipped around, his eyes widening with shock. For a moment, time suspended itself. My lungs refused to work, and the room seemed to tilt sideways. "Liv—" Ryan stammered, still connected to Sophia. "This isn't—" "What it looks like?" I finished, my voice surprisingly steady despite the earthquake happening inside me. "Because it looks like you're fucking my friend on her birthday while I wait downstairs for a drink that's never coming." Sophia turned her head, meeting my gaze without a hint of shame. She didn't even bother to adjust her dress; she just rested her elbows on the dresser and sighed like I'd interrupted a business meeting. "Oh, Olivia," she said, her voice dripping with condescension. "Did you think a man like Ryan would be satisfied with just you?" Ryan finally pulled away from her, fumbling to pull up his pants. "Baby, please, this is just a... a thing. It doesn't mean anything." "A thing?" I repeated, heat rising to my face. "How long has this 'thing' been happening?" Before either could answer, I heard footsteps behind me. "Liv? Did you find—" Emilia's voice cut off as she appeared at my side, taking in the scene. "Holy fucking shit." Ryan's face paled further. "This isn't what—" "If you say 'this isn't what it looks like' one more time, I swear to God I will castrate you with my bare hands," Emilia snapped, her arm wrapping protectively around my shoulders. Sophia straightened up, finally adjusting her dress with leisurely movements. She tossed her hair back and had the audacity to smirk. "Ryan and I have an understanding. It's just sex. Great sex, but still just sex." "An understanding?" I laughed, the sound brittle and foreign to my ears. "And when exactly were you planning to include me in this understanding? After you gave me chlamydia, or before?" "Don't be dramatic," Ryan said, tucking in his shirt. "We've been careful." "Oh, careful! Well, that makes it all better then!" I threw my hands up. "You've been carefully fucking my friend behind my back. Such consideration!" Sophia leaned against the dresser, crossing her arms. "We're all adults here. Monogamy is so... limiting, don't you think?" Emilia stepped forward. "The only thing limiting around here is your moral compass, you backstabbing bitch." "Watch it," Sophia warned, her eyes narrowing. "Or what? You'll sleep with my boyfriend too? Get in line." Emilia turned to Ryan. "And you. You pathetic excuse for a man. Two years? Two fucking years of her life wasted on you?" Ryan finally managed to buckle his belt. "Liv, baby, please. We can talk about this. It's just physical. It doesn't change how I feel about you." "You feel so much for me that you bought me this dress." I gestured to my outfit. "So, I could be downstairs putting on a show for your friends while you're up here with your dick in Sophia?" "The dress looks amazing on you," he offered weakly. I stared at him in disbelief. "That's what you're going with right now? Fashion compliments?" "I'm just saying—" "No, I'm done listening to what you're 'just saying.'" I turned to leave, then spun back. "Two years, Ryan. Two years of me rearranging my schedule for you and believing every word out of your mouth. Was any of it real?" He took a step toward me. "Of course, it was real. I love you, Liv." "Spare me," I spat. "If this is your version of love, I want nothing to do with it." Sophia sighed dramatically. "Can we wrap this up? I have guests downstairs." "You have one less now," I said, turning away. "Enjoy your birthday present. You two deserve each other." Emilia shot them both a final glare before following me out. We marched down the hallway, my legs somehow carrying me forward despite feeling like they might collapse. "I've got you," Emilia whispered, her arm still around me as we descended the stairs. The party continued below us, oblivious to the implosion that had just occurred upstairs. The music seemed too loud now, the laughter too jarring. We pushed through the crowd toward the front door. Someone called my name, but I kept moving, my eyes fixed on the exit. The cool night air hit my face as we stepped outside, and only then did I realize I was shaking. We made it to the sidewalk when I heard the front door open behind us. I refused to look back. "Olivia!" Ryan called out. "Wait!" Emilia turned, positioning herself between us like a shield. "Go back to your birthday girl, asshole." "This is between me and Liv," he insisted but made no move to follow us. "There is no 'me and Liv' anymore," I called back, still walking. "We're done." His response was lost as we rounded the corner, the sounds of the party fading behind us. Once out of sight, my composure crumbled. I stopped walking, my breath coming in gasps. "I can't believe…I can't…" I pressed my hand to my mouth. "I know, honey. I know." Emilia pulled me into a hug. "Let it out." "Two years," I whispered against her shoulder. "Two fucking years." She stroked my hair. "I'm so sorry, Liv." I pulled back, wiping angrily at my eyes. "Did you know? About them?" Emilia hesitated. "Not for sure. But I had my suspicions." "What? Why didn't you say anything?" She sighed, fishing her phone from her purse. "I saw them at Barton's Café last month. They said they'd run into each other, but it seemed... off. The way they were sitting, the way he touched her arm. I didn't want to say anything without proof. I didn't want to hurt you if I was wrong." "Well, now we have proof," I said bitterly. "Let me call us a cab," Emilia said, tapping her phone. "My car's not here. Jake dropped me off." I hugged myself against the chill, suddenly aware of how exposed I felt in the dress Ryan had chosen. "No cabs available. Let's walk a bit. I'll keep trying for a ride and call Jake. Maybe he can pick us up." "Fine by me." I just wanted to get as far away from Sophia's house as possible. "I'd walk to Mexico now if it meant never seeing Ryan again." We started down the sidewalk, my heels clicking against the concrete. The neighborhood was upscale, with sprawling houses set back from the road, but the street itself was poorly lit. The rumble of an engine cut her off as a convertible slowed beside us. Four guys crowded inside, the stench of alcohol wafting our way. The driver leaned over, his eyes crawling over my body before settling on my chest. "Hey, babes, want a ride?" He grinned, revealing a gold tooth. "We got plenty of room on our laps." His friends burst into laughter. The one in the passenger seat raised a bottle. "We're celebrating! Don't you wanna celebrate with us?" "Fuck off," Emilia snapped, pulling me closer. "Ooh, feisty!" The driver killed the engine. "I like feisty." One guy, thick-necked with a tribal tattoo, vaulted over the door. He staggered toward us, pointing at Emilia. "You got a mouth on you, blondie. Let's see what else it can do." Before I could react, he lunged forward and grabbed Emilia by her hair, yanking her head back. She screamed, clawing at his arm. "Let her go!" I shouted, my marketing executive persona vanishing as pure rage took over. I swung my purse, connecting with his temple. He stumbled but kept his grip on Emilia's hair. "Your friend wants to play rough, huh?" He leered at me, eyes fixed on my chest. "Nice tits. Bet they bounce real good." Chapter 3 Olivia's POV My fist throbbed from connecting with the guy's head, but it hadn't done enough. Emilia whimpered as he yanked her hair harder, forcing her head back at an unnatural angle. "Let her go, you piece of shit!" I hissed, fear and fury colliding in my chest. "Or what?" He laughed, his breath reeking of whiskey. "You gonna hit me with your little purse again?" The other men from the car were climbing out now, their movements predatory as they circled around us. The driver, with his gold tooth catching the dim streetlight, stepped toward me. "C'mon baby, we just wanna have some fun." His eyes never left my chest. "You're dressed like you want attention. We're just giving you what you want." "I want you to let my friend go and fuck off back to whatever sewer you crawled out of," I spat, backing away until I felt a tree behind me. "Ooh, she's got a mouth on her too," said another shorter but broad-shouldered guy wearing a baseball cap. "I like that. Makes it more fun when they fight a little." The driver reached for me, his fingers grazing my arm. I slapped his hand away. "Don't touch me!" "Playing hard to get?" He moved closer, pinning me against the tree. "That's cute." Emilia was still struggling against Tribal Tattoo's grip. "Liv, run! Just run!" "I'm not leaving you," I said, looking desperately around for anything I could use as a weapon. The driver pressed his body against mine; one hand braced on the tree beside my head. "Your friend's not going anywhere, and neither are you." His other hand reached for my breast. "Let's see if these feel as good as they look." I brought my knee up hard, aiming for his groin, but he twisted away at the last second. My knee glanced off his thigh. "Feisty bitch!" He grabbed my wrist, squeezing until I gasped in pain. Headlights suddenly illuminated the scene as another car screeched to a halt beside us. The engine cut off, and the driver's door opened. "Is there a problem here?" A deep voice cut through the night. A tall figure emerged from the shadows into the spill of a distant streetlight. Broad-shouldered and imposing in what looked like an expensive suit, he moved with a quiet confidence that commanded attention. "Mind your own business, man," Gold Tooth snarled, but I noticed he'd loosened his grip on my wrist. The newcomer stepped closer, and I caught my breath. Even in the dim light, I recognized him immediately. Alexander Carter. My boss's boss's boss. The CEO of Carter Enterprises, where I'd been working as a junior marketing executive for the past eight months. "I believe these ladies were telling you to leave them alone," he said, his voice calm but edged with steel. "I suggest you listen." Gold Tooth sneered. "What are you gonna do about it? There's four of us and one of you." Alexander didn't even blink. "True. But I've already called the police, and they're on their way. I'm sure they'd be interested to know about four drunk men assaulting two women on a public street." Tribal Tattoo finally released Emilia's hair, shoving her forward. "Whatever, man. These bitches ain't worth the trouble." Emilia stumbled toward me, and I caught her, pulling her close. "You okay?" I whispered. She nodded, rubbing her scalp. "Bastard nearly ripped my hair out." Gold Tooth took a step toward Carter, puffing out his chest. "You think you're some kind of hero? Rich boy in his fancy car?" Alexander simply stared him down, not moving an inch. "I think I'm someone who doesn't want to see two women harassed by drunken idiots. Now, you can leave on your own, or you can wait for the police. Your choice." For a tense moment, I thought Gold Tooth might throw a punch. Instead, he spat on the ground near Alexander's polished shoes. "Let's go," he muttered to his friends. "These sluts aren't worth jail time." They piled back into their convertible, engine roaring to life. Gold Tooth revved it aggressively before peeling away, tires screeching. Alexander turned to us. "Are you both all right?" Up close, he was even more intimidating than he was at company events. Tall, with sharp features and piercing gray eyes, he had the kind of face that belonged in business magazines, where it often appeared. Despite the late hour, his dark hair was neatly styled, not a strand out of place. "We're okay," I managed, suddenly conscious of my appearance: disheveled hair, makeup probably smeared from crying earlier, and this ridiculous dress that now felt like a terrible mistake. "Thank you for stopping." "Do you need a ride somewhere?" he asked, his eyes briefly dropping to my chest before snapping back to my face. "Our cab canceled," Emilia said, still rubbing her scalp. "And my boyfriend's not answering his phone." Alexander gestured to his car, a sleek black car. "I'm happy to drive you both home." I hesitated. This was Alexander Carter, the man who signed my paychecks and whose name was on the building where I worked. The man was known for his ruthless business tactics and cold demeanor. The last thing I needed was for him to realize I was one of his employees, especially looking like this. "That's very kind," I said carefully, "but we don't want to impose." "It's no imposition," he replied. "I'd rather not leave you out here after what just happened." Emilia looked at me with raised eyebrows, silently communicating: "Are you crazy? Free ride in a sleek car with a hot, rich guy? Say yes!" "If you're sure it's not too much trouble," I relented. "Not at all." He opened the backseat door. "Please." The car's interior was all black leather and gleaming surfaces. It smelled of expensive cologne and a new car, a heady combination that made my head spin—or maybe that was the adrenaline crash. "I'm Alexander Carter," he said as he slid behind the wheel. "Olivia," I replied, deliberately omitting my last name. "And this is Emilia." "Pleasure to meet you both, despite the circumstances." He started the engine, which purred to life. "Where am I taking you?" Emilia gave him her address first, and then I gave him mine. "Rough night?" he asked as we pulled away from the curb. Emilia snorted. "You could say that. We were at a birthday party where Liv caught her boyfriend banging the birthday girl." "Emilia!" I hissed, mortified. Alexander's eyes flicked to me in the rearview mirror. "I see. I'm sorry to hear that." "It's fine," I mumbled, wishing I could disappear into the leather seat. "It's not fine," Emilia insisted. "Ryan is a cheating scumbag who deserves to have his dick fall off." A small smile tugged at the corner of Alexander's mouth. "I take it Ryan is the ex-boyfriend?" "As of about a few minutes ago, yes," I confirmed, wondering why I was discussing my love life with my CEO. "Well, for what it's worth," he said, his eyes meeting mine briefly in the mirror again, "he sounds like an idiot." Chapter 4 Olivia's POV The car fell silent as we drove through the streets of Los Angeles, the city lights blurring past the windows. I studied Alexander's profile, the strong jaw, and straight nose, wondering why he'd stopped to help us. Everything I'd heard about him at work painted him as cold, distant, focused only on the bottom line. We reached Emilia's apartment building first. Alexander pulled up to the curb, the engine purring quietly as he shifted into park. "This is me," Emilia announced, gathering her purse. She leaned over to hug me, using the moment to whisper in my ear. "Holy fuck, Liv. He's hot as balls. If he wants to bang you senseless tonight, you better fucking do it. The best way to get over Ryan is to get under the CEO. Shit, those hands look like they know what they're doing." I pulled back, shooting her a death glare that could have melted steel. "What?" she mouthed innocently before turning to Alexander. "Thanks for the ride, knight in shining Armani. You're a lifesaver." "It was no trouble," he replied politely. Emilia opened the door, then paused to give me one last meaningful look. "Call me tomorrow with ALL the details." She waggled her eyebrows suggestively. "Goodbye, Emilia," I said firmly, my cheeks burning. She blew me a kiss and slammed the door, sauntering toward her building with a little extra sway in her hips, no doubt for Alexander's benefit. As we pulled away, I sank deeper into the leather seat, mortified. "I'm so sorry about her. She has no filter." Alexander's eyes met mine in the rearview mirror. "No need to apologize. She seems like a good friend." "The best," I admitted. "Even if she occasionally makes me want to strangle her." His lips quirked upward, almost a smile but not quite. "Those are often the best kinds of friends." We lapsed into silence as he navigated through the streets of Los Angeles. The city lights streamed past the windows, creating a kaleidoscope effect that matched my swirling thoughts. I caught Alexander glancing at me in the mirror a few times, his expression unreadable. "Left at the next light," I directed as we approached my neighborhood. He nodded, making the turn smoothly. "Here we are," he announced, pulling up to my apartment building. It wasn't fancy by LA standards but clean and in a decent area. I could just barely afford it on my junior executive salary. He turned off the engine and, to my surprise, got out to open my door. His hand extended to help me out, warm and solid as I took it. The contact sent an unexpected jolt up my arm. "Thank you again," I said, reluctantly letting go of his hand. "For everything tonight." Alexander studied me for a moment, his gray eyes intense. "I hope you're able to move past what happened tonight. Your boyfriend, or rather your ex-boyfriend, clearly didn't appreciate what he had." The unexpected kindness in his voice made my throat tighten. "I'll be fine," I managed. "I'm sure you will," he agreed. "Someone like you won't stay single for long unless you want to." I wasn't sure how to respond to that. Was Alexander Carter, CEO of Carter Enterprises, flirting with me? No, that was ridiculous. He was just being polite. "Goodnight, Olivia," he said, stepping back toward his car. "Goodnight, Alexander. And thank you for the ride." He nodded once, then slid back into his car. I watched as he drove away, his taillights disappearing around the corner before I turned and entered my building. The elevator ride to my fourth-floor apartment felt endless. My keys jangled in my shaking hands as I unlocked my door, stepping into the darkness of my living room. I flipped on the light, tossed my purse on the counter, and kicked off my heels. The silence of my apartment pressed in around me. Just hours ago, I'd been getting ready for what I thought would be a normal night out with my boyfriend. Now, everything had changed. I peeled off the black cocktail dress and threw it in the trash. Never again would I wear something just because a man told me it looked good on me. In my bathroom, I scrubbed off my makeup. The woman in the mirror looked tired, her eyes red-rimmed but clear. I pulled on an oversized t-shirt and fell onto my bed, staring at the ceiling. My phone buzzed on the nightstand, probably Ryan finally realizing what he'd lost. I ignored it. Why had he done it? Two years together, and he throws it all away for Sophia? Had he been sleeping with her all along? The signs had been there: the late nights at work, the sudden business trips, the way his phone was always face-down when I was around. I'd trusted him completely. What a fool I'd been. My phone buzzed again. This time, I glanced at it. Emilia. "You home safe? Did Mr. CEO make a move? Please say yes." I texted back: "Yes, I'm home. No, he didn't. Go to sleep." Her response was immediate: "Boring! But seriously, you okay?" "I will be," I replied and realized I meant it. I tossed my phone onto the nightstand and stared at the ceiling, my mind racing despite my exhaustion. Sleep seemed impossible. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Ryan thrusting into Sophia, her smug face, his pathetic excuses. "Fuck," I whispered to the empty room. "Two years down the drain." I rolled over, burying my face in my pillow. Two years of holidays, family gatherings, inside jokes—all tainted now. But something else kept intruding on my thoughts: Alexander Carter's piercing gray eyes in the rearview mirror. Alexander Carter. My CEO. The man I'd just met while looking like a complete disaster. "He probably won't even remember me tomorrow," I muttered, flipping onto my back again. "Why would he? He's Alexander fucking Carter." The ceiling offered no answers. I'd worked at Carter Enterprises for eight months and never once spoken to him. I'd seen him striding through the lobby, standing at podiums during company-wide meetings, his face on the company website and annual reports. Always distant. Always untouchable. And now he'd seen me at my absolute worst, heartbroken in a slutty dress. "Great first impression, Olivia. Really professional." I snorted at my own sarcasm. It was as if Alexander Carter would ever connect the disheveled woman he'd rescued with Olivia Morgan, a junior marketing executive. Our worlds didn't intersect. He inhabited the executive floor with its panoramic views of Los Angeles. At the same time, I worked in my cubicle fifteen floors below, crafting social media campaigns for products I could barely afford. I pulled the covers over my head, trying to force sleep to come. But my brain had other ideas, conjuring an image of running into Alexander in the office elevator. Would he recognize me? Would I have the courage to thank him again? Would he look at me with those intense gray eyes and see past the professional facade to the woman he'd rescued? "As if," I mumbled into my pillow. "He probably rescues women from creeps every weekend. It's probably a rich guy's hobby." But what if he did remember me? What if our paths crossed in the office cafeteria or during a presentation? What would I say? Chapter 5 Alexander's POV I parked my car in the circular driveway of my parent's estate, taking a moment to prepare myself for the inevitable Carter family dynamics. Sunday dinner at the Carter mansion, a tradition as old as the oak trees lining the property, was something I both dreaded and looked forward to. The mansion stood like a monument to old money, with stone façades and manicured gardens that screamed, "We've had wealth for generations." My phone buzzed with an email from work, but I ignored it. Work could wait, but family obligations couldn't, especially when Grandfather Harold was involved. I straightened my tie and headed inside, where Martha, our longtime housekeeper, greeted me with a warm smile. "Mr. Alexander, everyone's waiting in the drawing room. Your grandfather arrived early." That was never a good sign. Grandfather arriving early meant he had an agenda. "Is Victoria here?" I asked, handing Martha my coat. "Yes, sir. With her husband. They arrived about an hour ago." Perfect. My cousin Victoria and her investment banker husband Thomas, the power couple who never let anyone forget how perfect their life was. The drawing room buzzed with conversation that stopped when I entered. Mother rose from her seat, elegant as always in her pearl necklace and tailored dress. "Alexander, darling. We were beginning to worry." I kissed her cheek. "Traffic was terrible. Sorry, I'm late." Father nodded from his armchair, whiskey in hand. "Son." That was Father, a man of few words unless discussing business or golf. Victoria sat perched on the antique sofa, her husband's arm draped around her shoulder in that possessive way I found irritating. My sister Valentina was there, too, scrolling through her phone. But it was Grandfather Harold who commanded the room from his wheelchair. At seventy-eight, he might have lost some mobility but none of his mental sharpness or business acumen. "Alexander," he barked. "Sit down. We need to talk." I took a seat across from him. "Good to see you too, Grandfather." "Don't get smart with me, boy. I've been waiting." Victoria smirked. "Some of us manage to arrive on time, cousin dear." I ignored her. "What's this about? I thought this was just dinner." Grandfather Harold waved his hand dismissively. "Dinner can wait. This is about the future of Carter Enterprises." The room fell silent. When Grandfather talked about the company's future, everyone paid attention. He'd built Carter Enterprises from a small family business into a corporate empire and, at seventy-eight, still held the controlling stake. "I've been updating my will," he announced. Mother gasped softly. Father set down his whiskey. "Oh, relax; I'm not dying yet," Grandfather snapped. "Just getting my affairs in order. And I've made some decisions about the company shares." I leaned forward. As CEO, I had a significant stake in the company, but Grandfather's controlling shares would eventually determine who truly ran Carter Enterprises. "Alexander," he fixed his steely gaze on me. "You've done well as CEO. Profits are up. The board is happy. But there's something missing." "Missing?" I frowned. "Our last quarter was our best in five years." "I'm not talking about business." He thumped his cane on the floor. "I'm talking about family. Stability. A legacy." Victoria's husband coughed discreetly. Victoria's smile widened. "What exactly are you saying, Grandfather?" Harold Carter leaned forward in his wheelchair. "I'm saying that to inherit my controlling shares in Carter Enterprises, you need to be married within six months." The room exploded in reactions. Mother gasped again. Father actually put down his drink. Valentina looked up from her phone. Victoria burst into delighted laughter. "Married?" I stared at him. "You can't be serious." "Dead serious." Grandfather's expression didn't change. "Carter Enterprises has always been family-run. Family means stability. Commitment." "I'm committed to the company!" "But not to anything or anyone else." Grandfather shook his head. "You're thirty-three, Alexander. Your relationships last shorter than some of our quarterly reports." Victoria couldn't contain herself. "Oh, this is priceless. Is Alexander getting married? He can't even keep a girlfriend past the three-month mark." "Thank you for that astute observation, Victoria," I said, forcing a smile. "Always a pleasure to have your support." Uncle Richard, Victoria's father, chuckled from the corner of the room. "The boy does have a track record." "A track record?" My father set his tumbler down with more force than necessary. "Last year, we selected a perfectly suitable woman for him. The engagement was announced in the Times, for God's sake. And then what happened, Alexander?" I loosened my tie slightly. "Dad—" "He canceled it two weeks before the wedding," Father continued, addressing the room like I wasn't there. "The merger nearly fell apart because of it." Aunt Patricia gasped dramatically. "Penelope Langford? Such a lovely girl and from a good family. What a shame." "She wasn't right for me," I said firmly. Valentina finally looked up from her phone. "He didn't like her. Said she reminded him of a corporate spreadsheet – technically perfect but utterly boring." "Thank you for sharing that, Val," I muttered. My sister shrugged and went back to her phone. "Just telling it like it is." Grandfather Harold thumped his cane again. "Enough! The terms are simple. Alexander marries within six months, or Victoria receives my controlling stake in the company." Victoria nearly spilled her champagne in excitement. "Really, Grandfather? You'd give me control?" Her husband Thomas straightened his posture, dollar signs practically visible in his eyes. "I didn't build this company for forty years to watch it get dismantled by your husband's investment firm," Grandfather snapped at Victoria. "But at least you understand commitment." I stood up, pacing the Persian rug. "This is absurd. You're reducing the future of our family business to whether or not I get married? What century is this?" "The century where actions have consequences," Grandfather replied. "Victoria may be insufferable—" "Hey!" Victoria protested. "—but she's stable. Married. Committed." Victoria's smirk returned. "Face it, Alexander. You couldn't commit to a woman if your life depended on it. Now your career does, and we all know how that's going to end." Something snapped inside me. I'd tolerated Victoria's barbs for years, but this was different. This was my life's work at stake. "You know what, Victoria? You're wrong." "Am I?" She swirled her champagne. "Name one relationship you've had that lasted longer than a corporate quarterly report." My cousin Matthew, who'd been silently watching the drama unfold, whistled low. "She's got you there, Alex." I straightened my shoulders. "I'll do it. I'll get married within six months." The room fell silent again. "To whom?" Father asked skeptically. "I'll figure that out." Victoria burst into laughter. "Oh, this is too good! Alexander Carter, CEO and eligible bachelor, desperately seeking a wife. Should we put an ad in the classifieds?" Her husband joined in. "Maybe we should start interviewing candidates. Create a shortlist." "I don't need help finding someone," I said through gritted teeth. Aunt Elizabeth, who'd been quietly knitting in the corner, looked up. "What about that nice PR director at your company? Jennifer, something?" "She's married, Mother," Victoria said. "Oh. Well, what about your assistant?" "I'm not marrying my assistant, Aunt Elizabeth." Grandfather Harold raised his hand for silence. "The terms are set. Six months from today." Uncle Richard raised his glass. "To Alexander's impending nuptials! May he find a bride before Victoria gets his office." Victoria clinked glasses with her father. "I'm already planning where to put my new desk." I clenched my jaw. "Enjoy the fantasy while it lasts, cousin. I'm not losing the company." "Six months, Alexander," Grandfather reminded me. "The clock starts now." Chapter 6 Olivia I slept fitfully, my mind a carousel of images: Ryan's shocked face, Sophia's smug smirk, and, oddly, Alexander Carter's piercing gray eyes watching me in the rearview mirror. The weekend crawled by in a haze. I spent most of the time curled up on my couch, binging old movies, eating takeout, and ignoring the world, especially Ryan's desperate attempts to reach me. I let myself grieve, but by Sunday night, I was done crying; Ryan didn't deserve another tear. Monday morning arrived with brutal efficiency. I dragged myself into the shower, letting the hot water pound away the remnants of Friday night's disaster. No tears; I'd shed enough of those already. Ryan didn't deserve them. I wrapped myself in a towel and stared at my closet. What does one wear after catching their boyfriend balls-deep in another woman? I opted for armor: a crisp white blouse, a black pencil skirt, and highest heels. The kind of outfit that said, "I'm fine, fuck you very much." The cab ride to Carter Enterprises took twenty minutes. I spent it scrolling through Ryan's increasingly desperate texts. "Baby, please let me explain" "It was a mistake." "Call me." "I love YOU, not her." Delete. Delete. Delete. Delete. Carter Enterprises occupied a gleaming sixty-story tower in downtown Los Angeles. I'd been working there for eight months as a junior marketing executive, and despite the drama of my personal life imploding, I still felt a flutter of pride walking through those glass doors. The elevator whisked me to the 42nd floor. I stepped into the marketing department, where Nova was already at her desk, sipping her usual triple-shot espresso. "Morning, sunshine!" she called, then squinted at me. "You look different. New lipstick?" "New life status. Single." I dropped my bag at my desk. Before Nova could respond, Vivian breezed in, her red curls bouncing as she walked. "Ladies, you won't believe the email I just got. Apparently, the big boss himself will be sitting in on our presentation this week." "Alexander Carter?" I nearly choked on the words. "The one and only," Vivian confirmed, perching on the edge of my desk. "Why do you look like you've seen a ghost? It's not like you'll have to talk to him." If only she knew. "I'm just surprised," I managed. "He doesn't usually attend department presentations." Alice arrived last, as usual, balancing a stack of folders and her phone. "Sorry, I'm late. The barista got my order wrong twice. What did I miss?" "Alexander Carter's coming to our presentation, and Olivia's single," Nova summarized. Alice's eyes widened. "What? Which one should I address first?" "The presentation," I said quickly. "It's more important." "Like hell it is," Nova swiveled her chair to face me fully. "Spill it, Morgan. What happened with Ryan?" I sighed, lowering my voice. "I caught him fucking Sophia at her birthday party." All three women froze. "Sophia Santos? The one whose party you rushed off to?" Vivian clarified, her mouth hanging open. I nodded. "That backstabbing cunt," Nova breathed. "I hope his dick falls off," Alice added, patting my shoulder. "That's almost verbatim what Emilia said," I laughed despite myself. "What did you do?" Vivian leaned in, hungry for details. "I dumped him on the spot and left. End of story." "Good for you," Nova said firmly. "You deserve someone who knows what he has." "Preferably someone with a bigger dick and a functioning moral compass," Alice suggested. "Can we please focus on work now?" I begged. "I have the social media analytics to finish before lunch." They reluctantly returned to their desks, but I caught them shooting me concerned glances throughout the morning. I buried myself in spreadsheets and engagement metrics, grateful for the distraction. The last thing I needed was to think about that night, including my unexpected encounter with Alexander Carter. The CEO of Carter Enterprises wasn't just my boss; he was a legend in the business world. Cold, calculating, brilliant. He'd taken his grandfather's company and transformed it into a multinational corporation in less than a decade. The tabloids occasionally linked him with models or actresses, but he was notoriously private. And I really, really didn't want him to connect the dots between the disheveled woman he'd rescued and Olivia Morgan, a junior marketing executive. At lunch, we headed to the company cafeteria on the 30th floor. I scanned the room instinctively, relaxing when I didn't spot any tall, dark-haired executives. "So," Vivian said as we settled at our usual table, "tell us more about Friday. You rushed out of here like your ass was on fire." I poked at my salad. "Not much to tell. I got to the party, couldn't find Ryan, went looking for him, and found him bent over Sophia's dresser, drilling her like he was looking for oil." Nova snorted water through her nose. "Jesus, Liv! Warning next time." "What did you say?" Alice asked, leaning forward. "I asked if they'd been 'careful' and reminded him that monogamy is apparently very limiting." I stabbed a cherry tomato. "Then I told him to go fuck himself. Or Sophia. Whichever." "Queen shit," Vivian raised her water bottle in a toast. "To Olivia, who doesn't take crap from cheating assholes." "To Olivia," the others echoed. "Anything else interesting happened?" Alice asked. "Did you key his car? Throw drinks? Create a scene?" I hesitated. "No, nothing like that. Emilia and I just left." I couldn't bring myself to mention Alexander. It felt too surreal, too private somehow. The next few days passed in a blur of work and ignored calls from Ryan. I threw myself into the upcoming presentation, staying late to perfect the slides and rehearse my talking points. If Alexander Carter was going to be there, everything needed to be flawless. Not that he'd recognize me. He probably rescued women from creeps all the time. Why would he remember one random encounter? Thursday morning, I arrived early to set up the conference room. Our presentation on the new social media campaign was scheduled for 10 AM, and my stomach had been in knots since I woke up. "Relax," Nova said, adjusting the projector. "Carter probably won't even show up. These executives always have 'emergencies' that pull them away." "And if he does show up, he'll be on his phone the whole time," Vivian added, straightening the chairs. Alice arrived with a tray of coffee. "Or he'll leave halfway through. That's what happened at the last sales presentation." Their attempts at reassurance weren't helping. I couldn't shake the image of Alexander recognizing me, his eyebrows rising in surprise as he connected the dots between professional Olivia Morgan and the emotional wreck he'd driven home. By 9:55, the room was filled with marketing staff and a few executives I recognized from other departments. I took my position near the front, reviewing my notes one last time. At exactly 10 AM, the room fell silent. I looked up to see Alexander Carter striding through the door, followed by two assistants. He was even more imposing in his natural habitat with a charcoal suit perfectly tailored to his broad shoulders, and his presence commanded attention effortlessly. He nodded to the room and took a seat in the back row. I quickly looked down at my notes, my heart hammering against my ribs. There are limited chapters to put here, click “learn more” to open App to continue reading (It will automatically jump to the book)👇👇👇 #Goodnovel #novel

I’ve been married a year. My husband never touched me. I got so h0rny I went to the doctor. But the next day, I found out my new boss is the one who examined me. Now he calls me to his office for a private meeting… ----------------- "Strip from the waist down and lie back." The man's voice was deep and commanding. Natasha Whittier's heart gave a violent jolt in her chest. She had no idea when or how she had developed this shameful, unspeakable condition. Whenever the urge hit, she just wanted to be fked. It did not matter if she was at the office or out in public. This constant, dripping arousal was completely ruining her life. Pushed to the breaking point, she finally bit the bullet and booked an appointment at this high-end private clinic. She picked it strictly for the ironclad privacy, even though the bill was insanely high. But she had specifically asked for the head of gynecology, a woman in her late forties. 'Why is the person examining me a tall, strapping male doctor?' she wondered. "Do I really have to take them off?" Natasha asked. She was a total wreck, her voice barely a whisper. The thought of exposing herself to a strange man, even a doctor, was unbearably awkward. Jared Rundell kept a deadpan expression. "How am I supposed to check you out if you stay dressed?" "But I just..." Natasha flushed a deep crimson, shifting uncomfortably. A surgical mask covered half his face, but his piercing eyes were intense and impossible to read. A sudden, filthy fantasy hijacked her brain. She pictured him slamming her down onto the exam table and fking her brains out right then and there. Natasha quickly shook her head, trying to snap out of it. 'Jesus Christ! What is wrong with me? Why am I thinking about his c0k?' She took a deep breath to steady her racing pulse. 'He is just a doctor. He probably looks at dozens of w3t pvss1es every single day. This is literally just his nine-to-five.' Forcing herself to believe those excuses, she swallowed her pride, peeled off her pants and underwear, and lay back on the crinkly paper of the exam bed. "So, what exactly is bothering you?" Jared asked casually while prepping his sterilized tools. Natasha's cheeks burned like fire all over again. "My... my pvssi..." Seeing that she couldn't bring herself to say the actual word, Jared offered a blunt suggestion. "Rough s3x? Got a tear down there?" When young, hot women came into his GYN clinic, that was usually the culprit. To his surprise, Natasha shook her head, her cheeks still blazing. "No. I don't even have a s3x life." Jared froze. He turned to give her a shocked, lingering look. Natasha was a total knockout. She had flawless skin and delicate features, a perfect mix of pure innocence and raw s3x appeal. She was the kind of stunner a guy jerked off to after just one glance. 'A ten like her should have dudes lining up to date her. How the hel1 was she not getting laid?' he wondered. "I just... I feel really... weird... down there," she stammered, squirming under his heavy, dark stare. Jared's fingers gripped the swab a little tighter. He kept his cool on the outside, locking his eyes dead on hers. "Weird how?" Natasha went completely mute. She squeezed her eyes shut. 'How the hell do I even explain this?' "It's... well, it's just..." She bit down hard on her full lower lip, desperate to say it but completely stuck. Watching the deep cherry flush spread across her beautiful face, Jared swallowed hard. A heavy surge of heat pooled directly in his groin. He shoved the dirty thought aside and forced a professional tone. "Any idea what triggered it?" Natasha fumbled her words, utterly humiliated. "Well, it's... I..." She looked away, her heart pounding. 'How can I tell him I'm just insanely h0rny and aching for a hard c0k?' She had been married to her husband Percy Grosso for over a year, but he hadn't touched her once. As her physical urges grew stronger and more demanding, Percy had actually started avoiding her. He was terrified of her initiating anything sexual. Left with no other options, Natasha had been forced to take care of her own needs. But clearly, getting herself off wasn't cutting it anymore. She needed the real thing. She needed it hard and deep. Jared carefully watched her reactions. "Are you married?" Natasha nodded on instinct. For some inexplicable reason, a sharp wave of disappointment washed over him. Jared's eyes darkened a shade. "Just lie back and relax. Let me take a look." Natasha obediently leaned back. Her slender hands balled into tight fists by her sides. Her face felt like it was on fire. Jared stared intently at her, his voice dropping to a husky, intimate register. "Don't move." Natasha was already drowning in shame. 'Factoring in my hyper-sensitive, constantly aroused state, how could I possibly stay perfectly still while he intimately examines me?' "Is there any way I can get a female doctor?" she asked, thoroughly mortified. The look in Jared's eyes grew even more intense. "Are you dissatisfied with my care?" "No, that's not it at all," Natasha hurriedly tried to explain. Before she could finish, he cut her off with a cold, hard rejection. "You booked my time today. If you don't want to be treated, you can leave." Natasha suppressed a frustrated sigh. 'This guy is so aggressive and intense. I am definitely filing a complaint about his bedside manner later,' she promised herself. But her condition really couldn't wait any longer. She would just have to trust his medical expertise this one time. "I didn't mean anything by it," she pleaded softly. "Please, Doctor. You have to fix me." This was Jared's first time covering a shift at the clinic. He never expected a patient quite like this. Her specific condition was sensitive enough, but the fact that she was drop-dead gorgeous made the situation a living hell. Having her spread out on his examination table felt like a direct assault on his self-control. "Save the chatter," he barked. His voice came out thick and gravelly as his Adam's apple bobbed heavily. He snapped on a pair of sleek latex gloves, picked up a sterile medical swab, and slowly parted her slick folds. Natasha squeezed her eyes shut, her cheeks burning with absolute humiliation. 'Even my own husband has never seen me spread open like this.' Now she was baring her most intimate, dripping wet c0re for a complete stranger. Telling herself he was just a medical professional did nothing to ease the mental hurdle. "Ah!" A needy, w3t m0an slipped past her lips the second he touched her. The sound was incredibly sweet and drenched in pure lvst. A hard jolt of electricity shot straight to Jared's groin. His entire body pulled taut, and he slightly withdrew his fingers. "Did I hurt you?" Natasha looked up at him, her beautiful eyes clouded with a glassy, desperate haze. She parted her flushed lips but could not find the right words. Her brain knew she needed to hold back, but her body was completely starved. The pathetic, delicate way she looked up at him while leaking onto his table was enough to drive any man wild. "I'll be gentler," Jared said, his voice rough as he cleared his throat. "I will go gentler then." Jared cleared his throat roughly and forced his gaze away from her flushed face, focusing entirely on probing her sensitive flesh. When the intrusive exam finally ended, the withdrawal left Natasha feeling painfully hollow. Her clit throbbed, completely unsatisfied. "Doctor, is it really bad?" she asked, a noticeable tremble wrecking her voice. Jared ruthlessly reined in his raging erection and slowly peeled off the slick latex gloves. "You are dealing with severe pelvic congestion and a hormonal imbalance. "It is a direct result of chronic sexual deprivation." Natasha lowered her gaze, a flash of humiliation burning her pretty face. 'Deprived? Try nonexistent.' It was not just a lack of s3x; she was practically a v1rqin. Percy was a severe germaphobe. From their very first date to their wedding night, he rarely ever touched her. But the extreme deprivation only fueled her dirty cravings. It felt like every cell in her body was screaming out, absolutely desperate to be grabbed, fked, and filled. "I am prescribing some anti-inflammatory medication to help regulate your hormones." Jared sat down at his computer to type up the script. "But my professional advice is to go home and get laid. "Have your husband fk you on a regular basis, and your symptoms will clear right up." Natasha's face was already burning crimson. She slid her panties back on and climbed off the examination table. Taking the prescription slip from his hands, she murmured, "Thank you, Doctor." The exact moment she slipped out of the clinic, a female doctor in a white coat barged in through the back door. "Jared, did you seriously examine my patient behind my back?" Sharon Rundell snapped, furiously scolding her younger brother. Jared leaned back, completely unfazed. "Need I remind you I was always top of our class in med school, while you were forever stuck in second place? "Me giving your patients free pelvic exams is a blessing for them. Besides, I own this entire hospital now." "You arrogant bastard!" Sharon glared at him. He was totally twisting the logic to suit his ego. Still, she had to admit it was wildly out of character. Jared was notoriously a ruthless germaphobe who kept women at an icy distance. The fact that he willingly touched a female patient's intimate areas today was bizarre. "Since my help is clearly unappreciated, I will take my leave." Jared shoved one hand deep into his pocket, his dark, predatory gaze still locked onto the hallway where Natasha had just disappeared. "Where do you think you are going? I dragged you here today to meet the new cardiologist, Dr. Wayland." Sarah hurriedly stopped him, desperately trying to play matchmaker. "She is young, stunning, and absolutely brilliant. "She is the hottest catch in the hospital, and most importantly, she is single." "Maybe some other time." Jared brushed her off without a shred of interest and strolled right out the door. Chapter 2 Natasha snatched her prescription and practically sprinted out of the hospital. Her cheeks burned fiercely as her mind replayed the humiliating scene. A male doctor had just commanded her to strip off her panties and spread her legs for a highly intimate exam. She would absolutely die of shame if anyone found out. Biting her lip, she made a silent vow. 'Next time, I am demanding a female doctor. I will never let a strange man look between my legs ever again.' Just then, a sleek black Bentley glided to a stop right in front of her. Assuming it was her rideshare, Natasha leaned in and peered through the tinted glass. She expected a random driver but was instead met with a devastatingly handsome face. His sharp, chiseled jawline and piercing eyes were completely flawless. Their gaze locked for a split second, sending a jolt of recognition straight to her core. Her breath hitched in her throat. 'That intense stare. Is that the doctor who just had his fingers inside me?' A fresh wave of heat flooded her face and neck. Gripping her purse tightly, she cursed her luck. 'Of all the people to run into, why the hell is it him?' "Get in. I'll give you a ride," Jared ordered, his voice a low, gravelly rumble. Natasha frantically shook her head and took a step back. "No, thanks. I'm perfectly fine." She crossed her arms defensively over her chest. 'I don't even know this guy. Why would I get into his car?' Not to mention the incredibly n@ked, vulnerable position he had just seen her in on that exam table. He was the absolute last man on earth she wanted to interact with right now. All she wanted to do was run for the hills and pretend they were total strangers if they ever crossed paths again. Jared narrowed his eyes and arched a single, arrogant eyebrow. A heavy, intensely dominant aura radiated from him. This was the very first time a woman had ever dared to turn him down. Natasha sensed his growing displeasure but stood her ground. "I really don't need a lift. My husband is on his way to pick me up right now," she blurted out, waving him off awkwardly. She made sure to put heavy emphasis on the word "husband." The underlying message was crystal clear. She belonged to another man. A faint, icy smirk curled the corner of Jared's sensual mouth. Without another word, he commanded his driver to pull away. Natasha finally exhaled a shaky breath as she watched the Bentley disappear down the street. But her temporary relief quickly gave way to deep anxiety as her mind drifted back to his blunt medical diagnosis. He had flatly told her that her bodily dysfunction was directly caused by her severe lack of a s3x life. The pills would only manage the symptoms. If she wanted to be completely cured, she needed to be properly fked by a man on a regular basis. Her husband, Percy, was flying back from a business trip tonight. She had to jump on this opportunity. Wasting no time, Natasha headed straight to the closest high-end lingerie boutique. She picked out a sheer, slvtty nightgown that Percy used to like, along with a heavy, seductive perfume designed to turn men on. Once back at their house, she pulled out a bottle of vintage red wine she had been saving for years. Her plan was incredibly simple. She would get Percy loose with a few drinks, wait until he was buzzed, and then drag him into bed. The glaring problem was Percy's extreme germaphobia and his deep aversion to physical intimacy. For the entire first year of their marriage, he had coldly rejected every single attempt she made to get him hard. The endless sexual frustration and rejection had taken a massive toll on her body and mind, ultimately triggering this humiliating condition. She had absolutely no choice but to play dirty. Stepping back to admire the dimly lit bedroom, Natasha realized just how terrified she actually was. This was the first time since their wedding night that she was actively plotting to seduce her own husband just to get laid. Her heart pounded relentlessly against her ribs. Trying to steady her shaking hands, Natasha poured herself a heavy glass of wine to take the edge off. *** Percy got back from his business trip at eight o'clock that night. A sharp click broke the silence as the pitch-black bedroom was instantly flooded with bright light. Natasha jerked on the mattress where she had been faking sleep. She fluttered her eyes open, her gaze instantly drawn to the towering, broad-shouldered silhouette filling the doorway. "You're home, baby," she purred. Tossing the heavy duvet aside, she scrambled out of bed and hurried over to him, her face lighting up with eager anticipation. Percy narrowed his eyes. He took a slow, sweeping look at her plunging burgundy negligee. The rich silk contrasted sharply with her creamy, porcelain skin, clinging tight to her curves and leaving absolutely nothing of her stacked, luscious body to the imagination. Paired with that innocent, doe-eyed face of hers, she looked like an absolute wet dream. As she closed the distance, a heavy wave of intoxicating perfume washed over him. The scent immediately triggered a hot, primal throb of male lvst low in his gut. There was no denying it; the woman standing right in front of him was dripping with s3x appeal. She was a flawless, mouthwatering mix of pure innocence and filthy temptation. Yet, she was definitely not his type. The fleeting flash of raw hunger in his eyes quickly vanished, instantly replaced by freezing detachment. Percy shoved her away on pure instinct. "I'm exhausted," he said. His blunt rejection felt like a bucket of ice water dumped over Natasha's burning excitement, but she refused to just give up. Her body was practically vibrating with need as she reminded herself, 'This heat inside me will not wait. I have to get fked tonight.' Besides, she had dressed like a complete slut and set up this entire romantic trap specifically for him. She absolutely was not going to back down now. "Come on, let me give you a hot massage," she offered in a soft, sultry voice, boldly reaching out to grip his muscular arm. "Don't bother." Percy ripped his arm out of her grasp with a look of utter disgust, brushing off his sleeve as if he had just been touched by absolute trash. Without another word, he marched straight toward the master bathroom. The moment he brushed past her, Natasha caught a very clear whiff of women's perfume. It smelled elegant and incredibly expensive. It definitely was not her signature scent. She froze in place, deep suspicion flashing through her eyes. 'Is he screwing someone else behind my back?' she wondered frantically. But then reason kicked in. Percy was constantly attending corporate dinners and networking events. Catching a stray scent from a random woman in a crowded room probably did not mean a thing. She took a deep breath to comfort herself, 'He is a massive germaphobe. He refuses to even touch his own wife. Why the hell would he put his hands on some random b1tch?' Shoving the paranoid thought aside, she walked over to the dresser to pour a heavy glass of red wine. She decided to stick to her original game plan: get him blind drunk first. Half an hour later, Percy finally stepped out of the steaming bathroom. He was wearing absolutely nothing but a plush white bathrobe. The belt was completely untied, putting his sculpted, rock-hard chest on full display. His tanned skin looked sinfully appetizing under the warm bedroom lights, naturally dragging her hungry gaze down to his thick, muscular thighs. Combined with his gorgeous, completely emotionally unavailable face, Natasha was mesmerized. Her mouth instantly went bone dry. Maybe it was because they had gone without s3x for so long, or maybe his constant rejection just made seeing him half-naked that much more of a turn-on. Her dirty imagination started running completely wild. Natasha swallowed hard, her eyes accidentally dropping past his deeply cut V-line to zero in on the heavy bulge resting right between his legs. A shiver went down her spine as she realized, 'Holy fk.' Her uncontrollable physical cravings were definitely getting stronger, making her core throb and ache with an agonizing need. "What the hell are you staring at?" Percy's voice snapped through the room, deep, harsh, and chilling. Natasha physically jumped, instantly snapped out of her h0rny daze. "Nothing," she lied, shaking her head frantically. She was terrified he would realize just how desperately wet she was for him and find her even more repulsive. Forcing a bright smile, she grabbed the glass of wine and confidently walked over to him. "Want a drink, babe?" She knew Percy always needed a stiff drink before bed. But tonight, he just stood there staring at her in dead silence. Natasha felt a sudden, sharp stab of panic. Her heart hammered in her chest as she panicked, 'Did he figure out exactly what I'm trying to do to him?' "Percy..." she purred, pressing her soft curves closer to his hard body in a desperate last-ditch effort. She was just about to push the liquor on him again when he suddenly turned his head, sweeping his eyes over her with a heavy, unreadable gaze. "It is late. Are you coming to bed or what?" he asked, his tone cool. A massive thrill of surprise shot straight through Natasha. She immediately assumed he meant he actually wanted to fk her. She slammed the wine glass down on the nearest nightstand. "Yeah, I am coming to bed right now." Bubbling with eager excitement, she reached out to crawl right onto the mattress. But before her fingertips could even brush his bare skin, Percy snatched her wrist in an iron grip. He raised a highly mocking eyebrow. "You didn't honestly think I was going to fk you tonight, did you?" Chapter 3 Natasha's face froze. Percy didn't miss the flash of profound disappointment in her eyes, but his expression remained icy. "Sorry. I've told you a million times. I'm a germaphobe." "But Percy, please. I..." Natasha pleaded, her voice thick with desperation. After a year of zero intimacy, her body was trapped in a state of agonizing hyperarousal. Her core throbbed relentlessly, demanding to be filled. She simply couldn't hold it back anymore. "Just do me this favor, baby. Please. I'm so wet it hurts." She bit her lower lip, staring up at him with pitiful, tear-filled eyes. Her chest heaved with shallow breaths. She craved c0k so badly. Her mind was utterly consumed by the need to get laid, spiraling entirely out of control. Percy's brow furrowed in deep disgust. He loathed the way she acted like a shameless slvt in front of him. "If you're really that h0rny, go find a way to get yourself off," he snapped. His cold, contemptuous words struck straight at the most vulnerable part of Natasha's heart. But Percy remained completely blind to the agonizing hurt painted across her face. He just offered a chilling warning. "And don't ever wear lingerie like that in front of me again." The desperate glimmer in Natasha's eyes instantly died, replaced by a suffocating wave of sorrow. Her own husband still refused to touch her. "I understand," she murmured, lowering her head. Her voice sounded entirely drained of life. "Another thing. Starting tonight, we're not sleeping in the same bed," Percy added, shooting her another look of pure revulsion. Natasha's head snapped up in shock. "Percy?" 'Is he actually moving out of our bedroom?' she thought, her heart sinking. "I'm taking the guest room. From now on, you are not to step foot in my space without permission." Having delivered his icy ultimatum, Percy got out of bed and walked out without a single backward glance. Natasha was left standing there in a daze while hot tears blurred her vision. They had been married for a year. The complete lack of s3x, coupled with Percy's glacial indifference, had driven her body into this feverish state of constant arousal. Yet Percy showed absolutely zero interest in satisfying her needs. Instead, he chose this exact moment to kick her out of his bed. For Natasha, it was a devastating blow. The faint warmth in the master bedroom vanished the second Percy left, leaving the air bitterly cold. But the scorching fire between Natasha's thighs didn't recede at all. In fact, it roared to life. Percy's cruel rejection stung her deeply, triggering an even fiercer wave of pure, physical lvst. She felt incredibly frustrated, her entire body wracked with a hollow, maddening ache. Biting back a whimper, a desperate thought crossed her mind. 'God, it hurts. I just want to be fked.' Her cheeks flushed feverishly hot. Unbidden, her memory flashed back to the clinic earlier today. She pictured herself lying on the examination table, spreading her legs for that male doctor. 'Oh my god!' Natasha instinctively shook her head. 'Why the hell am I thinking about him? 'I am a married woman. How could I catch myself getting off on the thought of another man? When did I become so brazen?' But then again, Percy refused to lay a finger on her. Being married to him was no different than being single. Try as she might, Natasha couldn't stop her mind from drifting back to Jared. She vividly remembered the moment at the hospital entrance when he offered her a ride. She had finally seen his full face without the surgical mask. He was drop dead gorgeous. Way hotter than Percy. A wicked fantasy slipped in. 'If only he could be the one to stretch me out.' Natasha slammed the brakes on her filthy thoughts. Even though Percy wouldn't touch her, she couldn't lvst after a stranger. It was basically emotional cheating. But her throbbing clit was completely out of her control. With trembling hands, she pulled open the nightstand drawer and grabbed her favorite vibrator. For the past year, whenever Percy rejected her and the aching need flared up, she had always rubbed herself out while picturing her husband. Tonight, however, felt dangerously different. As she pressed the buzzing toy against her soaking panties, the man filling her mind wasn't Percy. It was the hot doctor, Jared. *** It took Natasha a long time to come down from her 0rgasm. A faint trail of drool glistened at the corner of her mouth, her limbs feeling completely heavy and drained. Gasping for air, she knew she couldn't keep living like a frustrated nun. She scrambled out of bed, digging through her purse for the anxiety meds she had picked up from the clinic today. There was no water left in her room. Slipping a silk robe over her n@ked shoulders, she headed downstairs to the kitchen to take her pills. Passing by Percy's bedroom, she stopped dead in her tracks at a suspicious, muffled groan. Natasha was no innocent virqin. She knew exactly what those low, guttural grunts meant. She immediately peeked through the crack of his door. In the dim light, Percy sat on the edge of his bed, his fist pumping his hard c0k as he stared at a photograph. His Adam's apple bobbed, his voice rough and thick with lvst. "Fk, Joelle. You're my wife. I only want you... I only love you..." A loud ringing exploded in Natasha's ears. Her eyes widened in absolute shock. Her stomach dropped. 'Joelle? she thought, feeling sick. Roxanne's daughter? The golden heiress of the Whittier family?' Her father, Bernard, had essentially lived a double life. His legal wife, Roxanne, had Joelle Whittier. His longtime mistress, Sandra Gideon, gave birth to a son, Collin Whittier, and a daughter, Natasha. Since Collin was the only male heir to the Whittier empire, Roxanne legally adopted him right after birth. Natasha, the unwanted bastard daughter, was left behind to grow up with Sandra. But growing up, Sandra Gideon never showed Natasha any affection. But even her own mother despised her. Sandra clearly favored Collin and kissed ass to Roxanne's daughter, Joelle, far more than she cared for her own flesh and blood. Sandra didn't give a sh1t about Natasha's marriage, leaving the arrangement entirely up to Bernard and Roxanne. Before marrying Percy, Natasha had done some quiet digging. She only agreed to the wedding after confirming he was in love with "the Whittier girl." Back then, she foolishly assumed he meant her. Now she realized what a pathetic joke that was. Tears pricked her eyes. 'The woman he's obsessed with is my older half-sister,' she realized with a sickening jolt. Percy was an illegitimate son himself, a bastard whose social standing wasn't nearly high enough to marry a true socialite like Joelle. So, he settled for the next best thing and chose her instead. Ever since the wedding, Percy refused to fk her, claiming he was a severe germaphobe. And Natasha had actually bought his bullsh1t. Only now did she realize how incredibly naive she had been. He would rather jerk off in the dark than lay a single finger on her. Her nails dug into her palms. 'He is saving his d1ck for Joelle,' she thought bitterly. Growing up, everyone in the Whittier household worshipped Joelle. Her father treated her like a princess. Both Roxanne and Sandra treated her like absolute royalty. Natasha was always the extra baggage, the one nobody wanted. She honestly thought getting married would be her fresh start. She never imagined Percy was secretly lvsting after her sister, too. A bitter wave of irony washed over Natasha. Hearing Percy m0an Joelle's name over and over again felt like a series of vicious slaps across her face. In a daze, her mind drifted back to all the times Percy visited the Whittier estate before their wedding. Back then, he was gentle, patient, the perfect gentleman. Every time he came over, he brought her thoughtful gifts. That was exactly why she had fallen for him. But now the ugly truth was staring her right in the face. He never came to the estate for her. He was only there to see Joelle. Chapter 4 It was a sleepless night. The deep, throbbing ache between her thighs and the heavy emotional blow Natasha had taken made catching any real rest impossible. Thankfully, she still managed to make it to work on time the next morning. But the moment Natasha stepped into the office, she could tell the vibe was completely off. "We are getting a brand new CEO today. Just parachuting right in," her work bestie Dorothy Stetson whispered, dropping the massive news. So that was it. A massive corporate shakeup. No wonder every single woman in the bullpen had a compact mirror out and was frantically touching up her lipstick and pulling down her cleavage. "Natasha, what the hell are you doing? Hurry up and get ready!" Dorothy scolded. Seeing Natasha's utter lack of enthusiasm, she grabbed her arm and shoved her into a rolling chair. "Your makeup is way too plain. Let me s3x you up a bit." Natasha quickly dodged the makeup brush and brushed off the panic. "What does a new CEO have to do with me? I have a mountain of paperwork to get through." Ever since college graduation, Roxanne had banished her to this dead-end subsidiary. The official excuse was that she needed outside corporate experience. The harsh reality was that the b1tch was keeping her as far away from the family empire, Whittier Group, as humanly possible. The main company was strictly reserved for her older half-siblings, Collin and Joelle, to inherit. As the unwelcome bastard daughter born to her father's mistress, Natasha was never going to get a seat at the big boys' table. It did not matter that she had always been at the top of her class, working twice as hard as her spoiled siblings. She was not the golden boy Collin, nor was she the pampered princess Joelle. So the second she got her degree, she was shut out of the family legacy. And her own mother Sandra, passive and weak as always, had not uttered a single word in her defense. Natasha was used to it. After a lifetime of eating sh1t, she had learned to simply adapt. Roxanne hated when she stood out, and Sandra would never fight for her. For the past two years, she had kept her head down, quietly working as an invisible, low-level clerk. She didn't fight for recognition. She avoided any potential conflicts of interest with Collin and Joelle. She was not gunning for a promotion, and she did not give a d@mn about a raise. Therefore, the arrival of some hotshot executive meant absolutely nothing to her. Dorothy pushed her firmly back into her seat and looked at her like she was insane. "You hear a new CEO is coming and you literally do not care? Do you have a pulse? "Every man and woman in this building is busting their ass right now to look fkable, hoping to catch his eye on day one. "I know you are naturally gorgeous with killer bone structure, but you cannot just let yourself go! "I did some digging. Word is the new boss is young, filthy rich, and incredibly hot. It definitely would not hurt to spread our legs a little if it gets us on his good side." Natasha felt a headache coming on. "Then you make yourself look pretty. I seriously don't need this, Dorothy. I have work to do." But Dorothy held her in place. "Look, if he doesn't want to screw me, maybe he will want you! I have finally figured out corporate here. Hard work and talent are bullshit. "Having a powerful man backing you up and slipping into your bed is the real key to survival. If the new CEO wants to fk us, no one in this hellhole will ever dare mess with us again." By ten o'clock, the ground floor lobby was absolutely packed. Everyone stood at attention, craning their necks toward the glass entrance, waiting for the VIP to arrive. Dorothy had ruthlessly elbowed her way through the crowd, dragging Natasha right to the front row. "We are way too close," Natasha muttered. She was just about to step back into the safety of the crowd when the new CEO finally made his entrance. A fleet of black SUVs flanked a sleek, ultra-luxurious Rolls-Royce, rolling to a smooth stop right outside the building. The heavy car door swung open, and a man stepped out. He was dressed in a razor-sharp tailored suit, his eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses. His frame was imposing, radiating a dominant, primal alpha energy that commanded instant submission. Flanked by a dozen intimidating bodyguards, he strode into the lobby like a king claiming his territory. The sheer display of raw masculinity was breathtaking. Every single person in the lobby stood frozen, completely captivated and deeply intimidated by the unapologetic aura rolling off of him. Instinctively, Natasha lifted her gaze to look at the man. The moment she did, her breath caught in her throat and her core clenched. Her eyes widened in absolute shock, her face locked in an expression of pure disbelief. 'How the hell is it him?' The newly appointed CEO was the exact same doctor who had examined her n@ked body at the hospital. Her mind reeled as she stared. 'How the hell is this possible? Isn't he a doctor?' Natasha was half convinced she was hallucinating. She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head, desperately trying to clear her vision. But when she opened her eyes again, the man had actually stopped walking. He was standing directly in front of her. Natasha's lungs completely forgot how to take in air. She watched helplessly as Jared slowly turned his head, his predatory gaze locking onto hers. At this distance, there was zero chance she was mistaken. The flawlessly chiseled jaw, the intense features. It was the undeniable star of the filthy, dripping wet fantasies that had kept her fingering herself and tossing all night. Her heart hammered against her ribs. 'It really is him. Oh my God. How is this happening?' Natasha's mind completely short-circuited, a loud, chaotic ringing echoing in her ears as the reality of the situation crashed down on her. Jared let his gaze drag over her body for barely a few seconds before looking away. He acted ice cold, totally indifferent, looking at her like she was just another nameless stranger. The rest of the staff finally snapped out of their collective trance, practically chanting in unison. "Good morning, Mr. Rundell." Watching his broad, muscular back disappear into the private executive elevator, Natasha felt her stomach drop completely. She pinched her own arm hard and winced at the sharp sting. 'Fk, that hurts. Definitely not a dream then.' Desperate for a way out, she clung to a shred of naive hope. 'Maybe there is another explanation. Maybe this new billionaire boss just happens to be a dead ringer for that insanely hot doctor. 'They have to be two totally different guys.' Dorothy, tugged on her sleeve with eyes full of suspicion. "Natasha, do you know the big boss?" Snapping back to reality, Natasha blinked. "What?" Dorothy leaned in, her eyes shining with absolute gossip. "I totally saw him stop and check you out just now. Do you think he wants to date you?" Natasha scoffed nervously. "Are you insane? You are definitely seeing things." Without waiting for a response, Natasha bolted for the ladies room. She cranked the faucet and splashed freezing water over her flushed cheeks, desperate to cool down her heated skin and get a grip. Back in the hallway, Dorothy stood frozen in confusion, muttering to herself. 'Did I seriously just imagine that?' *** By the time Natasha dragged herself back to the bullpen, the entire floor was already buzzing with juicy rumors about the new CEO. "Did you guys hear?" one of the girls gossiped loudly. "His mom is the Chief of Staff over at St. Joseph's Hospital, and his dad is that scary four star general you see on the news all the time. "He grew up on military bases, then went off to an Ivy League school and got dual master degrees in Medicine and Finance. "Word is he was supposed to take over his mom's hospital. God knows why he suddenly decided to run our corporate office instead." Natasha listened to the chatter, her blood turning to ice. The St. Joseph's Hospital was the exact same clinic she had gone to for her incredibly invasive, toe curling gynecological exam. So his mother ran the place, and he had a medical background. Gripping her desk, she panicked. 'I am so unbelievably fked.' All the evidence pointed to one terrifying truth. He really was the doctor who had his gloved fingers buried deep inside her slick wetness that day. It was her absolute worst nightmare coming to life. After that humiliating and highly arousing exam, she had sworn to stay off his radar forever. 'How could I have guessed he would drop out of the sky and become my boss?' Taking a deep breath, she tried to rationalize the situation. 'Well, at least he is the CEO at the very top of the food chain. 'I am just a nobody sitting in a cubicle. Our paths will literally never cross.' Barely a second after she managed to soothe her racing heart, her manager, Frank Hammers, marched over. "Natasha," he barked loudly. "The boss wants you in his private office. Right now." Natasha felt her eye twitch. The entire floor went dead silent. Every single colleague snapped their heads around to stare at her in pure, unadulterated shock. She sucked in a sharp, ragged breath, her heart plummeting straight into her shoes. Trembling slightly, she accepted her fate. 'Sh1t. I really cannot escape him, can I?'

😍🔞I bought him for the night.He took it as permission to ruin me.The moment the door closed, he chained my wrists above my head. “Little redhead,” he whispered, “why does a delicate human tremble like an omega in heat?” I should’ve been terrified. But his scent, his voice, the way he scraped his fangs along my throat— it lit something feral inside me. He promised to drag the truth out of me, one sinful sound at a time. What he doesn’t know is the truth he’s hunting— the runaway princess— is already moaning beneath him. ------------------------------------------- Chapter 1 KAT “You look perfect, Princess Katerina.” My fists clenched tightly in my lap. I had to make a conscious effort to breathe and calm myself. Perfect. I looked like a doll. The kind meant for display, pristine and never touched. The useless kind. Pale porcelain skin with the finest makeup applied so expertly that it looked seamless. Big blue eyes with lashes that didn’t need extensions. Plump red lips with the usual polite smile. “Thank you,” I answered, nodding at the makeup artist. “They’re waiting for you downstairs. Should I call your brother to accompany you?” My fists balled again. Lordswood Castle was more secure than any fortress. Bugs couldn’t get in without stringent vetting and permission, but even that wouldn’t be enough to get them into the inner keep. Yet they still accompanied me everywhere like a child. Still, all of this was for a good reason. Every sacrifice would be worth it in the end. “That won’t be necessary. Thank you, Alanna,” I said as I stood. “But the Alpha said—” “I’m sure I’ll be fine,” I interrupted, maintaining the smile so deeply ingrained in me it felt fused to my face. I straightened the long skirt of my dress and adjusted my posture, although this was easy to do thanks to the corset. It was as stiff as a board; I couldn’t slouch even if I wanted to. Only sparing a glance in the mirror, I nodded at the team of women who’d dressed me and headed out of my dressing room. I did look perfect, I had to give them that. Not a single strand of blonde hair out of place, shoulders straight, head held high. And every piece of clothing on my body was worth more than most people made in a year. I was the prize. The one raised to be envied. To complete my true mate’s life. To be a trophy. A prisoner. My smile slipped, and my steps faltered at the door to my bedroom. I was being unfair. My life was a privilege; I had to be grateful. My parents loved me and gave me everything, and my dear brother, Kostas, would burn the world down for me if I asked. “Why do they even bother? She’ll be eighteen soon; I doubt a true mate will fall in her lap anytime soon. They’ve set their expectations too high; she’s just an omega.” My shoulders stiffened. They must have thought I left already. Omega. Weak. Doomed to submit to every wolf, a burden to the one I’d mate, yet the most treasured in my pack. The irony wasn’t lost on me. “Quiet! If you want to survive here, keep such thoughts to yourself.” “But everyone says—” “You’ll be out of the castle before lunchtime if you finish that sentence. Prince Kostas will make sure you never step foot through the complex gates again.” There was silence after that, but I wanted that woman to finish what she was about to say. Everyone said what? I was stuck in the inner castle most of the time, and no one dared say a word out of place. Gossip hardly ever reached my ears, but when it did, it was the boring type. I bit back a huff. It was unladylike. Mother would have a fit if she heard me. Squaring my shoulders again, I stepped out into the wide hallway alone. There was still a chill in the air outside as we welcomed the spring, but all the rooms in my wing were nice and toasty. My father hated it if I so much as sniffled. He hardly let me out in the winter. But spring was here. The flowers were starting to bloom. And that meant long walks in the gardens, and the Spring Ball. Some excitement after a long winter. Anything was better than sitting alone with my thoughts. My steps were steady as I approached the two guards in all black combat uniforms at the end of the hallway, and I almost laughed when they turned to me and stiffened. The panic on their faces was priceless. “Your Royal Highness, please wait here to be accompanied,” one of them said with a small bow. I knew they would mindlink my brother the second they saw me, but I was prepared. I quickened my steps past them and turned into the next hallway, where several other guards waited. It was overkill, but what was a girl to do? I was assigned more guards than the king and queen. How far could I go this time? The entry hall, perhaps? I half jogged past the guards, and was almost at the staircase when my brother's head appeared as he jogged to the top. Damn. I’d almost made it. Sighing, I slowed my steps and met my brother’s scowling face. “You didn’t wait for me, Katerina,” he said. “I walked down two hallways by myself, Kostas. If I can’t even do that, how will I ever take care of my mate?” Predictably, the scowl deepened, and I almost giggled. My brother was a handsome man. He was the complete opposite of me. Towering height, brown-eyes, curly brunette hair, and there was nothing delicate about him. He was a warrior, the Lordswood Pack beta, second only to my father with his intimidating aura. I’d been told that was true even if he stood in a room full of alphas. “He will have to take care of you,” Kostas said firmly. “And don’t forget, this castle will be your home.” Of course. How could I forget that even after the mating ceremony, I would live within the same walls? Maybe a new face would change things. Shake me out of the monotony. There were only so many languages and musical instruments I could learn, and I was growing tired of all the law, financial, and economics books. Perhaps once I was mated, they would allow me to apply my studies in practice. Or even learn something else, like training with the rest of the pack. Now that was a dream worth holding onto. Kostas linked our arms and started walking. “Remember what I told you about today,” he said. “There are others on the list, but this one is a good candidate.” They’d said that about all of them. I’d been meeting ‘candidates’ since I was five, first under the guise of playdates, and then openly as my potential future mates. Over the past few weeks, I had a date every day, sometimes twice a day. Mother was in panic mode. My parents were ready to seal my fate. Resisting the urge to sigh again, I smiled up at my big brother. “If you say he’s right for me, then he must be,” I said. “Of course he is. He has a bright future ahead of him. Currently top of his class and excels in his training. Only someone like that could be your true mate,” Kostas said, his scowl vanishing. He beamed down at me, and I felt the warmth of his love and protection. Every misgiving I had about these dates deflated as I squeezed his arm. “I bet he will make an excellent addition to our pack.” Maybe mating wouldn’t be so bad, after all. I knew my parents wouldn’t pressure me to have children too soon. They just wanted to make sure I was settled in any eventuality. The whole pack would respect someone they approved of, and a true mate would never hurt me. We descended the grand staircase slowly, into the entrance hall. It was almost noon, so the servants should have been busy preparing lunch or cleaning the hundreds of rooms within the great stone structure. But there was silence. Too quiet. A ‘mood’, no doubt orchestrated by my mother. This new date must have been very important to bring things to a halt like that. Or mum was just desperate. “The sun’s out today. We’ll meet him in the courtyard,” Kostas said. I gasped and stopped walking, gripping my brother’s arm. “Really?” I asked, holding my breath. “It’s a beautiful day,” Kostas said gently with an indulgent smile. “You should see the first blooms with your future mate. I already told them to prepare your cloak.” I ignored the optimism in his words and half-dragged him through the halls on the lower floor. The courtyard. How I’d missed that. Even if the date didn’t go as planned, sitting in the open with the sun on my face would make up for it. “Mum and Dad have official business, so they will meet him later for tea. Your chaperones are already waiting,” Kostas said, then added with a chuckle, “Slow your steps. Don’t be so eager.” Right. I had to be proper. I was Her Royal Highness Princess Katerina Lordswood of Kingsland. There should be nothing to criticise about me. “Sorry, brother.” I lowered my head as my chaperones approached, and one of them draped my warm cloak over my shoulders. “I’ll be close, so don’t be afraid,” Kostas whispered, kissing my forehead before he stepped back. His words sent a chill down my back, but I brushed them off. I was going outside! My first genuine smile since I woke stretched across my face as the doors were opened, and I finally felt the sun directly for the first time in months. I didn’t mind the slight bite on my cheeks as we stepped out into the cold. I was eager to meet the next man on my parents’ dating list, just to walk around the gardens. My step remained surprisingly steady, and I kept my hands together in front of me and my head lowered. A lady walked with grace. An Omega with humility. We walked along the paved path by the pond towards the main seating area until we reached my favourite cherry blossom tree right in the middle of the yard. My smile widened. The tree was blooming. Soon, the whole courtyard would be filled with the lovely scent of the flowers. A little boy stood beside it, admiring the tree, hands in his pockets. He was dressed in a suit, as most visitors did. I wondered who his parents were. Perhaps they were the ones the King and Queen were entertaining. I stopped beside him and breathed deeply. “Your Highness,” the boy said, stepping back from me and bowing. “No need to be so formal,” I said, smiling at him. He was curly-haired and pimply, his face suggesting he was no older than twelve or thirteen. He probably hadn’t shifted yet, but his alpha blood was undeniable. In a few years, my wolf would submit to his, despite my royal bloodline. I looked away from him and suppressed that thought. Happy thoughts only. Today was a good day. “What’s your name, little boy? Are you here with your parents?” I asked. Did my tone change to that annoying one adults used on babies? I cringed slightly when I saw the tick in his jaw and the way his fists balled up. Even his grey eyes grew colder. His anger was almost like a slap on my cold cheeks. Weird. He must have been too young to start learning how to control himself. It was more important for alphas, considering how much damage even their auras could do to weaker wolves. “I’m not a little boy, Your Highness. I’m fifteen. My name is Justin.” He looked at me expectantly. Was I supposed to know him? Were his family members of the court? My father’s business allies? I’d been memorising names and faces for so long that sometimes they just blurred together. Still, I couldn’t be rude. “Nice to meet you, Justin. Perhaps we will see each other again soon. I’m here to meet someone. My brother won’t be pleased if he finds you here.” I almost giggled at the thought of Kostas’ reaction once he found out someone had slipped past him. The inner courtyard was sacred. My gaze darted across the manicured space, eager to meet my millionth date and take him for a tour. Despite Kostas allowing me outside so soon, my time would be limited. I’d make the most of it. “I’m who you’re meeting, Your Highness. I’m your date.” My smile dropped. My face twisted before I could stop it, my eyes widening as I looked at the boy who probably still had his nose wiped by his mother. What. The. Actual. Fuck? Chapter 2 KAT No. No, no, no. This couldn’t be real. This had to be a prank. A test. I’d gone through so many dates that the pool must have shrunk to almost nothing, but there was no way my parents thought this snotty little boy was suitable for me. Goddess forbid if there was actually a spark of a bond with him. What the hell were they thinking? I’d be eighteen in a few days. This wasn’t just a bad match; it was illegal! “Princess Katerina?” His babyish voice cut through the horror spiralling in my head, and I quickly smoothed my expression, forcing it back into something polite. Something practised. “M—my apologies, Justin,” I said, looking back at the two chaperones nearby. One of them looked away, her mouth twitching. They knew. They knew I’d been buffed and fluffed for a mere little boy. Was I a joke? “Please,” I said, remembering my manners. “Let’s sit.” One of Mother’s best tea sets was already laid out on the table, and a servant waited at a respectable distance, ready to serve. As if the day wasn’t cursed enough, the sun slipped behind a cloud, taking its warmth with it. Justin smirked as he dropped into a chair across from me, his eyes drifting lazily around the courtyard. His earlier tantrum seemed forgotten as he slouched in his seat and chuckled to himself. Obviously, he knew nothing about etiquette. Nothing about him stood out besides his alpha aura. There was no way this kid excelled at anything. “This place is really cool,” Justin said, lifting the delicate teacup like it was a soda can. “I thought you’d be mated before my turn came around.” My cheek burned as embarrassment rolled through me. His turn? Anyone who made it on my parents’ list was privileged. Saying they were taking turns sounded too vulgar. It was as if I were some box to tick off. Like he was doing me a favour. I looked away and sipped my tea, too. There was a whole meal coming after that, but I’d lost my appetite, and I suddenly didn’t feel like walking with this boy. “You’re only a child. It was obviously a mistake,” I said calmly, keeping my voice even. I wanted to storm back into the castle and demand answers, but Mother had drilled it into me—poise, no matter what. I had a guest, so I had to entertain him, even if he was fresh out of nappies. I almost snorted, but swallowed it back. I had to endure this. So much for going for a walk. It would be like babysitting, and I really wasn’t in the mood for that. Still, this was better than the dates I’d endured the past week. A shiver rippled down my spine, and my hand trembled. The teacup clattered softly as I set it down, the uneven sound echoing across the courtyard. No. Not now. There was no point in dwelling on the past. “I’m not a child,” Justin said through his teeth, the earlier temper peeking through. Something about the flash in his eyes tugged at my memory. Why did that look so familiar? That thought brought me out of my head as I studied the kid again. Had I seen him at a ball? In the background, at a pack gathering I’d spied on from one of my windows? “But at least I’m getting this out of the way quickly,” Justin continued. “Gives me better odds of finding my mate when I shift.” Frowning, I met the brat’s gaze head-on, breaking another of my parents’ rules. “What do you mean by that?” “You know,” the boy shrugged. I didn’t. Wasn’t he there to see if he was a match? Then why was he still thinking of finding a mate when he shifted? Not that I would even entertain that thought, but what the hell? “Which pack are you from?” I asked, fingers curling in my lap. He was clearly uncultured to act like I wasn’t good enough for him. I was a princess! What could he possibly object to? “Ironbridge,” Justin answered, glancing around again before reaching into his pocket and pulling his cell phone out. He pointed the camera towards the cherry blossom tree as if it were a sightseeing tour. Unbelievable. The scenery was more fascinating to him than I was! At least he didn’t try to take a picture of me. How he’d snuck that thing into the castle was beyond me. Kostas banned recording devices because, in his words, “not everyone deserves to gaze upon your beauty.” I used to roll my eyes at that, but now I was grateful. I’d studied enough cases to know exactly how wrong it could get when someone captured the wrong kind of image. A guard materialised from some hidden place behind me and snapped the phone out of the kid’s hand. “Aw, come on,” Justin whined. “It’s just a tree.” The guard thumbed through something on the phone, frowning, and then slipped it into his own pocket. Guess the brat was shit out of luck. “Tell him to give me back my phone. I don’t know why they treat you like you hung the sun in the sky. I’m just like you, I’m a prince, too. My dad won’t let it slide if I say you stole from me.” “You’re an alpha’s son?” I asked, even though comparing any other alpha in the kingdom to Father was treasonous. But Mother branched into the farther territories years ago. This brat could very well have been a real prince, a son of one of the neighbouring three kings. Justin leaned back, folding his arms as if he owned the world. “Yeah. Alpha Carter. You don’t want to piss him off.” A sharp noise cracked the air. I blinked. The handle of my cup had snapped in my hand. I loosened my grip and let the pieces fall onto the table while my eyes widened at the boy before me. My pulse pounded in my ears. I couldn’t breathe past the lump forming in my throat. A memory flared. A different date. Hair pulling. Greasy hand on my thigh. Rising further. That laugh when he told me what he would do to me. Twisting my hands together, I looked back at the guard. Of course this kid was a Carter. Not a real prince, not even close. Alpha Carter would never be an alpha king in any lifetime. No wonder this kid looked familiar. “You should have followed the rules,” I said. I was surprised that my voice remained steady. “They’ll check it and give it back to you at the end of our... meeting.” No way was I calling this a date. Especially now that I knew who he was. Anyone from that vile cesspit of a pack wasn’t worthy of setting foot through our complex gates, never mind sitting across from me. Didn’t Kostas think so? Had I really been reduced to this? Having him there felt like a betrayal. “My brother Aaron said you’re insane. I see it now,” Justin sneered. “Said you smiled like a robot no matter what he said to you.” My hands twitched. Aaron had said a lot. “And Samuel said there’s not much between your ears,” he continued. Pot. Kettle. Black. Samuel had the body of an alpha and the brain of a potato. He didn’t look or talk like he’d ever read a book in his life. Perfect gentleman when he wasn’t leering, but I struggled to keep my eyes open. “And Jake...” The smile dropped off my face completely. My skin crawled like a hundred baby spiders had just hatched on me. Justin saw it and laughed, glancing behind me, obviously calculating how much he could get away with. “Jake said you’d only be good for one thing.” My gaze snapped back to his. Blood rushed in my ears, and my vision sharpened. Only a few weeks until my first shift, and already the beast within me was stirring. If I lost control now and shifted, I could tear this degenerate pup apart. Because he was unshifted, he’d be defenceless. It would be like toying with a human. “If your brothers said all that, why are you here?” I asked. Behind me, I sensed my chaperones edging closer. Did they hear him? “You really don’t know?” Justin laughed, clapping his hands as if this was entertaining. “There’s a saying. Life isn’t complete until you’ve dated the princess. If you want to find your true mate, you have to dump her first.” Behind me, one of my chaperones—the one who’d struggled not to laugh when I met Justin—giggled. She knew! My cheeks flamed again. Humiliation rose in my chest. I dated these boys for a reason, for the good of the kingdom, but this was what they thought of me? My chest compressed, and I felt my heart shatter. Did my parents know? Did Kostas? The fury I’d been swallowing all morning while my maids wrapped me up for this boy returned a hundredfold, forcing me to my feet. “Mr Carter, we’re done here.” Justin stood, still laughing, and gave a mocking bow. Every part of me called out to slap that smug look off his face, but my hands remained clasped in front of me. Proper. Still perfect. Even as an inferno burned within me. “I wasn’t staying here long anyway. We’re obviously, thankfully, not true mates,” he said. “Hand me my phone back and wish me luck for my future, Princess.” “Good luck, Mr Carter,” I said, a smile still on my face. “You’ll need it to find anyone who’ll put up with that stench of manure coming from your mouth. You talk a lot for a child who’s mediocre at best. Unsurprising considering who your father is. I’ll remember your name fondly the next time Alpha Carter bows at my feet. Goodbye, little boy.” Chapter 3 KAT “Katerina, open this door.” I glanced up from my textbook, waiting. Was today the day Kostas finally lost his patience and broke it down? I’d avoided him for a week, hiding behind Mother’s endless matchmaking. She’d ramped it up again, so much so that it felt like that was all I did. Wake up. Dress. Date. Get humiliated. Start again. My fury still simmered inside me. My skin itched, ready to burst from the unfamiliar emotions I’d been struggling with, yet I knew what they meant. It was almost time. I wanted answers, a reason for this humiliation, but I couldn’t bring myself to ask. My omega wolf was already cowering. Hiding. Submitting to my family’s will, like I’d been taught my whole life. Kostas knew what the Carter boys had said and done. I was under no illusion that those guards who appeared out of thin air to save me during my date with Jake hadn’t reported everything. But he’d still set me up with another boy who had Carter blood running through his veins. My head was a jumbled mess. I'd never once doubted my family's love for me until my date with Justin; those questions kept circling my mind. All week, I’d caught the glances from the servants. Saw them whisper. I couldn’t hear them, my wolf hadn’t surfaced yet, but I felt their words. My humiliation was constant. I felt naked. “Katerina!” Kostas growled, louder now. Swallowing, I stood slowly, smoothed down my dress, and pasted my smile back on my face. “I’m sorry, Kostas. I had my music on,” I lied, pulling my earbuds out for show. My brother frowned, silent for a while, before he stepped into my room. He didn’t buy it. I'm sure he already knew I was avoiding him. “It’s the Spring Ball tonight. Mother prepared your dress and mask.” He sounded anxious. Uneasy. Why? I’d been attending for years, secretly at first, when I hid behind the curtains in the grand hall. When I turned fifteen, I was officially presented—fully masked—and finally allowed to accompany my parents and brother. Behind the anonymity of the masks, I gained a little freedom. “I know,” I said. “I'll be ready on time, you don't need to worry.” “Your birthday is in a few days. Are you feeling... anything?” “No,” I lied again. Did he see through that? His gaze didn’t linger on my face. Kostas sighed and walked over to my pile of textbooks. Even on such a day, my work had to be completed. “Everything I do is to protect you, Katerina,” he said, running his hands through his hair. “I know.” I just wasn’t sure anymore what they were protecting me from. “You didn't meet anyone you liked this week?” No. No stirrings of a true mate bond. They had all dumped me, the same as the ones who’d come before them. The same as the Carter boys. “No, but I’ll tell you the moment I like someone,” I said, smiling as I reached for his hand. “I'm sure I'll find my mate soon. Don't worry, Kostas.” “I would prefer it if we found him now. Before your wolf presents herself,” Kostas said. So that was the reason for the overkill with the dates? My birthday? Had I run out of time? Would they choose any wolf, rather than my true mate? Anyone would be forgiven to think some great calamity was going to fall on me if I didn’t get marked and mated before then. But what greater calamity was there than mating a wolf who would not respect my boundaries or look past the limitations of my wolf? “I’ll try,” I smiled, “but could we forget about that for tonight? Can we just have fun?” His smile returned, faint and wistful. “Sometimes I forget how young you are. Of course, Princess. Let your hair down tonight,” he said. “But be careful. Things outside our walls aren’t as settled as I’d want.” Kostas never talked about anything outside our walls. Could this be what had my family anxious? Lordswood was, after all, the largest pack in father’s kingdom, and our kingdom was the largest of the four. Our complex was like a city; we were self-sufficient. It wouldn’t be the first time another kingdom thought they could help themselves to what we had. Was I too arrogant to assume they were all anxious because of me? “Finish your homework. They’ll come to help you soon.” After he kissed my forehead, he left, and my burning questions remained unasked. I was almost afraid to hear the answers. An hour later, several maids came into my room, my new dress and accessories in tow. Usually, I loved this part, but this time, lead settled on the centre of my chest. I was too anxious. I didn’t care about the layers of sapphire silk, the delicate silver-threaded mask, or the jewels for my hair. My chest still hurt. But I didn’t dare ask the stupid questions. Did everyone attending the ball know about this saying? Did they all secretly laugh at me? I had no idea how I got from my dressing room to meet my parents at the top of the main staircase. “You look beautiful, Katerina,” Queen Maria said, taking my hands in hers. I couldn’t see her face behind her mask, only her red curls piled on top of her head, but tears shimmered in her green eyes just as they had all week. My head switched from my simmering fury to concern for her. But it switched back just as quickly when I remembered the Carters and all the other recent dates. They’d all been carefully selected by my mother’s own hand. “Thank you, Mother,” I smiled. “So do you.” Both my parents did. Father was a typical alpha, towering over all us, even Kostas. He looked more dignified with his blue royal mantle draped over his shoulders. “Don’t forget yourself tonight, darling. There are too many eyes watching.” Her words fed the dread that had been brewing in the pit of my stomach. All those eyes would indeed be on me, just as they had since I was presented. But would they be laughing behind their masks? “Yes, Mother.” “If you get into any trouble, return to your room. Kostas will take care of it,” Father said, his voice low but commanding. King Christos didn’t need to raise his tone to make people obey his command. His aura could silence armies; which was how he’d earned the right to rule all the packs in the north. I’d yet to meet anyone who was as strong as he was. Or as gentle. As if he’d known that he scared me, he gently patted my shoulder. This was why my parents wanted a true mate for me. So he could soothe me when I was in distress. So he could protect me. So he could keep me caged within these walls with the servants whispering behind my back. “Let’s go,” Father said softly. “Our guests are all here.” We descended together, my father leading, Kostas behind us. Perfect. Regal. I was sandwiched like the fragile princess I was. This was my life. Privileged. Beautiful. Like a colourful bird in a cage. My chest welled, almost unable to push this thought back down. Behind the mask, the smile was gone. I was a prisoner. I had to leave. The music swelled in the great hall, and couples twirled in the middle. But the colours blurred around me. I forgot all the things I loved about the Spring Ball as that decision echoed in my mind. Was I really doing this? I knew nothing beyond these walls. How would I survive? I left my mother’s side, picked a drink, and slipped away. I didn’t stop walking until I was in the main courtyard. Sighing, I drained the drink in one go and looked up at the sky. For years, I’d imagined what it would be like to walk out of the castle. To find myself so I could be my own person. I’d even planned every step of it. I already knew how to get the suppressants from the hospital and which clothes I’d pack. But I was not capable of anything else beyond that. I was not my own person. “If you sigh any louder, people might think I’m doing something inappropriate to you.” I froze. My breath hitched as I turned to the voice. He sat on one of the chairs along the wall, legs crossed, hidden in the shadows. A stranger, yet that voice sent a jolt down my spine. It was deep and velvety, the gentle chords almost pulling me in like a rope. Everything else faded into the background as I stepped closer to him. Who was he? There was something different about him. Something dangerous. I didn’t feel an alpha aura around him, yet I sensed his power. “There she is. I wonder if that’s her next date.” The familiar voices behind me pulled me back. Carter voices. The laughter that followed sent the fury crashing back into me. My hands clenched as I turned back inside. That was it. I was done. I was leaving. Chapter 4 HUNTER That scent. Molten amber, smoked vanilla, and something unexpected. Chocolate peppermint? It drifted closer, teasing my senses. Faint, missing the earthiness of a wolf, yet no less intoxicating. I dragged in a lungful before I could stop myself. But the woman turned from me in a swirl of silk, her chin high and back stiff as she stormed back towards the pretentious castle that the king of the north called home. Golden hair coiled like a crown caught the light, almost matching its brilliance to the jewels adorning it. I almost growled, the beast within me urging me to go after her. My grip tightened on the chair’s arms hard enough to hear the creak. This wasn’t why I was here. I had to focus. The laughter of some teenagers drifting back inside after the girl trickled past me. “I can’t believe they think anyone will want her,” a boy snorted. “Even with her dowry, she’s going to weaken any pack she bonds with.” Was that her? The elusive princess of Lordswood? The one paraded like livestock by that irreverent king? That kid was disrespectful, but he had a point. Her reputation was in ruins. No self-respecting man would sign up for this, whether he was a true mate or chosen. Sighing, I leaned back. With a flick of my fingers, Elijah stepped from the shadows, silent as ever, and handed me a file. The useless Lordswood shadow guards likely wouldn’t even know he’d been there. “You were right. He’s here,” my beta said. I didn’t need to open it. Of course I was right. Only a psychopath would dance beneath the king’s nose with a target on his back. But was he acting alone? That part wasn’t clear yet. The bastard was getting under my skin. I stood and passed him the file. “Should I follow you? They are watching you. It seems they’re expecting you.” “He won’t make a move tonight. He’s taunting me,” I growled, adjusting my suit. “And I don’t care if they’re watching me.” Who would dare move against me? “Will you take your turn with the princess?” My head snapped to Elijah as he vanished back into the shadows with a chuckle. My turn? The fact that King Christos even dared to put my name on that list was insulting. My mask was a gold skull, and possibly the most ridiculous thing I’d ever worn. Christos Lordswood had made such things mandatory since he presented his ‘precious’ daughter, and it was another kick in the balls. I’d ignored the invite for years for that reason. But this time, lives were at stake. But no one would believe that when they walked through to the grand hall. It was pure decadence. Gold, silver, and royal blues everywhere. Priceless ornaments and jewels displayed like trinkets. A live orchestra played trending renditions, while servers floated by with glasses of wine that most packs couldn’t afford in a lifetime. I’d bet the feast laid out was just as ostentatious. Christos had no respect for the suffering of others, and it seemed neither did the other alphas. They stood apart, surrounded by their own, the facade of unity glaringly obvious. The Spring Ball meant nothing when their egos filled the entire hall. Christos was the king of no one. They all liked to pretend I didn’t exist. Alpha Carter’s gaze flicked to me, and his pasty face turned paler. Smirking, I raised a flute to him, and the spineless alpha looked away. Sighing, I got back to work. Weaving through the guests, eyes and ears open, I caught nothing but useless conversations. No one would whisper about bloodshed within Christos’s polished walls. A flash of blue caught my eye, and I stopped moving. It was the princess no one wanted. She glided through the room, accepting the way the crowd parted for her as if it was her right, and stopped beside her brother, another unbearable prick. The Lordswood pack was full of them. “Are you alright?” Prince Kostas whispered. I caught his words even above the music and chatter. The princess nodded but didn’t speak. Still no voice. Her sighs had been soft and breathy, like the start of a moan. I shook that thought loose, but the curiosity didn’t let go of me. What did she sound like? Whiny? Arrogant? “Tell me when you have enough. We’ll head back, I can have dinner sent to your room,” Kostas said, resting his hand on the top of hers. My gaze narrowed at the protective way he touched her hand. They were siblings, right? Kostas had beaten the living shit out of anyone who breathed wrong around the fragile princess. Overkill, for sure, but what did I know? I didn’t have any siblings. “Did you meet anyone... special?” Kostas whispered. Oh. Was the ball another meat market? Another chance to find this elusive true mate? Shaking my head, I set down my drink and prepared to leave. There was nothing for me there. I was better off watching my suspects as they went. Masks concealed everything, and I had no scents to track. Then she spoke. “No. But I’d like to dance before I go back to my room.” Fuck me. The whispered words snapped my head back to the princess. I’d expected her voice to be soft and shy, but it was low and firm. Measured. Like honey dripping off a silver spoon. A contradiction. My beast reared up, focusing on the princess again. “There’s no one here worthy of a dance with you,” Kostas said. “Shall I have this honour?” No one worthy? Oh? Grinning, I stepped forward, ignoring the alphas and lunas who hadn’t bothered to greet me, until I stood in front of the siblings. “Your Highness,” I said with a bow, “may I have this dance?” The princess looked at her brother like she was waiting for his permission. Would the great Prince Kostas Lordswood let his baby sister dance with the devil? My aura was buried, but I had no doubt Kostas knew who I was. He knew everyone within a mile of his sister. Sure enough, when I met the prince’s gaze, there was enough ice in it to burn. And fear? His temple throbbed above the phantom mask covering half his face. Would he defy me? “Kostas?” the princess asked, pulling his focus. “It’s up to you, Katerina. I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to do.” She hesitated, and then the princess released her brother’s arm and held out her lace-covered hand. Kostas’s mouth twitched, and the air around him cracked with unrestrained power. Until Katerina whimpered and flinched. Of course. The fragile little omega. She couldn’t take any discomfort. Kostas smiled and masked his aura as he rubbed her back. “Go on,” he said gently. “Dance. I have some people to talk to.” Katerina half turned, as if she would follow her brother, but I caught her hand in mine. With her full mask, I couldn’t see her expression, but her body stiffened. The tempo of her heartbeat jumped. Blue eyes clashed with mine. Fire flared in her eyes briefly. Maybe it was a flash of light, because she lowered her head submissively and allowed me to lead. Like a good little omega. I almost snorted at my thoughts as I brought her to the centre of the room and turned to face her. And then that scent hit me again. Fuck. Why the hell had I allowed Kostas’ words to provoke me? I didn’t give a shit if the prince thought me unworthy. But there I was, drawing the princess closer, inhaling her scent like I would die without it. I didn’t miss the eyes on us. The orchestra played on, but the room went quiet. The dancefloor cleared, and just like that, it was just the two of us in the room. She was small. Fragile. Barely up to my chest, I could see the top of her head. My hand circled her waist, settling on her lower back, pulling her close. The beast almost purred. Why did she smell so good? Feel so good? Beneath the layers of her dress, the warmth of her body seeped into mine. The princess gasped and stepped back, head bowed. The music drifted to my ears again, reminding me of where I was. I was being inappropriate. Sullying the precious jewel of Lordswood. “Pardon me, Your Highness," I said, reclaiming her hand. This time, I kept a respectable distance. We moved through the steps, flowing seamlessly. Goddess, she fit perfectly in my arms. If I just leaned in, if I pressed my mouth to her neck and— No. My grip tightened on her lower back even as I tried to ease away from her. What the hell was this? She was unshifted. Too young. Inexperienced. Even though I was at least eight years older than her, I’d shifted way before my time. Besides, she was that fucker Lordswood’s spawn. The music changed, snapping my attention back to the room and the omega who still refused to meet my gaze. I didn’t want such a spineless woman in my bed. The packaging was beautiful; no one would doubt that. But the blood in her veins was rotten. “I suppose I can consider this my turn,” I said, my voice flat. The princess’s head snapped up. Blue fire spat at me, this time unmistakable. Her shoulders squared, and she clasped her hands in front of her. “Yes, please do. My brother was right, you are not worthy. Enjoy the ball, sir.” She turned and walked away like she ruled the realm. And fuck if that didn’t make my beast howl. Chapter 5 KAT I calmed my breathing before stepping into the family dining room. Mother and Father sat together, holding hands and laughing softly. Kostas stood at the window, wine glass in hand, eyes distant. He didn’t look like he belonged in the same scene. He was too still. Too serious. The moment Mother saw me, she rose with practised grace and opened her arms. “Darling, come here,” she said brightly. Kostas turned, the frown gone like it never existed. The three of them smiled as if they hadn’t seen the way the guests had avoided me at the ball. As if I hadn’t been the only royal they all pretended not to see. I returned Mother’s embrace, letting her subtle scent smother me. She wore an evening gown, dripping in crystals, despite it being a rest day. I’d gone simpler. No corset and no full face of make-up. Mother’s subtle frown at my dress didn’t need words. But I didn’t offer an explanation. It’s not like they’d ever given me one. “You were the belle of the ball last night,” Mother said, guiding me to a seat beside her. “I have a good feeling about your upcoming appointments.” My fingers twitched in my lap, but I kept the smile on my face. “Oh? Did you notice anything?” Father asked her before quickly turning his gaze to me. “Has your wolf shown herself, Katerina?” “Not yet,” I said, too quickly. “She doesn’t need her wolf now,” Mother said, brushing it off. “She’s so close to shifting, her true mate would have sensed her already. I wouldn’t be surprised if someone comes calling very soon.” My heart twisted. A true mate. The dream I was raised to chase. Yet... “You can’t be sure, Mother,” I said, sipping my wine. I was surprised my hand didn’t tremble. “We had the best of the best from all the territories under one roof. Of course I’m sure,” Mother said, placing her hand in mine. “Trust me on this.” For the first time in a long time, Mother wasn’t twitchy or close to tears. Could she really have sensed something? But no. She said the same thing about a dozen times a year. My happiness had depended on the queen’s fluctuating moods for as long as I could remember. We were always either ecstatic or disappointed. I was tired. “I trust you,” I lied with a soft smile, just as the servants arrived with dinner. Across the table, I met Kostas’ gaze. He hadn’t said a word since I came in. He hadn’t said anything since the man on the dancefloor had humiliated me in front of everyone. In front of all the ‘best of the best’ in the wolf territories. His turn, he’d said. That bastard was no different from Justin and his brothers. Kostas looked away from me and picked up his cutlery to start eating. “When your mate reveals himself, we’ll throw the grandest wedding,” Father beamed. “I’ll walk you down the aisle, just like I always dreamed. Kostas, have you finished overseeing the housing project? Every unit must be furnished.” My father spoke like it was a done deal. My true mate would live in the castle with me, and his pack would join ours. But what if he chose not to? What if he didn’t want my brother as their beta? My gaze drifted back to Kostas. He didn’t look at Father as he said, “Yes, everything is under control.” But Kostas was the smartest person I knew. Hadn’t this thought crossed his mind? Hadn’t it crossed any of their minds that no one would want to live with the joke of the kingdom? “Perfect,” Mother said, clasping her hands. “Our little butterfly will have everything.” I tuned them out after that. Mother’s endless plans for the wedding. Father’s constant tweaking of the security plans and living arrangements. I’d participated in the conversations enough times to know them by heart. By the time dessert plates were cleared and we moved to the lounge, I could barely keep my mask in place. My stomach twitched with nerves, and my pulse echoed in my ears. This was it. The last supper. Would I ever see my family again? Would they understand why I had to do this? Would they forgive me? How disappointed would they be when they learned that I didn’t want the life they had so carefully crafted for me? “Are you alright, Katerina?” I smiled at my brother over my book. “I am. But you seem tired, though.” Was he burning himself out again? When I left, who would remind him to take care of himself? “Things have just been a little hectic, but I’m fine.” Was he lying? “If it’s about my birthday, we don’t have to make a big deal of it. The Spring Ball was grand enough.” “Nonsense,” Father said. “It’s not every day a wolf turns eighteen.” As if triggered by my anxiety, my body started to betray me. My skin itched, nerves flaring under the surface like a thousand sparks. The lights pierced my eyes, and every sound stabbed into my skull. The world sharpened until I could make out the silver strands in my father’s blond hair. I could smell the blood in the steak we’d just eaten, still clinging to the air. And then it was gone. Cut off. Silent. “What will you do if this doesn’t work out?” I blurted. The room stilled. I watched that panic return in my mother’s gaze before she forced a smile. “You will find one, Katerina,” Father said, voice firm. “Even if I have to knock on every door on the planet.” I clenched my wine glass until my knuckles ached. I wanted to scream. To ask why this mattered more than how they let those boys treat me. How they let people whisper about me and turn me into a joke. Instead, I smiled, as if I were grateful, and sat in silence as the conversation returned to my birthday. When my parents decided to retire to their wing, I held on a little tighter than usual. Kissed their cheeks a little longer. Memorised their warmth. By the time Kostas walked me to the door, my cheeks were numb, and my tears were seconds from bursting out. “Rest well. Tomorrow will be busy,” Kostas said. “I will.” “That man you danced with last night,” Kostas started. My fists balled before I could stop myself. That grey-eyed bastard. I shoved my memories back quickly and composed myself. Now was not the time to remember how he held me. Or the way his scent messed with my head. “Did you feel anything? Did your wolf stir?” “Thankfully not,” I lied. “He was insufferable.” I couldn’t quite forget the way his scent tangled with something inside me. My brother exhaled, and I saw the tension drain from his body. Was that the reason he’d been so quiet all night? He never worried without a good reason, so my assessment of that man must have been right. He was just a scoundrel. Someone not good enough for me. Such a man would never be my mate. “If you ever meet him again, walk away,” Kostas said. Well, that was easy. I didn’t even know what he looked like. “I’ll never be in the same room as him,” I promised. Kostas paused, and I thought he might say more, but instead, he hugged me tight and pressed a kiss to my temple. “It will get better. I swear it,” he whispered before he released me. He didn’t linger after that, and my chest ached when I watched him walk away. My dear brother. Would he be okay? Dragging my feet, I walked into my room without bothering with the light and sank into my couch. The tears came, falling silently as they had done many times before. I sat for hours, unable to stop them, unable to stop the stabbing pain in my chest. When the castle finally fell asleep and the guards started their change of shift, I rose and crossed to the back of my dressing room. My bag was packed full of suppressants, and I’d swiped a change of clothes from the laundry room. There was nothing else left for me to do. There was nothing for me in this castle. In this kingdom. My only chance at freedom lay beyond the border, in the human world. With my steps light, I hid in the shadows until I slipped through the cracks of the life they built for me. I wasn’t their butterfly anymore. Chapter 6 KAT The mirror was cracked and too small to show much, but the green-eyed redhead woman staring back at me didn’t need a full reflection to know she looked damn good. Green eyes sparkled beneath the uneven bangs of my pixie cut and my smile was wide. I turned back to the mess behind me. Clothes piled on one side of the bed, textbooks and files on the other, and somewhere behind all that was my defunct kitchen. It didn’t matter. I was finally moving out of this shithole. Squealing, I plopped onto the clear patch of my single mattress and picked up my envelope for the hundredth time. My bonus. My big, fat, life-changing bonus. Eighty hours a week, blood, sweat, and tears for almost two years, and those higher-ups at the Bureau of Non-Human Affairs had finally noticed me. My name wasn’t on the case file, but I cracked their case. I was their fucking hero. I deserved this. Besides, I hadn’t worked so hard just to write my name down on some file. I’d done the impossible. Permanent hire before graduation? Done. Youngest recruit? Also done. All that homeschooling had come in handy after all. The smile faltered. My chest tightened. Tears threatened, but I shoved the thoughts away. Today was a good day. I was done surviving, I was ready to live. Grabbing my keys, bag, and helmet, I kicked dirty clothes out of the way and headed out. I guess I’d have to deal with the mess before I officially started work on Monday. I was down to my last office outfit. Or fuck it, I’d just buy new clothes. My laughter rang out in the hallway as I walked to the stairs. I was still laughing when I reached the basement parking lot. I’d buy enough clothes that I didn’t have to repeat the same outfits every week. An apartment with enough room to swing a cat. A double bed without a thin, lumpy mattress! Kat Munroe was moving up. “Looking good, Kitty Kat.” Rolling my eyes, I didn’t turn back as I secured my crossbody bag across and put my helmet on. Leather booty shorts, matching jacket, thigh-high boots, and a top that could pass for a bra. Not a corset in sight. “Where are we going tonight?” The voice sounded closer, so I had to look. I hadn’t made it this far by being stupid. Two guys, the usual suspects, walked out from behind two pillars like they were villains in a D-list movie. Long-haired jock types. The type of human trash the Bureau usually handed down to the local agencies. It was a pity they couldn’t handle humans themselves or I’d have turned them in for being assholes. “Todd. Sam,” I greeted with a nod. “Just going for some groceries. Why are you lurking in a dark basement?” The two delinquents grinned and came closer. “You promised we’d hang out, Kat,” Todd drawled. “You’re not going back on your word, are you?” “Forget your groceries,” Sam added. “We’ll feed you something better.” Creepy. Did that shit ever work on anyone? “Maybe tomorrow night,” I said, turning back to my bike and swinging my leg over it. The two were on either side of me before I could grip the throttle. “You keep brushing us off, Kitty Kat,” Todd said, grabbing the handlebars. “You think that will work forever?” My motorbike was my pride and joy. Gleaming red and black with polished chrome, and an engine that purred like a beast. I’d skipped meals and rent for her. How dare this bastard put his hand on her? “We promise you’ll enjoy it,” Sam added, grabbing the other handle. I’d had enough. Removing my helmet, I ran my fingers through my hair and then smiled at one and then the other. Television was a great thing. More educational than the mountains of books in my father’s library. In three years, I’d learned that using brute strength wasn’t the only way to win. But it sure did help. I swung my helmet and cracked it hard against Todd’s head. Then a punch to Sam’s ribs made him swear and stagger back. The engine roared to life beneath me, and I peeled out before the losers could react. My laughter echoed in the parking lot, rising with the growl of the engine. Three years ago, someone would have come out of the shadows to handle those two. But I wasn’t that girl anymore. I couldn’t be. I sliced through the Friday night traffic with that ache in my chest. As always, guilt tore at me. Had they stopped looking for me? Were they okay? Did they hate me? If I went back now, would they accept the new me? The bright lights of the city flashed around me as I parked my bike and took my helmet off. I couldn’t dwell on that. I was finally about to get the life I’d designed for myself. Now wasn’t the time to falter. Pulse stood like a beacon in downtown Greenville, with a line already forming at the wide doors. A crowd spilt onto the sidewalk, and I could already feel the thumping of the bass from outside. When it was my turn, I proudly took out my ID before they could ask me and grinned at the bouncers. Twenty-one. My birthday. In the human world, I was now old enough to drink. The bouncer looked between my ID and my face before he gave a low whistle. “Happy birthday, Kathrine Munroe.” “Damn right it is,” I said with a wink. The velvet rope lifted, and just like that, they let me into the heart of the beast. Bass, bodies, and neon lights hit me all at once. The air was electric, and energy pulsed through the air. It was chaos, and I loved every second of it. I threaded my way through the crowds towards the bar, my body swaying to the music. This was freedom. The opposite of every ball I’d ever attended. Except in one way. So many people, so much laughter, yet I was still very much alone. Finally leaning against the bar, I waited for the busy bartender to notice me before I slid a twenty across the counter. “Whiskey. Neat,” I shouted above the music before I leaned back on it to scan the club. As much as I loved the freedom to drink without restrictions, that wasn’t why I was there. I’d been too busy juggling my degree and my internship, and now I was about to get busier. This weekend was the only time I could let my hair down. The only time I could feel... something. Kostas would lose his shit if he knew. Instead of making me panic, a thrill shot down my spine. I was my own person. I could make my own choices. I scanned the room, my eyes skimming past the boys trying to be hard on the dancefloor, the men leering at the women from the walls, the ones being too loud, attention-seeking. Until my gaze stopped at him. He leaned against the far wall, half in the shadow, half under the flickering lights. Dark shirt unbuttoned just enough to hint at the muscles underneath, and pants tight enough to make my heart flutter. No loud colours like most of the men around him. No attention seeking. He didn’t blink often as he watched the crowd. He just stood still. Like he was waiting for something. Like he was hunting. My body lit up like I’d finally found the piece I’d been looking for. I picked up my whiskey and headed straight for him without hesitating. The closer I got, the more my body reacted to him. It had been so long since I’d felt anything remotely similar that I almost panicked. But I shoved those thoughts back. This had nothing to do with my beast. Those suppressants had worked for three years, and they would continue to do so. The man’s head snapped towards me, and fuck. I couldn’t stop the gasp. He was beautiful. Hair cropped short, stormy grey eyes smouldering, and a five o’clock shadow. Older than me, for sure. More experienced. I could tell by the way his gaze dipped slowly, dragging over me, before he met my eyes again. It felt like a caress. The heat that pooled in my stomach was instant. How did a man do that with just his eyes? I stopped in front of him and tossed back the rest of my drink. Liquid courage. “Seen something you like?” I purred. His mouth curved, just barely. “Maybe.” His voice was deep and smooth, and it struck something inside me. Had I heard it before? At work? Or in my lectures? I tilted my head to look up at him. I would have remembered if I’d ever met someone like him. Despite the chaos of the club around him, he remained composed. Restrained. If this weren’t a human club, I would have suspected he was something else. Was he hunting for a little something for the weekend, then? I was more than ready to be his prey. Stepping closer, letting my gaze eat him up like he’d done to me. Yes. Yes, he’d do. “Then what are you going to do about it?” I asked. “You tell me,” the man said. This was my cue. I’d studied all those smutty television shows just for this moment. “I’d like to buy you for the night.” His brow lifted slightly, and his mouth curved again. “You’re very blunt.” I shrugged. “It’s my birthday. I’m celebrating. If you’re not available, I can find someone else.” The little smirk fell off his face, and the air shifted. He stepped away from the wall slowly. Deliberately. I felt very much like his prey. My heart slammed against my chest when he stepped into the light. Goddess. He was even hotter up close. Sharp jawline, tall, broad shoulders. I felt his presence all around me. “And what exactly do you expect from me, birthday girl?” he drawled. My breath caught. Electric shocks zapped down my spine, and I almost stepped back. But this was what I wanted. “Surprise me,” I whispered. The man licked his lips. Then he reached for my empty glass and set it on a table next to us. “Come with me.” And I did. I followed the stranger through the crowd like I hadn’t watched hundreds of true-life documentaries about what could happen to me. Not because I was drunk. This wasn’t about rebellion. This was because, for the first time since I left home, I was going to do something I could never undo. I was going to give myself to someone other than my true mate.