C-Writes

I was born with the Midas touch—anyone who spends note on me ends up doubling their return. The happier I am, the more they earn. Only my boss, Ethan Vance, knows this. He values me a lot, even had me take my whole family on a company-paid trip. One rule: live it up, spend freely, and submit everything—no limit. This time, I spent 500,000 in one week. With my boss blowing up my phone, I rushed back to the office with a stack of receipts. But the accountant he assigned was gone. His fiancée suddenly showed up. She threw the receipts at me. "Why should your whole family's expenses be paid by the company?!" "Get out—and pay back every cent you took from the company!" "Or I'll make sure you end up in prison!" I laughed. "Fine. I'll pay it back. Every single charge." Let's see how long the company lasts once I start paying it back. I was born with a Midas touch. The more note someone spent on me, the more wealth they would pull in. Even better, my returns multiplied based on how happy I was. The only person who knew this secret was my boss, Ethan Vance. On my very first overseas trip, I ran up a 30,000 corporate expense report. That exact same week, our company's livestream raked in a staggering 3 mi11...ion. Within a single year, our bootstrapped startup exploded, hitting a massive 150 mi11...ion annual valuation. Last month, I took a two-week personal leave to visit my family out of state. During those fifteen days, the company didn't make a single dime. Terrified, Ethan personally drove out to pick me up, bringing my entire family along for an all-expenses-paid luxury vacation. His only condition was for us to eat the best food, stay at the finest resorts, and file the expense reports as quickly as possible. There was no budget ceiling. This time, I managed to spend 500,000 in just one week. Following a barrage of desperate, non-stop calls from Ethan, I headed straight to the office clutching a thick stack of invoices. But when I arrived, the dedicated accountant Ethan had assigned to me was nowhere to be found. He had been fired. Victoria Sterling, Ethan's fiancée, had suddenly parachuted in to take over. Before I could even speak, she slammed the 500,000 stack of invoices right into my face. "Why the he11 is this company paying for your entire family's luxury lifestyle?" she shrieked. "Before you drag your pathetic ass out of this building, you're going to pay back every single cent you stole from us!" "If you don't, I'll make sure you rot in a federal prison for grand larceny!" I actually smiled. "Sure," I replied smoothly, "I'll pay it back, line by line, according to the exact reimbursement records." I just wondered how many lines I would have to refund before the company went completely restart. ****** "Ms. Sterling, I need my corporate reimbursements processed immediately," I said, handing over the thick folder of receipts along with the company-issued credit card. "Also, please expedite the 500,000 advance back onto this card as soon as possible. Thank you so much." I offered her my most polite, professional smile, figuring that keeping things civil would prevent a scene. While I was away on leave, a company-wide memo had already gone out announcing her arrival. Victoria had formally stepped in as the executive vice CEO. Ethan, meanwhile, was preparing to head overseas to scout out a massive new global supply chain tech hub. Victoria's face remained utterly dark, her icy glare slicing through me like a scalpel. "Are you out of your mind, Chloe Hayes?" she sneered. "You expect this company to cover personal vacations for your whole family? Have you no shame at all?" Assuming she was Ethan's fiancée, I thought she would have known about the mutually beneficial arrangement between us. "Ms. Sterling, all of my personal expenditures have always been run through corporate reimbursement," I explained politely, keeping my composure. "Mr. Vance authorized this himself." Victoria stared at me for a few tense seconds before completely losing her temper. She snatched the neatly organized folder of invoices and threw them directly at my face. "Chloe! How can anyone be so utterly shameless?" she screamed. "The company hasn't seen a dime of revenue for nearly a month, and you have the nerve to ask for half a mi11...ion ?" The sharp edges of the paper stung, leaving my skin red and burning. "Ms. Sterling, as I said, these expenses were explicitly pre-approved by the CEO," I insisted, feeling a surge of frustration. "Please don't make this difficult. Just call Ethan, and he'll clarify everything." Victoria slammed her hand onto the desk, her voice rising to a piercing shriek. "Are you mentally unstable?" "You're draining our corporate accounts for your personal amusement, and you want me to call Ethan to validate it?" "Are you stupid, or do you think I am?" I had always been physically delicate, and her sudden outburst made my chest tighten with anxiety. Leaning against the edge of the desk, I struggled to catch my breath. "Ms. Sterling, it's the truth. Just call him to verify it. He explicitly ordered me to submit these as soon as I got back." Seeing that I was still using Ethan's name to push back, Victoria's face turned white with rage. "Chloe, I am Ethan's fiancée and the future First Lady of this company!" "As long as I'm running this place, don't you dare think you can siphon another dime out of our accounts!" With that, she grabbed me by the arm and dragged me out into the main bullpen. The atmosphere in the open office was incredibly oppressive. Because the company hadn't brought in any revenue for weeks, performance bonuses had been completely frozen, and the sales team's base salaries were about to be slashed. "Listen up, everyone!" Victoria shouted, capturing the attention of the entire floor. "I know everyone has been under an immense amount of pressure lately." "The company's numbers are down, and your bonuses are on the line, but I am not going to abandon you." "Chloe Hayes is a parasite. Over the past year, she has used fraudulent expense reports to steal mi11...ions from this firm!" Hearing her blatant lies, my blood began to boil. "That's a lie! I didn't steal anything!" I snapped. "Every single reimbursement was personally signed off by Mr. Vance. It's completely legitimate!" Victoria let out a cold scoff, looking at me as if I were a complete fool. "Since Ethan left the operations in my hands, I am going to make sure the staff is taken care of," she announced to the room. "I will personally claw back every cent she took, and a significant portion of those funds will be redistributed directly to you as bonuses!" The employees' eyes immediately lit up, and within seconds, the crowd turned on me. "Ms. Sterling, I've been sick of Chloe for months!" the sales director chimed in, eager to please the new boss. "She's supposed to be in sales just like the rest of us, but despite holding a manager title, she hasn't met a single client or closed a single deal all year!" The rest of the sales department quickly joined the chorus of complaints. "Exactly! The monthly quotas are brutal, and our pay gets docked if we miss them. Why does she get a free pass?" "She doesn't even have a performance metric! Someone like her should have been fired ages ago. She's just a corporate parasite!" In an instant, everyone in the department took turns kicking me while I was down, treating me like some sort of criminal. The suffocating weight of their words made it even harder to breathe. "How can you all say this? You weren't like this before!" I said, my voice shaking with indignation. "Ethan gave me an unlimited corporate account, and I used it to help all of you out. How can you turn on me now?" "When your department budgets ran over, I let you put those charges under my name so you wouldn't get penalized. Did you forget about that?" The sheer ingratitude cut deep. I had regularly bought them Starbucks lattes and covered catering for their afternoon meetings using my approved funds. The sales director's face darkened instantly. "Don't flatter yourself, Chloe," he spat. "You think a few cheap coffees can buy our integrity? Ms. Sterling just proved you've been bleeding this company dry for mi11...ions!" Clutching my chest, I closed my eyes and forced myself to take a deep breath. Yes, I had spent mi11...ions of the company's note, but my lucky charm status had brought back dozens of times that amount in pure profit. There was no point trying to explain the [email protected] reality to these people; they wouldn't understand it anyway. Once Ethan got back, everything would be sorted out. Opening my eyes, I forced myself to calm down. "I'm not going to argue with any of you. It's a waste of time." "Ms. Sterling, just process the reimbursement and transfer the funds. If you delay any longer, Ethan is going to be furious." Victoria's eyes widened in sheer disbelief and anger. "Are you deaf? You actually have the audacity to demand more note?" She paused for a moment, her expression twisting into something deeply venomous and jealous. "You keep throwing Ethan's name in my face. Are you just his glorified office side chick?" Before I could answer, she shoved me hard. My lower back slammed violently against the sharp corner of a nearby desk, causing a sharp gasp of pain to escape my lips. Seeing me stumble and collapse, the surrounding coworkers instantly scattered, backing away to form a ten-foot ring around me. "You gold-digging! You won't spend another dime of my fiancé's note!" Victoria shrieked. She grabbed a heavy stack of documents from a desk and hurled them straight at me. The sales team watched the papers scatter over me, completely unmoved. "Exactly! Ms. Sterling is Mr. Vance's fiancé and the rightful owner of this business," someone shouted from the back. "The company's cash belongs to her. You're just a shameless homewrecker!" Suddenly, a loud, sharp voice pierced through the commotion from the main entrance. "Who's the homewrecker trying to ruin my daughter's life? Show yourself before I tear you apart!" Victoria's eyes welled with tears the moment she saw the woman arrive. "Mom! It's her! She's the side chick Ethan has been keeping right under our noses!" "She's stolen over five mi11...ion from the company in less than a year!" "Ethan and I are supposed to be getting married. How could he do this to me?" I sat on the floor, gasping for air as a dull ache spread through my chest. "I'm not his side chick! I would never destroy anyone's relationship!" Eleanor Sterling marched over, her face twisted in pure rage. Without a word, she snatched a hot black coffee off a nearby desk and threw it directly into my face. The scalding liquid splashed over my skin, sending a jolt of shock through me. "My daughter and Ethan were college sweethearts. They've been together for eight long years!" Eleanor barked, glaring down at me. "Now that my future son-in-law has finally built a successful business, I won't let some cheap gold digger swoop in and steal the rewards!" With her mother backing her up, Victoria grew even more aggressive. "A splash of coffee is mercy compared to what you deserve," Victoria snarled. "Get on your knees, apologize to me, and return every single you stole, or I swear I'll have the police arrest you today!" Turning back toward the accounting office, she screamed at the top of her lungs. "Tracey! Stop wasting time and get out here right now!" "Bring me every single one of Chloe's expense reports from the past year!" Tracey, the accountant, shuffled out of the office, looking visibly conflicted and hesitant. "Ms. Sterling, maybe we should hold off on this until Mr. Vance returns," he murmured nervously. "Chloe's compensation structure is... highly unusual." As the head of acc...0unts since the startup's inception, Tracey knew the details of my monthly rewards, bonuses, and corporate reimbursements better than anyone. He understood exactly where every came from and went. Before Victoria could even snap back, Eleanor stepped into the accountant's face. "You're just a low-level bookkeeper! My daughter runs this place now. You do exactly what she tells you to do!" "Keep hesitating, and you can pack up your desk and be out the door by noon!" The sheer volume of her voice made the older accountant flinch. "Right away, Ms. Sterling," he muttered, quickly retreating. A few minutes later, he returned wheeling a large storage box filled to the brim with my invoices and receipts. Victoria grabbed a random handful and began tossing them into the air. "Look at all these luxury charges!" she shouted. "I've never met anyone as completely shameless as you, Chloe." "What even is this? Horseback riding lessons? Premium golf club memberships? Five-star spa resorts?" "A week-long getaway to the French Riviera? An Aspen ski trip?" As she read the line items aloud, her expression turned entirely pale with envy. The surrounding coworkers couldn't hide the raw jealousy gleaming in their eyes. "I knew it! You're definitely sleeping with the boss!" one of the sales managers yelled. "We've been busting our asses, working eighty-hour weeks and destroying our health for clients, while you've been traveling the world on our hard-earned revenue!" Driven by collective spite, several employees grabbed their remaining drinks and emptied them over my head. "Keep your cheap office favors to yourself!" "Working in the same room as you makes me sick!" The toxic insults and shouting blurred together, ringing loudly in my ears as my heart hammered violently against my ribs. "I quit!" I yelled, pulling myself up from the floor. "Even if Ethan gets down on his hands and knees and begs me to stay, I am done with this place!" "You're all a bunch of absolute fools. You have absolutely no idea how any of this works!" I turned to walk away, but Victoria stepped forward and slammed her hand onto my shoulder, locking me in place. "You don't get to just walk out! Nobody wants you here anyway." "But before you leave this building, you will refund every single processed through these reports." "If you don't execute the wire transfers right now, I'm calling the police to have you locked up for corporate fraud!" Her sudden shove sent me stumbling backward, landing right back into the puddle of coffee on the carpet. I had officially reached my absolute limit. I had never been subjected to this level of humiliation in my entire life. "Fine! I'll pay it back!" I shouted, staring up at her. "But you'd better be ready to watch Ethan's entire empire crumble into dust before he leaves you on the street!" "You and your mother can go beg for scraps on the corner for all I care!"

“Smile for the crowd, Ophelia,” he whispered, “You’re my Luna, remember?” Everyone thought our wedding would be the fairytale ending. But behind the vows, there were lies, betrayal, and another woman wearing my dream gown as a ‘bridesmaid.’ I learned too late that my Alpha’s love had always been a performance—one meant to make his first love shine. Now I’m walking down the aisle not as a bride, but as a ghost of the woman I used to be. Because by tomorrow morning, they’ll all realize... The Luna they tried to destroy has already disappeared. Just because I refused to let my Alpha mate’s first love be my bridesmaid at my bonding ceremony, that night, I was drgged and placed unc0nscious, half-n@ked, on a pool table. His friends laughed, measuring my 1egs with cue sticks, some even pouring cold liquor over my body. “One sh0t in!” Someone whistled. “With a beauty as company, my skills are improving!” My mate’s first love, Daphne, held up a phone, maliciously laughing in my ear. “A subst1tute is just a subst1tute. Like now, you're lying there, letting them do as they please—this is your true role!” My Alpha mate, Asher, thought that under the influence of the drg, I wouldn’t remember anything. He spent the whole night humiliating me, all to please his first love. What he didn’t know was that I had a natural resistance to ether-based drgs. When I woke up, I wiped away my tears and scheduled a surgery to get rid of the child. Back then, on the pool table, I gr0aned in pain, and Daphne playfully pouted, “I just wanna live the dream of walking the red carpet with Asher. How dare you, a subst1tute mate, say no!” Asher pulled her closer and rolled his eyes, casually saying, “She made Daphne unhappy, so of course, I had to punish her.” His friends laughed uproariously. “Don’t worry, we’ll make Ophelia beg for mercy! We’re all curious how Asher tames her to be so obedient.” Asher answered lazily, “I bought some toys to spice things up. She thought I cared for her, so she gladly accepted.” “True Alpha, staying so loyal to your true love! But… aren’t you worried Ophelia will find out about you severing the mate bond?” Asher smirked, clearing the last ball with a swift strike. “She dares? She’s just an orphan Omega who signed a bond-sealing deal with me and got pregn@nt. Now, she’s playing around like this. Who else would want her?” “To be honest, a pregn@nt Omega she-wolf smells bad. Every night, I almost puke.” “I disciplined her to make clear that being my Luna doesn’t give her the right to trample Daphne.” Somebody asked, “Alpha, those packages you had delivered to Ophelia... you specifically told the shop not to ship them anonymously, right? That’s why she lost her sh0t at the Top Warrior title. That was for Daphne too, wasn’t it?” Asher ran his hand over Daphne’s waist, smiling faintly. “Although the spot was already decided, if I didn’t ruin her reputation, how could I ensure Daphne wouldn’t be gossiped about after she was granted the top warrior?” Daphne looked embarrassed. “She said I demonstrated the move wrong. That embarrassed me. Asher was just giving her a little lesson!” My heart clenched. A scene in my memory suddenly struck me—dozens of transparent packages had piled up at the pack training ground entrance, and the pack members’ eyes were full of disgust. I felt heartbroken as I watched my beloved students drop my training classes. But I never expected this was all part of his scheme. The laughter continued in the pool hall as my heart sank. Asher seemed to remember something. He pulled a stack of photos from his pocket, and scattered them across my b0dy. “Callen, post these photos in the parent group. I want Ophelia to resign and go home, completely out of Daphne’s way.” “Wow, these were taken in the training field, full-body sh0ts, no face blurred!” “If those parents see this, they’ll go ballistic!” The laughter and shrieks grew louder and louder, and my tears fell without stop. Asher wasn’t like this before. Two years ago, his mother, our pack’s Luna, asked me to assist him before she fell into a coma from a car accident. I gave up my chance to become an Alpha king’s warrior, training our pack’s underage werewolves day and night, hoping they could become excellent warriors too. Asher was kind to me as well, always handing me electrolyte drinks before training. It wasn’t until the night we signed the bond-sealing deal that I learned Asher wasn’t just good in bed, his desires were just as strong. He bought plenty of toys and liked taking me to the training field after school and mak1ng 1ove there. I thought the wilderness excited him, but the real reason was to slander me in favor of Daphne… “Alpha, if Ophelia apologizes to Daphne tonight, should I still post them?” Asher didn’t hesitate. “Of course. You don’t know how upset Daphne was when she got kicked out of the bridesmaid group. She saved my mom from the accident, and I can’t let her be upset!” Daphne lowered her eyes, a faint, forced smile on her lips. Callen’s expression hardened, and he s1ammed the cue stick on the table. “B, how dare you bully the Alpha’s precious! You deserve to suffer!” Pain sh0t through me, and I passed out. The next morning, I woke up in my bed, my pajamas intact. Asher had already gone to the pack meeting. On the nightstand, as it had been for three unbroken years, sat a warm cup of electrolyte water. I hid under the covers and cried, then shakily called Mia, the pack member in charge of the ceremony. “Keep what Daphne ordered, and cancel my segment.” Mia paused for a moment. “Are you sure, Ophelia?” No wonder she was surprised. The bridesmaid dress Daphne ordered was larger than mine, decorated with rhinestones. The so-called bridesmaid even insisted on a 14-carat Oppenheimer pink diamond. At first, I didn’t know who she was. I asked Asher’s friends and learned she was his childhood sweetheart and first love. When I rushed to the pack’s planning room, I coincidentally walked in on Daphne proposing a “memorial for the first love” during the ceremony. Mia looked at me with hesitation. “Asher said our memories are too precious to not share at the ceremony. He’ll regret it for life if we don’t.” Daphne intentionally emphasized “for life,” ‘accidentally’ slipping a faded photograph from her bag. In the photo, young Asher was kissing the top of her head. While in these three years, he rarely kissed me. I stared at it, my chest tight, and gritted my teeth. “This isn’t appropriate. There’s no need for Daphne to be a bridesmaid.” Daphne didn’t get angry; instead, she smiled. “No worries, there will always be ‘surprises’ at the bonding ceremony, right?” As I left the planning room, my hands shook. That night, Asher comforted me, “You are right, the ceremony should go as you wish.” But when he thought I was asleep, he lowered his voice and made a call. “Go along with her. I’ll make her regret it. Daphne, don’t cry.” I froze. But if Asher liked Daphne so much, why did he keep saying that he loved me? That he only wanted to mark me and seal the mate bond with me for life? I suddenly recalled a conversation at a pack gathering when Gamma Leo had been drvnk. “Ophelia? If not for her assistance in securing Asher’s Alpha position, an Omega like her would never be a warrior trainer in our pack.” “Exactly, if Luna Isla hadn’t stopped Daphne from becoming our Luna, Ophelia wouldn’t have had a chance.” My heart twisted, aching so badly I could barely breathe. No wonder I was always the one handling the daily training, and Asher and Daphne were sent to visit with other packs. The public lessons I spent nights preparing were given to Daphne to showcase, becoming her capital for fame. I fled home and dialed a number. “Is the Lycan joint training program still looking for warriors? Tristan, I want to sign up.” Tristan’s voice sounded surprised. “Ophelia, you were always the best warrior in training camp. We’ve been hoping to recruit you!” After paused, his tone turning cautious. “But this program is in the Lycan region of Europe, requiring at least six months of residency. Are you sure about this?” I clenched the phone tightly, glancing at the bonding ceremony invitation Asher had casually thrown on the coffee table—Daphne’s name had been added back to the bridesmaid list. The scums who had humiliated me were also in the groomsmen group. The embossed letters burned into my eyes. “I’ve made up my mind. The sooner, the better.” After hanging up, I began packing my bags. When my collection of silk scarves spilled out, I realized, they were just the matching items Asher bought for Daphne’s bags. I snorted, throwing them all into the trash. When Asher returned home, he saw me curled up on the couch and frowned slightly. “What are you doing here? Are you feeling sick?” The sting on my body reminded me that what happened in the pool hall wasn’t a dream. I lowered my head, exhausted. “Asher, cancel all the orders online. I don’t want them anymore.” Asher paused, then realized, looking at the trash can filled with the little gifts he bought for me. “Honey, didn’t you say you liked how thoughtful I am?” His voice was soft, placating. I finally lifted my gaze to look at him. “I didn’t sleep well last night. My whole body hurts. Do you know why?” With three years of relationship, our mate bond, and the little life inside me, I’m giving him one last chance. Asher’s eyes flickered, and then he cooed, “Maybe it’s just pregn@ncy fatigue, honey. I’ll have the pack doctor come check on you.” I laughed hysterically, smashing the anniversary couple clay sculpture he made with my hands. Asher stared at a broken piece for a long time before hesitantly speaking, “Is it the pregn@ncy... making you feel this way?” I shook my head and slid the bond-breaking deal into a pile of training plans, pushing them toward him. He signed without looking, then gently massaged my head with his thumb. “Would you like me to run you a warm bath to relax?” A wave of nausea rose in my st0mach. It was those very hands, the ones that spread my indecent photos in the pool hall. It was that very mouth that spat out mean words and called me a used Omega. “I agreed to let Daphne be the bridesmaid.” When Asher heard this, he froze. “Why the sudden change of heart?” “I thought about it. Maybe I was too petty.” I forced a smile. “Besides, she’s your mom’s savior. I shouldn’t be so selfish.” Mentioning Luna Isla, Asher hesitated no more, holding me tightly and saying, “Ophelia, you’re so considerate! If Daphne hadn’t walked ten kilometers to get help for my mom, she might have been gone, instead of being in a vegetative state now…” I furrowed my brow, silent. After the accident, Luna Isla had been in a coma, and the details of that day were still unclear. “Don’t worry. I’ll take time off to be with you for the birth, take care of you and the pup.” Just then, Asher’s phone buzzed twice. He let go of me and quickly walked to the balcony. On the balcony’s monitor, Asher whispered, “Daphne, I told you I’d make your wish come true. No need to post those photos now.” A syrupy voice came from the speaker. “I don’t think so, Asher. You promised to make me the only excellent warrior trainer. Besides, if those photos go out, Ophelia will quit and stay in the pack house, focusing on you and the pup. It’s better for your little family, and it makes me feel better, isn’t it?” After a long pause, Asher sighed and agreed, “Okay.” Two minutes later, my phone rang like a death knell. I flinched, and the phone, along with my heart, dropped to the floor. [Daphne: Ophelia, what’s going on? Why did you take those disgusting photos?] [Hayden’s father: This is sick! How could someone like this teach our kids? How could she be our future Luna?!] [Mira’s mother: I’m going to Alpha tomorrow! Such unscrupulous trainer needs to be thrown out of the pack!] My teaching career, my reputation, was destroyed in minutes. When Asher returned to the living room, he glanced at the group chat and sighed. “Ophelia, I believe you. Tomorrow happens to be Daphne’s award ceremony. I’ll go with you to explain, okay?” I kept explaining, but the insults kept growing. A wave of exhaustion overtook me. “I don’t want to go.” Asher was surprised by my refusal, looking at me in disbelief. Then his gaze shifted to the mate ring on the coffee table, and he smiled knowingly. “You don’t have to worry about our bonding ceremony. The invitations have been sent, and it will be held as planned the day after tomorrow.” “You’re the Luna. If you don’t show up, the pack will talk. What will they think of Daphne? She’ll face suspicion because of you.” The next day, Asher dragged me to Daphne’s ceremony. As soon as we entered the pack hall, whispers filled the air. “There she is, sh@meless!” Asher’s friends ogled me, their eyes lingering on my waist and hips. My face flushed as I tried to turn and flee. “Ophelia, pregn@nt ones have bigger 1ust, I hear! If Alpha’s too busy, come find me, I’ll make sure you enjoy it.” “Ophelia, those photos were so creative. Teaching with a pup? You should be teaching performance art!” Asher seemed to ignore it all, staying silent. Daphne linked her arm through Asher’s, deliberately raising her voice. “I’m so glad Ophelia could come! I was worried that after those photos, she’d be too embarrassed to show up.” Gamma Leo immediately jumped in, “Hey, Ophelia, why bother wearing clothes when going out? That’s way too formal! It’s not like we haven’t seen it!” Laughter erupted around the room. Suddenly, a sharp female voice cu//t through, “It’s her! This sh@meless b seduced my son!” Before I could react, the she-wolf s1apped a diary page across my face. [The teacher let me touch her while giving private lessons... I couldn’t sleep at night.] Daphne gasped and covered her mouth. “Oh my goddess! Isn’t this Finn’s handwriting? He’s Ophelia’s student!” The she-wolf grabbed my hair and y@nked me toward her. “My son is only 16! You’re so desperate?” I trembled, staring at Asher, “It wasn’t me!” He knew I would never give private lessons to kids. All he had to do was speak up... But he glanced away, not even attempting to defend me. My heart died in silence. Daphne looked at Callen, who nodded slightly. In the banquet hall, a distorted m0an suddenly blasted out! My voice was processed by AI, twisted into an obscene mess, mixed with Asher’s friends’ whistles. I rushed toward the speakers as Asher stood up and walked toward me. “I don’t believe Ophelia would do something so indecent!” Just as Daphne shouted, she suddenly staggered back as if something had shocked her. “Ophelia, why did you push me?” Without hesitation, Asher turned and caught Daphne. When he looked back at me, all the guilt had disappeared from his eyes. “Daphne’s award ceremony has been ruined by the disgusting things you’ve done!” “Do you know she has heart problems? When she wakes up, you should apologize to her immediately!” Asher picked up Daphne and, before leaving, gritted his teeth at Callen, “Handle this.” Callen grinned, blocking my path and making a gesture to the female parent. My hair was y@nked painfully, and tears flowed uncontrollably. As they dragged me away, the bvttons on my clothes popped off. “The Alpha said to give Ophelia some dignity.” Callen fiddled with his lighter, the flame licking at my skirt. “Dignity… for a public shaming.” “I heard she even ordered sx toys for the pack’s training field. She doesn’t deserve to be a teacher, nor a future Luna!” Asher’s friends egged him on, “Str1p it off and let us see. She’s played around so many times, why pretend to be a v1rg//n?” I was violently touched and rubbed by the thugs, claws digging into my f1esh. I struggled with all my might when someone pushed me hard from behind, and my abd0men s1ammed into a metal flower stand. The sharp pain spread through my body, and warm liquid began to trail down my th1gh. “Asher!” I instinctively called out, but despair filled me when I realized he was already gone. “She’s b1eeding!” Amidst the screams, my c0nsciousness began to blur. When I woke up, the nurse told me the pup was gone. I felt a wave of sorrow. The surgery was scheduled for today. It seemed the pup also refused to be born into such a tragic family. My phone buzzed with dozens of messages from Asher. [Ophelia, where are you? I heard you made a fuss and broke a cup. You’re carrying a child, you should control your emotions! Daphne’s not feeling well, and I need to take care of her. The bonding ceremony will go on as planned. You should come to the venue.] The last message was half an hour ago. [How dare you not answer my calls? Know your place. You should be grateful I’m willing to hold a bonding ceremony for you, so stop acting up!] I deleted all the messages and called Tristan. “Tristan, I’ll be on time for the flight tomorrow.” On the day of the bonding ceremony, Daphne walked around in her rhinestone-encrusted bridesmaid dress, acting like the hostess. Asher kept glancing at his watch, his face growing darker. Guests began to whisper, wondering where his future mate was. His friends exchanged knowing glances. “Alpha, after the ceremony, can we have some fun? Ophelia in a mate dress would be great.” Asher’s face darkened. He roared, “Enough! After today, she’s my mate, your Luna. Don’t bring up the past.” Seeing some guests starting to leave, Daphne’s eyes gleamed with excitement. “Asher, Ophelia’s late. She clearly doesn’t want to be your Luna. Why not let me take her place as your mate?” She quickly walked toward the Luna’s waiting room. Asher opened his mouth to stop her but was interrupted by the sudden ring of his phone. It was the pack doctor calling. After picking up the phone, Asher eagerly asked, “What? My mother woke up? After three years in a coma?”

“Fat and weak, she’ll never be a Luna,” they whispered. I believed it once. But tomorrow night, everything changes. At the stroke of 11:12, I’ll shift into the legendary Wolf—the Moon Goddess’s chosen. No longer the ugly duckling, I’ll shine with bronze fur and fierce power. The same pack that mocked me will bow before the beautiful wolf I’ve become. And Cassian Mercer, the Alpha who rejected me at first sight? He’ll regret ever doubting me. Skyla’s POV “Skyla, Selene, Sebastian—get down here now!” our mom, Luna Camilla, shouted from downstairs. “Breakfast is ready, and we still need to go over the final details for your birthday party.” Oh, right! I probably should’ve mentioned this earlier—we’re triplets, and tomorrow we turn 18! It’s a huge deal in our world. Tomorrow, we’ll not only discover who our fated mates are, but we’ll also shift for the first time at exactly 11:12 p.m.—the minute we were all born. “Triple S, move it or you’ll be late for school!” That’s what Dad calls us when we’re dragging our feet. It’s his way of rounding us up all at once. While I’m getting ready, let me give you a quick intro to Triple S. First up: Sebastian, the oldest of us three. He’s a towering 6'8 with warm almond-toned skin like Mom’s, and he’s just as muscular and athletic as Dad. His piercing blue eyes are bound to make his mate melt the moment she meets him. He keeps his long dreadlocks meticulously groomed, and even though half the girls in school can’t stop f1irting with him, Sebastian’s saving himself for his mate. He’s not just my brother—he’s my best friend and the future Alpha of our pack. Then there’s me. I’m the middle triplet. I’ve got a golden-beige complexion and hazel eyes like Dad. Physically, I’m in great shape because I’ve been secretly training extra hours with Dad. You see, the Moon Goddess gave my parents a vision—my wolf is supposed to be something special once I shift. But no one really knows what I look like underneath my baggy hoodies and loose joggers. I wear oversized clothes on purpose—I’d rather avoid the stares. And I always wear glasses, which doesn’t help. People call me names—“homely,” “fat,” “four-eyes.” If only they knew the truth. And then, sigh, there’s Selene. She’s got radiant bronze skin, chestnut eyes, and long hair she always keeps sleek and straight. She’s undeniably gorgeous—but she’s a walking flirt. Lately, she’s been shamelessly chasing the future Alpha of the neighboring pack. Since their school burned down, we’ve been sharing a campus with their pack, and Selene treats it like her own personal runway. We finally make our way downstairs. Sebastian’s dressed in slim-fit jeans, a V-neck tee, and the brand-new Jordans that just dropped. I’m layered up in my usual oversized hoodie and loose joggers, rocking my trusty Vapormax sneakers—even though it’s blazing hot outside in Arkansas. Selene, true to form, is dressed like she’s headed to a nightclub—miniskirt, skintight low-cut top, and five-inch red heels. Time to head to school. I’m not a fan, but at least it’s our last year, and I’ve kept a perfect GPA. “Mom, Dad, I don’t want to ride with Skyla. She’s so embarrassing,” Selene complained. “Yes, you are riding with her,” Dad said firmly. “Your brother’s already gone and you’ve totaled three cars this year.” “STAY AWAY FROM ME AT SCHOOL, NERD!” she screeched at me as we walked out. Great. This is going to be a long day. But thank the Moon Goddess it's Friday! We finally make it to school, though Selene didn’t stop complaining the entire ride. I pulled into my usual parking spot—one of the designated spaces for Alpha family members—behind the wheel of my sleek black 2023 Dodge Durango SRT. Right beside me, Sebastian’s glossy black 2023 Jeep Grand Cherokee Trackhawk was already parked. Yeah, our parents are loaded. In the human world, Dad’s a wildly successful entrepreneur with more businesses than I can count. On the other side of Sebastian’s car sat a deep navy Tesla Model S, and the moment Selene squealed like she’d won the lottery, I knew exactly who it belonged to—Cassian Mercer, the future Alpha of the Bloodmoon Pack. I do my best to avoid Cassian. For some reason, he absolutely hates me. He leads the pack when it comes to name-calling and insults. It doesn’t help that our birthdays fall on the same day—tomorrow. His twin sister Alexia and I share the date too. Since our families are so close and Selene’s convinced Cassian is her mate, our dads decided to throw one massive birthday bash for all of us. Even though Cassian treats me like garbage, I won’t lie—he’s ridiculously good-looking. He stands about 6'8, just like Sebastian. He’s got these intense green eyes—yes, this smooth-skinned, bronze-toned man has emerald green eyes that could make you forget your name. His hair is always laid in tight waves, the kind you want to run your fingers through. And don’t get me started on those abs—always visible under those fitted tees he wears like a second skin. Wait. No. Snap out of it, Skyla. I hate him just as much as he hates me. Period. The moment I get to my locker, the usual chorus of insults begins. “Hey fatso, nerd, loser, four-eyes,” they snicker from down the hallway. They always wait until Sebastian isn’t around to start. Selene, her flock of mean-girl clones, and Cassian are always front and center in the cruelty parade. I never say a word. The unspoken rule around here? “Snitches get stitches.” But I’m not scared of them. Not one bit. My dad says I’m strong enough to take down anyone—even an Alpha. I’ve already learned how to make him submit when we spar, and that’s saying something. Cassian might hate me, but his twin sister Alexia? She’s my best friend. She’s always trying to get me to dress a little less… baggy. She wants me to ditch my oversized hoodies and definitely those chunky glasses. We’re werewolves, after all—I don’t actually need them. Alexia strolls up, slings an arm around my shoulder, and sighs. “Skyla, why do you let them treat you like that? You know you could wipe the floor with them. So why are you holding back?” I don’t answer her. Instead, I pull my books from my locker and say with a tired breath, “Let’s just go to class.” At least Alexia and I have every class together. That’s a win. My brother’s best friend Tristan—soon to be Beta—and his future Gamma Paxton are in my first few periods too. They always keep a close eye out for trouble and report back to Sebastian if anything happens, which keeps things fairly uneventful. It’s the only part of my day I can actually breathe without having to be on guard. Then the bell rings—lunchtime. Oh joy. Time to reunite with all my beloved peers at Blue Moon High. (Can you hear the sarcasm?) Right on cue, the fat jokes start rolling in. I brace myself. “Just ignore it, Skyla. You know none of it’s true,” I remind myself. And I do know it. But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt. What cuts deepest isn’t the cruelty from strangers—it’s the betrayal from my own sister. She laughs with them. Every. Single. Time. Alexia and I walk into the lunch room. "Alexia, why are you hanging with that l0ser?" "Hey biggie, you should skip lunch." "Alexia, sit over here with us and let the loser eat alone." Everyone is pointing and laughing. My eyes tear up but I won't give them the satisfaction of letting one fall. Suddenly, I'm no longer hungry and turn and run out only to run straight into someone landing straight on my ass. "Watch where you're going, frog!" Cassian shouts as he kicks me in the side. "I feel sorry for whoever will be tied to you as a mate. He's probably going to reject your pathetic ass as soon as he lays eyes on you. After all, who would want a weak, pathetic, fat four eyed frog as a mate. I bet you will be alone for the rest of your miserable life. Look at how you dress. Who would want to be seen with you?" Cassian continued to shout at me and then finally, he walked off after kicking me in the face. I know that will leave a nasty bruise. I stayed there for a moment wondering why people could be so cruel. Sebastian walks in and sees me lying in the hallway floor crying. He sits beside me and wraps his arm around me screaming, "Who did this to you Skyla?" Tristan and Paxton walk up and they are just as mad as Sebastian because they see me as their little sister as well. I don't answer. I just lean into Sebastian and cry. "Skyla, answer me, darn it! Who did this to you?" I cry even harder. He kisses me on my forehead and said, "I will leave it alone for now but if I find out who it is, they have a beat down coming!" I just mind linked my Mom and told her I didn't feel well and wanted to come home. My Dad is at the school in a meeting with the Superintendent about some rogue sightings at the edge of the woods closest to the school but I didn't want him to see me like this because it would be a lot to pay and I much as I hate Cassian, I didn't want him to die today if my Sebastian or my Dad found out. My Dad, is an Alpha that you don't want to mess with. Get your neck twisted if you tried. My Dad does not play about his princess. Yes, I'm a Daddy's girl in case you haven't figured that out yet. Mom told me I can come home; so, I'm out of this nightmare. Maybe she will let me skip the shifting night tomorrow night. Alpha Orion, Luna Jocelyn, Cassian, Alexia, his future Beta, Yale and future Gamma, Beckett will all be staying in our pack to help prepare for the shifting night. FML.....Why can't they have their own shifting night at the Bloodmoon Pack? Selene’s POV I’m sitting on Cassian’s lap in the middle of the cafeteria, my tongue halfway down his throat, when I spot my sister walking in—with his twin, Alexia. Without thinking, I start hurling insults at her. The whole table bursts into laughter. I know it’s cruel. I know she’s my sister. But I don’t care. Honestly, she deserves it. Dad treats her like she hung the moon. His little perfect princess. Sure, Skyla’s got the straight A’s, she follows all the rules, and does exactly what he asks—but still. I’m his daughter too. And what do I get? They handed Sebastian and Skyla brand-new cars as early birthday gifts. And me? I’ve wrecked four, and now I have to ride to school with her—just because Dad refuses to buy me another one. We’re rich. He could buy me one with zero effort. But no. He said if I want a new car, I can work part-time at his company like they do and earn the money myself. Absolutely not. Why should I slave away like some lowly pack pup when I know exactly what my future holds? I’m going to be the Luna of the Bloodmoon Pack—Cassian’s Luna. Their family’s just as wealthy as ours, and once we’re mated, I’ll never have to lift a finger. Skyla ran out of the lunchroom crying, just like I knew she would. She won’t say a word. I made sure she knows what’ll happen if she does. If she even thinks about telling anyone, I’ll make her life a living nightmare. More than it already is. Tonight’s the shift. Our eighteenth birthday. According to legend, one of us is destined to become the Golden Wolf—a powerful being blessed by the Moon Goddess herself. And I know it’s me. It has to be. Once I shift and it's revealed, everyone will see that I’m meant for greatness. Cassian and I will be unstoppable. The ultimate power couple. Skyla? Please. She’s weak. Soft. Pathetic. She couldn’t handle power if it begged her. Sebastian? He’s too gentle. Always fussing over Skyla, checking in on her like she’s some fragile little bird. Maybe that softness will make him a decent Alpha someday. He is a good big brother, I’ll give him that. Still... I can’t pretend I don’t feel the sting when I see how close he and Mom and Dad are with Skyla. But none of that will matter. Not after tonight. Not when I shift and the truth comes out. They’ll all see. They’ll finally see me. Just wait until they see me as the Golden Wolf. Luna Camilla’s POV It’s hard to believe the triplets are turning eighteen tomorrow. Feels like just yesterday when my mate and his father—who was still Alpha at the time—came to my old pack, the Silvermoon Pack, to formalize an alliance. Back then, I was just the Beta’s 19-year-old daughter, and Dorian Bellamy was a striking 21-year-old future Alpha. The moment our eyes met, we knew—we were mates. I couldn’t believe this tall, gorgeous, caramel-skinned man was mine. That night, while the rest of the pack slept, he snuck into my room. We kept doing it until sunrise. But the next morning, he shattered everything. He stood in front of me and said, "I, Dorian Bellamy, future Alpha of the Bluemoon Pack, reject you, Camilla Monroe, to be my mate and future Luna." I accepted his rejection with my head held high, refusing to let him see how deeply he’d broken me. What neither of us knew then was that he wasn’t just walking away from me… He was walking away from three lives growing inside me. Halfway through my pregnancy, the Bluemoon Pack held a ceremony to celebrate Dorian’s ascension as Alpha. My family was expected to attend. Though my parents already knew I was carrying a child, I begged them to let me handle things on my own. I told them if they didn’t, I’d run away. They respected my wishes and stood by me. As I was unpacking in one of the guest rooms at Bluemoon, Dorian barged in, fury in his eyes. He grabbed my arm roughly and growled, "You let another man touch what’s mine?" I yanked my arm away. “You don’t get to say that,” I snapped. “You gave up your claim on me the day you rejected me.” His voice dropped, and the golden hue overtook his eyes—his wolf had taken over. "Whose child is that, Camilla?" he growled. But I wasn’t scared—I was just as furious. Locking eyes with him, I said, “You’re the only man I’ve ever been with—if I can even call you that. You’re the sperm d0nor of my three babies. You rejected me, and that means you rejected them too. And you’ll stay far away from us.” Something in him snapped at those words. A single tear slid down his cheek before he leapt out the window, shifting mid-air into his powerful jet-black wolf, and vanished into the woods. As I prepare for my former pack to arrive for the party, all those memories come flooding back. It wasn’t easy for Dorian to win me back after what he did. But over time, I forgave him. We married before the babies were born—something not required in the wolf world, but Dorian wanted everyone to know I was his chosen mate, both in our realm and in the human one. And so, eighteen years ago, I officially became Luna of the Bluemoon Pack. And even after everything... I still love that fine Alpha of mine. Skyla’s POV The Night of the Shift It was 4 a.m., and I was wide awake. I still couldn’t believe we were finally eighteen. Even though we wouldn’t shift until 11:12 p.m., I knew I’d be able to sense my mate before then. Maybe—just maybe—it would be someone from my mom’s old pack. Someone who could take me away from this place. I had everything lined up to graduate early. I’d miss my mom, dad, Breck, and Alexia, but definitely not the rest of the scumbags around here. Since there was no way I’d fall back asleep, I decided to head down to the kitchen for a snack. Oreos dipped in milk were my favorite. I threw on my oversized hoodie and matching sweats and headed downstairs. But the moment my foot hit the bottom step, I was engulfed by the most intoxicating scent I’d ever smelled. It was a blend of musk and Savage—my favorite cologne. I recognized that cologne because my brother wore it sometimes, but this scent… this wasn’t Sebastian. This was something else. Something more. I stood there, completely mesmerized, drawn in by the mouthwatering scent, wondering who it could be. Was this love at first smell? Just as I was lost in the sensation, a sharp s1ap to my face snapped me back to reality. Before I could react, a hand wrapped tightly around my throat. Sparks shot through me—just like in the stories. Then came the words I think, deep down, I’d always feared were coming. “You of all people! You're nothing but trash to me. How could the Moon Goddess screw up this badly by pairing me with someone like you? You're weak. Fat. You have no class. You're a nerd. I wouldn’t be caught dead with a pathetic she-wolf like you! I, Cassian Mercer, future Alpha of the Bloodmoon Pack, reject you, Skyla Selene, as my mate and future Luna.” And that was it. Mates are supposed to be loving—gentle. What happened to the stories of love at first sight? I remembered my mom once told me how my dad had rejected her at first, but later asked for forgiveness, and he’d treated her like royalty ever since. But I would never forgive this guy. Ever. Even if he somehow did come crawling back—not that someone like him would. He’d been with Selene. I wouldn’t touch him with a ten-foot pole. Oddly, it didn’t hurt the way everyone said rejection does. What I felt wasn’t heartbreak. It was pure, burning rage. I tore his hand off my throat, locked eyes with him, and said, “Do you honestly think I’d want to be mated to you? The guy who spent the night with my skanky sister? The guy who’s treated me like garbage from the very beginning? I, Skyla Bellamy, accept your rejection!” Then I turned and walked back up the stairs, completely satisfied with the stunned expression frozen on his face. I’d forgotten all about my snack.

“Smile for the crowd, Ophelia,” he whispered, “You’re my Luna, remember?” Everyone thought our wedding would be the fairytale ending. But behind the vows, there were lies, betrayal, and another woman wearing my dream gown as a ‘bridesmaid.’ I learned too late that my Alpha’s love had always been a performance—one meant to make his first love shine. Now I’m walking down the aisle not as a bride, but as a ghost of the woman I used to be. Because by tomorrow morning, they’ll all realize... The Luna they tried to destroy has already disappeared. Just because I refused to let my Alpha mate’s first love be my bridesmaid at my bonding ceremony, that night, I was drgged and placed unc0nscious, half-n@ked, on a pool table. His friends laughed, measuring my 1egs with cue sticks, some even pouring cold liquor over my body. “One sh0t in!” Someone whistled. “With a beauty as company, my skills are improving!” My mate’s first love, Daphne, held up a phone, maliciously laughing in my ear. “A subst1tute is just a subst1tute. Like now, you're lying there, letting them do as they please—this is your true role!” My Alpha mate, Asher, thought that under the influence of the drg, I wouldn’t remember anything. He spent the whole night humiliating me, all to please his first love. What he didn’t know was that I had a natural resistance to ether-based drgs. When I woke up, I wiped away my tears and scheduled a surgery to get rid of the child. Back then, on the pool table, I gr0aned in pain, and Daphne playfully pouted, “I just wanna live the dream of walking the red carpet with Asher. How dare you, a subst1tute mate, say no!” Asher pulled her closer and rolled his eyes, casually saying, “She made Daphne unhappy, so of course, I had to punish her.” His friends laughed uproariously. “Don’t worry, we’ll make Ophelia beg for mercy! We’re all curious how Asher tames her to be so obedient.” Asher answered lazily, “I bought some toys to spice things up. She thought I cared for her, so she gladly accepted.” “True Alpha, staying so loyal to your true love! But… aren’t you worried Ophelia will find out about you severing the mate bond?” Asher smirked, clearing the last ball with a swift strike. “She dares? She’s just an orphan Omega who signed a bond-sealing deal with me and got pregn@nt. Now, she’s playing around like this. Who else would want her?” “To be honest, a pregn@nt Omega she-wolf smells bad. Every night, I almost puke.” “I disciplined her to make clear that being my Luna doesn’t give her the right to trample Daphne.” Somebody asked, “Alpha, those packages you had delivered to Ophelia... you specifically told the shop not to ship them anonymously, right? That’s why she lost her sh0t at the Top Warrior title. That was for Daphne too, wasn’t it?” Asher ran his hand over Daphne’s waist, smiling faintly. “Although the spot was already decided, if I didn’t ruin her reputation, how could I ensure Daphne wouldn’t be gossiped about after she was granted the top warrior?” Daphne looked embarrassed. “She said I demonstrated the move wrong. That embarrassed me. Asher was just giving her a little lesson!” My heart clenched. A scene in my memory suddenly struck me—dozens of transparent packages had piled up at the pack training ground entrance, and the pack members’ eyes were full of disgust. I felt heartbroken as I watched my beloved students drop my training classes. But I never expected this was all part of his scheme. The laughter continued in the pool hall as my heart sank. Asher seemed to remember something. He pulled a stack of photos from his pocket, and scattered them across my b0dy. “Callen, post these photos in the parent group. I want Ophelia to resign and go home, completely out of Daphne’s way.” “Wow, these were taken in the training field, full-body sh0ts, no face blurred!” “If those parents see this, they’ll go ballistic!” The laughter and shrieks grew louder and louder, and my tears fell without stop. Asher wasn’t like this before. Two years ago, his mother, our pack’s Luna, asked me to assist him before she fell into a coma from a car accident. I gave up my chance to become an Alpha king’s warrior, training our pack’s underage werewolves day and night, hoping they could become excellent warriors too. Asher was kind to me as well, always handing me electrolyte drinks before training. It wasn’t until the night we signed the bond-sealing deal that I learned Asher wasn’t just good in bed, his desires were just as strong. He bought plenty of toys and liked taking me to the training field after school and mak1ng 1ove there. I thought the wilderness excited him, but the real reason was to slander me in favor of Daphne… “Alpha, if Ophelia apologizes to Daphne tonight, should I still post them?” Asher didn’t hesitate. “Of course. You don’t know how upset Daphne was when she got kicked out of the bridesmaid group. She saved my mom from the accident, and I can’t let her be upset!” Daphne lowered her eyes, a faint, forced smile on her lips. Callen’s expression hardened, and he s1ammed the cue stick on the table. “B, how dare you bully the Alpha’s precious! You deserve to suffer!” Pain sh0t through me, and I passed out. The next morning, I woke up in my bed, my pajamas intact. Asher had already gone to the pack meeting. On the nightstand, as it had been for three unbroken years, sat a warm cup of electrolyte water. I hid under the covers and cried, then shakily called Mia, the pack member in charge of the ceremony. “Keep what Daphne ordered, and cancel my segment.” Mia paused for a moment. “Are you sure, Ophelia?” No wonder she was surprised. The bridesmaid dress Daphne ordered was larger than mine, decorated with rhinestones. The so-called bridesmaid even insisted on a 14-carat Oppenheimer pink diamond. At first, I didn’t know who she was. I asked Asher’s friends and learned she was his childhood sweetheart and first love. When I rushed to the pack’s planning room, I coincidentally walked in on Daphne proposing a “memorial for the first love” during the ceremony. Mia looked at me with hesitation. “Asher said our memories are too precious to not share at the ceremony. He’ll regret it for life if we don’t.” Daphne intentionally emphasized “for life,” ‘accidentally’ slipping a faded photograph from her bag. In the photo, young Asher was kissing the top of her head. While in these three years, he rarely kissed me. I stared at it, my chest tight, and gritted my teeth. “This isn’t appropriate. There’s no need for Daphne to be a bridesmaid.” Daphne didn’t get angry; instead, she smiled. “No worries, there will always be ‘surprises’ at the bonding ceremony, right?” As I left the planning room, my hands shook. That night, Asher comforted me, “You are right, the ceremony should go as you wish.” But when he thought I was asleep, he lowered his voice and made a call. “Go along with her. I’ll make her regret it. Daphne, don’t cry.” I froze. But if Asher liked Daphne so much, why did he keep saying that he loved me? That he only wanted to mark me and seal the mate bond with me for life? I suddenly recalled a conversation at a pack gathering when Gamma Leo had been drvnk. “Ophelia? If not for her assistance in securing Asher’s Alpha position, an Omega like her would never be a warrior trainer in our pack.” “Exactly, if Luna Isla hadn’t stopped Daphne from becoming our Luna, Ophelia wouldn’t have had a chance.” My heart twisted, aching so badly I could barely breathe. No wonder I was always the one handling the daily training, and Asher and Daphne were sent to visit with other packs. The public lessons I spent nights preparing were given to Daphne to showcase, becoming her capital for fame. I fled home and dialed a number. “Is the Lycan joint training program still looking for warriors? Tristan, I want to sign up.” Tristan’s voice sounded surprised. “Ophelia, you were always the best warrior in training camp. We’ve been hoping to recruit you!” After paused, his tone turning cautious. “But this program is in the Lycan region of Europe, requiring at least six months of residency. Are you sure about this?” I clenched the phone tightly, glancing at the bonding ceremony invitation Asher had casually thrown on the coffee table—Daphne’s name had been added back to the bridesmaid list. The scums who had humiliated me were also in the groomsmen group. The embossed letters burned into my eyes. “I’ve made up my mind. The sooner, the better.” After hanging up, I began packing my bags. When my collection of silk scarves spilled out, I realized, they were just the matching items Asher bought for Daphne’s bags. I snorted, throwing them all into the trash. When Asher returned home, he saw me curled up on the couch and frowned slightly. “What are you doing here? Are you feeling sick?” The sting on my body reminded me that what happened in the pool hall wasn’t a dream. I lowered my head, exhausted. “Asher, cancel all the orders online. I don’t want them anymore.” Asher paused, then realized, looking at the trash can filled with the little gifts he bought for me. “Honey, didn’t you say you liked how thoughtful I am?” His voice was soft, placating. I finally lifted my gaze to look at him. “I didn’t sleep well last night. My whole body hurts. Do you know why?” With three years of relationship, our mate bond, and the little life inside me, I’m giving him one last chance. Asher’s eyes flickered, and then he cooed, “Maybe it’s just pregn@ncy fatigue, honey. I’ll have the pack doctor come check on you.” I laughed hysterically, smashing the anniversary couple clay sculpture he made with my hands. Asher stared at a broken piece for a long time before hesitantly speaking, “Is it the pregn@ncy... making you feel this way?” I shook my head and slid the bond-breaking deal into a pile of training plans, pushing them toward him. He signed without looking, then gently massaged my head with his thumb. “Would you like me to run you a warm bath to relax?” A wave of nausea rose in my st0mach. It was those very hands, the ones that spread my indecent photos in the pool hall. It was that very mouth that spat out mean words and called me a used Omega. “I agreed to let Daphne be the bridesmaid.” When Asher heard this, he froze. “Why the sudden change of heart?” “I thought about it. Maybe I was too petty.” I forced a smile. “Besides, she’s your mom’s savior. I shouldn’t be so selfish.” Mentioning Luna Isla, Asher hesitated no more, holding me tightly and saying, “Ophelia, you’re so considerate! If Daphne hadn’t walked ten kilometers to get help for my mom, she might have been gone, instead of being in a vegetative state now…” I furrowed my brow, silent. After the accident, Luna Isla had been in a coma, and the details of that day were still unclear. “Don’t worry. I’ll take time off to be with you for the birth, take care of you and the pup.” Just then, Asher’s phone buzzed twice. He let go of me and quickly walked to the balcony. On the balcony’s monitor, Asher whispered, “Daphne, I told you I’d make your wish come true. No need to post those photos now.” A syrupy voice came from the speaker. “I don’t think so, Asher. You promised to make me the only excellent warrior trainer. Besides, if those photos go out, Ophelia will quit and stay in the pack house, focusing on you and the pup. It’s better for your little family, and it makes me feel better, isn’t it?” After a long pause, Asher sighed and agreed, “Okay.” Two minutes later, my phone rang like a death knell. I flinched, and the phone, along with my heart, dropped to the floor. [Daphne: Ophelia, what’s going on? Why did you take those disgusting photos?] [Hayden’s father: This is sick! How could someone like this teach our kids? How could she be our future Luna?!] [Mira’s mother: I’m going to Alpha tomorrow! Such unscrupulous trainer needs to be thrown out of the pack!] My teaching career, my reputation, was destroyed in minutes. When Asher returned to the living room, he glanced at the group chat and sighed. “Ophelia, I believe you. Tomorrow happens to be Daphne’s award ceremony. I’ll go with you to explain, okay?” I kept explaining, but the insults kept growing. A wave of exhaustion overtook me. “I don’t want to go.” Asher was surprised by my refusal, looking at me in disbelief. Then his gaze shifted to the mate ring on the coffee table, and he smiled knowingly. “You don’t have to worry about our bonding ceremony. The invitations have been sent, and it will be held as planned the day after tomorrow.” “You’re the Luna. If you don’t show up, the pack will talk. What will they think of Daphne? She’ll face suspicion because of you.” The next day, Asher dragged me to Daphne’s ceremony. As soon as we entered the pack hall, whispers filled the air. “There she is, sh@meless!” Asher’s friends ogled me, their eyes lingering on my waist and hips. My face flushed as I tried to turn and flee. “Ophelia, pregn@nt ones have bigger 1ust, I hear! If Alpha’s too busy, come find me, I’ll make sure you enjoy it.” “Ophelia, those photos were so creative. Teaching with a pup? You should be teaching performance art!” Asher seemed to ignore it all, staying silent. Daphne linked her arm through Asher’s, deliberately raising her voice. “I’m so glad Ophelia could come! I was worried that after those photos, she’d be too embarrassed to show up.” Gamma Leo immediately jumped in, “Hey, Ophelia, why bother wearing clothes when going out? That’s way too formal! It’s not like we haven’t seen it!” Laughter erupted around the room. Suddenly, a sharp female voice cu//t through, “It’s her! This sh@meless b seduced my son!” Before I could react, the she-wolf s1apped a diary page across my face. [The teacher let me touch her while giving private lessons... I couldn’t sleep at night.] Daphne gasped and covered her mouth. “Oh my goddess! Isn’t this Finn’s handwriting? He’s Ophelia’s student!” The she-wolf grabbed my hair and y@nked me toward her. “My son is only 16! You’re so desperate?” I trembled, staring at Asher, “It wasn’t me!” He knew I would never give private lessons to kids. All he had to do was speak up... But he glanced away, not even attempting to defend me. My heart died in silence. Daphne looked at Callen, who nodded slightly. In the banquet hall, a distorted m0an suddenly blasted out! My voice was processed by AI, twisted into an obscene mess, mixed with Asher’s friends’ whistles. I rushed toward the speakers as Asher stood up and walked toward me. “I don’t believe Ophelia would do something so indecent!” Just as Daphne shouted, she suddenly staggered back as if something had shocked her. “Ophelia, why did you push me?” Without hesitation, Asher turned and caught Daphne. When he looked back at me, all the guilt had disappeared from his eyes. “Daphne’s award ceremony has been ruined by the disgusting things you’ve done!” “Do you know she has heart problems? When she wakes up, you should apologize to her immediately!” Asher picked up Daphne and, before leaving, gritted his teeth at Callen, “Handle this.” Callen grinned, blocking my path and making a gesture to the female parent. My hair was y@nked painfully, and tears flowed uncontrollably. As they dragged me away, the bvttons on my clothes popped off. “The Alpha said to give Ophelia some dignity.” Callen fiddled with his lighter, the flame licking at my skirt. “Dignity… for a public shaming.” “I heard she even ordered sx toys for the pack’s training field. She doesn’t deserve to be a teacher, nor a future Luna!” Asher’s friends egged him on, “Str1p it off and let us see. She’s played around so many times, why pretend to be a v1rg//n?” I was violently touched and rubbed by the thugs, claws digging into my f1esh. I struggled with all my might when someone pushed me hard from behind, and my abd0men s1ammed into a metal flower stand. The sharp pain spread through my body, and warm liquid began to trail down my th1gh. “Asher!” I instinctively called out, but despair filled me when I realized he was already gone. “She’s b1eeding!” Amidst the screams, my c0nsciousness began to blur. When I woke up, the nurse told me the pup was gone. I felt a wave of sorrow. The surgery was scheduled for today. It seemed the pup also refused to be born into such a tragic family. My phone buzzed with dozens of messages from Asher. [Ophelia, where are you? I heard you made a fuss and broke a cup. You’re carrying a child, you should control your emotions! Daphne’s not feeling well, and I need to take care of her. The bonding ceremony will go on as planned. You should come to the venue.] The last message was half an hour ago. [How dare you not answer my calls? Know your place. You should be grateful I’m willing to hold a bonding ceremony for you, so stop acting up!] I deleted all the messages and called Tristan. “Tristan, I’ll be on time for the flight tomorrow.” On the day of the bonding ceremony, Daphne walked around in her rhinestone-encrusted bridesmaid dress, acting like the hostess. Asher kept glancing at his watch, his face growing darker. Guests began to whisper, wondering where his future mate was. His friends exchanged knowing glances. “Alpha, after the ceremony, can we have some fun? Ophelia in a mate dress would be great.” Asher’s face darkened. He roared, “Enough! After today, she’s my mate, your Luna. Don’t bring up the past.” Seeing some guests starting to leave, Daphne’s eyes gleamed with excitement. “Asher, Ophelia’s late. She clearly doesn’t want to be your Luna. Why not let me take her place as your mate?” She quickly walked toward the Luna’s waiting room. Asher opened his mouth to stop her but was interrupted by the sudden ring of his phone. It was the pack doctor calling. After picking up the phone, Asher eagerly asked, “What? My mother woke up? After three years in a coma?”

He ripped my only family photo apart—right in front of my face. I watched the pieces float down like snow. "That's all I had left." He didn't flinch. "Good," he said. "I hate you, Silas." He yanked my hair. "Funny. I hate you too." Then he leaned in close to my right ear. "But I'm still in love with you." He didn't know my left ear was already dead. I didn't hear a thing. They made me drink. Bottle after bottle. I puked b10od. He watched. "Stop faking," he said. Then the truth came out. "She's been in a juveni1e correct!0nal school for three years," Celia smiled. The video showed my sister ju.mping. Off a ro0ftop. Br.u!ses covering her tiny b0dy. "She said she didn't want to be your weakness anymore." I grabbed a rock. I swung. But his arms caught me. "Still haven't learned?" he snarled. He threw me to a blind begg@r. "Stay here. Never come back." I crawled to the pavement. V0mited b10od into the gutter. And smiled. Because I'm dying anyway. St@ge IV. Six months left. Let him think he won. Let him believe he broke me. But here's what he'll never know— My sister didn't jump alone. And I have proof. That video Celia showed me? It's already saved. To twenty different emails. Set to send. The moment my he@rt st0ps. Margaret Voss, the matriarch of the prestigious Voss family, had been in a vegetative state for ten years after being pushed down the stairs by an unidentified attacker. Now, she'd woken at last. Every prominent figure within Havenbrook Elite Circle flocked to the private medical wing of Havenbrook Premier Private Medical Center to pay their respects. They lined up to heap praise on Silas Voss, gushing over his unwavering devotion to his mother, and the ten years of relentless punishment he'd inflicted on the girl responsible for her fall. No one cared that the perpetrator had once been Silas's high school sweetheart. He'd shown zero mercy from day one. But once the crowd fell silent, Margaret stared blankly at all of them. "What culprit?" she murmured. "No one pushed me. I slipped and fell all on my own." A sharp clatter cv#t through the room. Silas's fruit knife slipped from his grasp and clattered against the marble tile. He stared at his mother, stunned rigid. "What did you just say, M0m?" The woman who'd left his mother bedridden wasn't Elowen? Panic crashed over Silas in a brutal, suffocating wave. He'd spent every single year of her coma hunting Elowen down, torturing her without pause. And now he was being told she'd never done a single thing wrong? "Where's Elowen?" Margaret asked, voice sharp with urgency. "I disapproved of you dating her back then, she came from a single-parent household, after all. I never imagined she'd dive straight into the lake to save my life when I fell in. Are you two still together? Married? Do you have kids yet?" Three simple questions hit Silas like three heavy sledgehammers to the ch3#&st. His throat bv/rned dry, and he couldn't force a single word out. Because three years prior, he'd forced Elowen to move in and live with a blind beggar out in Westside Slum Flats. *** Three years earlier. The Siren Lounge. Elowen scrubbed a grimy toilet, her oversized staff uniform swallowing her thin frame whole. When she finished, she sank to the cold tile floor, exhausted, and pulled a crumpled vintage Polaroid portrait from her pocket. The photo held Dr. Elias Hale, herself, and Lila, her little sister. "Elowen, one of the private booths has a mess of vomit. Go clean it up at once." Elowen tucked the Polaroid away carefully and stood fast. She'd been released on full parole three months prior. Her first plan had been to head straight to the State Youth Foster Facility to collect Lila. Staff there required proof of steady employment before releasing minors to former felons, though. Jobs were nearly impossible for her to land. She only held a high school diploma, paired with a felony record. Even diners refused to hire her as a line server. The Siren Lounge asked no questions about past mistakes, so she'd taken the janitor position without hesitation. A dozen young socialites laughed and shouted inside the private booth, playing cards and singing along to loud music. None spared the janitor a glance. Elowen dropped to her knees and mopped up the thick puddle of regurgitation. A male voice sneered out of nowhere. "Well look who it is—Havenbrook Private Preparatory's valedictorian, our campus sweetheart. Remember how she'd wipe any pen someone borrowed off her desk with rubbing alc0#&h0l? Now she's on her knees mopping up other people's puke without a word of complaint." Elowen recognized him instantly. Jasper Cole had once begged her to date him. When she'd turned him down, he'd smiled and claimed they could still be friends. After the incident with Margaret, he'd become her cruelest tormentor of all. The mess reeked, and Elowen quickened her scrubbing without a sound. Jasper kicked her hard square into the puddle of slop from behind. "Are you deaf when people talk to you?" "Ah!" Elowen bit back screams of pain and disgust, a bitter taste flooding her mouth. Deaf, wasn't she? Silas had locked her away on false charges, and within her first month in prison, a "workplace accident" orchestrated by his men had blown out her left eardrum entirely. Jasper raised his fist to strike again, but another old classmate pulled him back. "Quit wasting your energy on tr4#&sh like her." "Elowen used to be untouchable. Her mother passed young, but Dr. Hale was the most renowned cardiac surgeon in the whole city. She was gorgeous, top of every class, and Silas's whole world." "Now look at her—she takes every beating and insult without fighting back." He spat straight onto the top of Elowen's head. Once upon a time, she would've fought back without hesitation. Three years of relentless bullying at prep school, three more years of torment after graduation, and three full years locked behind bars had crushed every ounce of her pride to dust. If she'd had no one left to live for, she would've died fighting long ago. But she had Lila. Every time she dared stand up for herself, Silas sent word that Lila would pay the price instead. "Serves her right!" another voice shouted. "Silas nearly died rushing into the School Athletic Storage Wing fire to save her. He barely escaped with his life, and ran straight back in the second he heard she was still trapped inside. He's left a massive, raised scar across his entire back, and lost half his voice for six months after the sm0#&k3 inhalation." "And how did she repay him? Held a grudge over Mrs. Voss disapproving their relationship, and shoved her down the stairs while Silas recovered from surgery!" The group seethed with righteous anger as they recounted the story. Hv#&nd=r3ds of harsh stares bore into Elowen, dragging her back to the nightmare of her senior year. Everyone had pointed their fingers and screamed that she'd hurt Margaret Voss. Silas had believed every word, and hated her with every fiber of his being. With one single command, he'd destroyed Dr. Hale's reputation overnight, branding him a violent criminal until he took his own life behind prison walls. He'd turned Havenbrook Private Preparatory into a living h3#&11 for her, orchestrating daily beatings and harassment. She'd fought back at first, even tried to transfer schools to escape. Every time she resisted, news arrived from the prison that her father had been assaulted. The day she'd attempted to switch campuses, word came that he was dead. Silas had shown up to Elias's funeral with a single white larkspur bouquet, bowing respectfully to the casket. His polite gesture clashed violently with his ice-cold tone. "Behave yourself inside the cage I've built for you, and Lila stays safe. Do you want to watch her end up in a casket too?" She'd aced the SAT, scoring in the nation's top fifty students. Silas had erased every Ivy League Acceptance Letter sent to her address, blocking all avenues to higher education. He'd banned her from every respectable career path, forcing her to wander the streets busking, scavenging tr4#&sh, begging for spare change. He'd stripped every chance of a dignified life away from her, turning her into a pariah everyone spat on. One small, fabricated charge later, and she'd spent three years locked up. Elowen finished cleaning the booth as fast as she could, rushing to flee the room. She rounded the corner straight into another woman's body. "I'm so sorry," Elowen babbled, bowing low. "Get off me!" the woman shrieked. "You've ruined my Vianne Designer Handbag! Get away from me, you filthy thing!" Elowen's b1#00&d ran cold. She knew this woman—Celia Mercer, Silas's college girlfriend. Elowen had waited tables at their university café once, and watched Silas kiss Celia over and over, soft and tender. He'd truly loved Celia. So much so that when Elowen accidentally scuffed one of her leather heels, Silas had thrown her in prison just to cheer Celia up. "I'll leave right now," Elowen whispered. If Celia was here, Silas couldn't be far behind. She couldn't let him spot her. She hunched low, trying to slip past Celia unnoticed. A voice that sent ice crawling down her spine stopped her dead. "Elowen." A cold, mocking laugh followed the single name. "Long time no see." The man's voice sounded like a snarl rising straight out of h3#&11, leaving Elowen trembling from head to toe. She turned to run. A warm, firm hand clamped tight around her neck before she could take a single step. "Can't hear me, huh? Deaf now?" His breath fanned over her skin, suffocating her like a demon clinging close. Elowen's h34rt split open. The prison accident that blew out her left ear hadn't been random at all—Silas had arranged it himself. He felt her body shaking against his grip, and his tone turned sickly sweet, layered with malice. "Why are you trembling? We're former prep school peers. Can't even greet me? This job's mine to offer, after all. Aren't you going to thank me?" Elowen's lips parted, overwhelmed by crushing despair. She'd busted her back to earn early parole, found a quiet, obscure lounge to work at, convinced she could live hidden from his gaze forever. She'd walked out of prison straight into his trap. She lifted her head, eyes wide with terror. Three years had carved away all boyish softness from Silas, leaving him sharp, aristocratic, towering over her. She stared at the boy she'd once loved more than anything. "I served three years in prison, Silas. Let me go." "I've lost my father, gone to jail, lost hearing in one ear. Whatever d3#&bt you think I owe you is paid ten times over." Silas ignored every word she spoke, looping an arm around Celia's waist. He stared down at Elowen, every line of his face twisted with cruelty. "I went out of my way to get you steady work, and this is how you repay me? How about a transfer to the cabaret stage instead of janitorial duty? Sounds far more fitting." Elowen's mouth opened and closed, unable to find a single word to reply. "Not interested?" No. Never. Elowen spun on her heel. "I quit. I'm leaving right now." Two large security guards blocked the exit the second she reached the doorway. Her mind reeled at all the new horrors Silas would dream up if she stayed. Then Silas spoke, sharp and unconcerned. "Let her walk." Elowen's relief crashed over her. Before she crossed the threshold, his low murmur drifted to her ears. "Don't come crawling back when you regret this." She stepped outside without hesitation. If it meant escaping him, she'd find another job no matter how hard it got. But even without Silas meddling behind the scenes, employment proved impossible to track down. She picked up odd jobs for two weeks straight, lowering her standards more each day, until she landed work at the Downtown Salvage Yard hauling scrap metal. The foreman was gruff and unpolished. "These metal scraps get sold for cash. Don't crack or damage a single piece, or you pay full restitution. Wages get weighed out and paid cash daily once your shift's done." The metal chunks were heavy, and Elowen's frame slight. She hauled back and forth nonstop, careful with every load. The pile she'd carried sat perfectly intact on the transport truck when her shift ended. She called the foreman over to weigh her haul, only to find every piece shattered across the asphalt. "You broke the whole load, you convict!" he roared, kicking her hard to the ground. "I never should've hired a felon like you." "Pay me back every cent this wreck's worth!" Elowen froze, numb with shock. The scrap had been whole minutes prior—she had no idea how it'd broken so suddenly. A tall, broad silhouette stepped between them before she could beg for mercy. Silas tossed a thick stack of hv#&nd=r3d-d0%11#ar bills at the foreman's feet. "Ten grand. Disappear." The foreman grabbed the cash instantly and hurried off, grinning from ear to ear. Elowen collapsed on the pavement, staring blankly up at Silas, drowning in hopelessness. "You did this." He still wouldn't leave her alone. Silas knelt beside her, a cruel, lazy smile tugging his lips. I'm not wasting my time sabotaging scrap metal foremen. That man wrecked the load himself to scam you out of m0&n3#y." Silly Elowen. That nickname pulled her back to their teenage years. He'd tap the tip of her nose, grinning. "Silly, stop staring at the guys on the basketball court. I'll get jealous as your boyfriend." She'd giggled back then, bright and carefree. "You're the silly one. Beat my SAT score first if you wanna talk." After Margaret's fall, when the other students locked her in a bathroom to beat her, he'd purred the same nickname with poison in his voice. "Silly, enjoying the h3#&11 I built just for you? The law can't touch you, so I will." Elowen's mind snapped back to the salvage yard. "Look around you. No one else will give you a single d0%11#ar to feed yourself besides me." His tone dripped with condescension, contrasting sharply with Elowen's broken despair. "Head back to The Siren Lounge. If scrubbing toilets's all you're good for, that's what you'll do. Don't try running again—you know exactly what I'm capable of." Silas turned and walked away without another glance. Elowen watched his broad retreating back, and a bitter laugh bubbled up from her ch3#&st. She laughed until her face crumpled, and a mouthful of dark b1#00&d welled up at her lips. Tears mixed with the crimson liquid streaming down her chin. She tilted her head back, hollow laughter echoing out. You're so powerful, Silas. How can you not see I'm already dying? Elowen was dying. Doctors had diagnosed Stage IV Gastric Carcinoma while she was still locked in prison. She had less than six months left to live. She'd chased steady employment solely to earn proof for the foster facility—not to build a new life for herself, just to see Lila one last time. She planned to save every penny she could leave behind for Lila before her time ran out. Elowen returned to The Siren Lounge without argument, accepting every filthiest, most exhausting chore the manager assigned her. She never complained, never fought for better hours. st4#&bbing abdominal pain flared constantly, and she popped over-the-counter generic pain capsules to numb the agony when it grew unbearable. She bowed her head and took every harsh word tossed her way without pushing back. Even the manager began to pity her. When she begged once more for official employment paperwork, he shook his head sadly. "I can't stamp that for you without the owner's approval, Elowen. It's out of my hands." Elowen nodded silently and wandered toward the stairwell for a moment of peace. She pushed open the emergency exit door, and froze on the spot. Silas stood half-undressed, holding Celia tight in his arms. Celia curled against his ch3#&st like a tiny, fragile bird. Silas's hands glided gently across her skin, every touch soft and tender. "Darling, I need the new limited-edition Vianne handbag. It's only available overseas, and you have to drop a m!11&#ion-d0%11#ar purchase minimum to reserve one." "It'll be delivered to your penthouse tomorrow morning." Celia shivered against him, voice breathy. "What if someone walks in and sees us?" Silas's cold gaze locked straight onto Elowen hiding on the stairs. "If anyone dares peek, I'll dig their eyes out for you." The glare sent a sharp jolt of terror through Elowen. She spun to run. "Stop." Her feet froze mid-step. Her h34rt hammered against her ribs, dreading whatever new t0#&rtur3 Silas would dream up next. "Grab two boxes of protection supplies and bring them to the private booth upstairs." Elowen's shoulders sagged in quiet relief. Only a trivial errand, for now. She dropped the supplies off and fled the room as fast as she could. It wasn't long before the manager tracked her down again. "Head up to The Siren's VIP booth and scrub it spotless." Elowen set down the half-eaten sourdough roll she'd been eating and hurried upstairs. The booth was wrecked, covered in lingerie and adult toys, stained with proof of their night together. Elowen's cheeks bv/rned hot. Back when she'd dated Silas, the furthest they'd gone was soft, chaste kissing. The mess around her filled her with shame and sorrow alike. She knelt to start cleaning, carefully gathering Celia's expensive jewelry set to set it aside safely. Silas's voice cv#t through the quiet without warning. "Do you regret it?" Elowen yelped, nearly slipping on the w3t floor. He caught her by the waist before she crashed down. She pulled away instantly, brushing messy hair out of her face in a panic. "Regret what?" "All of this could've been yours, if you hadn't ruined everything." Silas's Adam's apple bobbed thickly. "If you hadn't hurt my mother, we'd have a toddler running around our estate by now." Silas's father had approved their romance once, but Margaret had never approved of Elowen's background. Everyone had sworn Elowen sought revenge for Margaret's disapproval, attacking her while still too young to face full criminal charges. "You destroyed me. Destroyed the life we were supposed to share." Elowen stayed silent, kneeling to keep wiping the floor. Silas lit a c!#g4&r3=tte, watching her cough violently at the thick sm0#&k3 without a flicker of sympathy. "You don't have to suffer like this. All you need's that employment paper you crave so badly—beg me for it, and I'll hand it over." The sm0#&k3 worsened her stomach cramps, dragging painful memories crashing back. She'd begged him once before. After they'd locked her father away on fabricated charges, she'd knelt on the Voss Manor front steps for three full days and nights. She'd confessed to crimes she never committed, banging her forehead raw against the stone pavement, lowering herself to complete humiliation. It had earned her zero mercy from Silas. Her father, the surgeon who'd saved hv#&nd=r3ds of lives, had died disgraced behind prison bars regardless. Silas finally stubbed the c!#g4&r3=tte out when he noticed how violently she trembled in agony. He'd assumed she'd never stoop to begging, and only meant to taunt her with the offer. As he turned to leave, Elowen's thin hand wrapped tight around the hem of his slacks. He glanced down in shock. She'd dropped to her knees at his feet, every line of her frame screaming submission. "Mr. Voss, I'm begging you. Let me see Lila just once." Her stomach screamed in unrelenting agony. She didn't have much time left. She couldn't hold on any longer.

Second I got assaulted, I called the cops. But the lawyer defending that piece of sh!t? My husband, Sullivan Evans. Trial started and he played a video of me. "So, Ms. Croft—no bra that night, red dress slit up to here. You telling me you weren't trying to get my client's attention?" "You know you can't handle your liquor. But you knocked back ten shots anyway. That sound right to you?" "You slept around so much you can't even have kids now. So what is this—you're gonna frame some innocent twenty-year-old kid to feel better about yourself?" The whole courtroom lost it. In the gallery, Sullivan's first love— Celine Whitmore—was sobbing. "Vivian, Eden's my baby brother! I know you hate me. But you stripped down, threw yourself at him, then screamed violate? That's disgusting." Sullivan's hand went to her shoulder. Soft. Protective. I sat in that witness stand. Couldn't feel my hands. Seven years ago he stood in a courtroom and said: "SO A WOMAN DRINKS, WEARS A DRESS, STAYS OUT LATE—AND SHE DESERVES TO GET RAPED?" He was defending me then. Now? He used those same words to destroy me. I called the cops immediately after I was assaulted. Yet on the day of the trial, the man standing in court to defend my assailant was my husband, Sullivan Evans. He was the most feared criminal defense lawyer in the state. The moment court opened, he played a video. The footage was vile and deeply humiliating. Every gaze in the courtroom pierced me like a sharp needle. He didn't even look at me when he spoke. "Ms. Croft, on the night in question, did you intentionally wear an unlined crimson slip dress with a plunging neckline and a high thigh slit, with the sole intent of seducing my client?" "Did you knowingly drink ten shots of top-shelf whiskey, despite knowing your own tolerance?" "And is it true that your infertility stemming from a history of indiscriminate relationships has left you emotionally unhinged—so much so that you decided to ruin a twenty-year-old college boy's future with a false rape accusation?" A storm of uproar swept through the gallery. In the front row, Sullivan's first love, Celine Whitmore, sat crying. Her eyes were rimmed red, glistening with delicate, fragile tears. Like I was the one who'd hurt her. "Vivian, Eden is my brother! I know you're jealous of me, but you cannot throw yourself at him out of spite, then falsely claim you were raped!" Sullivan pressed a hand to her trembling shoulder. I sat in the witness box, ice-cold. Seven years ago, he'd asked the same kind of question, but for my sake. "Does a woman deserve to be assaulted merely for drinking alcohol, wearing a dress, and walking alone at night?" He once spoke those words to defend me; now he has honed them into a sharp blade, pointed straight at my throat. ... The courtroom monitor flared to life, and a cold dread saturated my veins. It’s the hotel hallway footage. Frozen frame. There I was. Crimson dress, skin bare, stumbling. Half my weight slumped against Eden Whitmore's body. From that angle, my hand looked like it was clinging to his shoulder. A collective gasp rippled across the audience gallery. Sullivan pointed to the screen. "Notice, ladies and gentlemen. Ms. Croft never screamed. Her body moved with my client's." "This is not resistance. This is a deliberate performance." My throat tightened shut, a metallic taste of blood flooding my tongue from grinding my teeth in agony. "I wasn't! I was dru//gged. I was completely incapacitated and unable to speak a word!" "I said no." Sullivan finally looked at me, then quickly looked away. His voice went arctic, like he was choking something back. "dru//gged?" "Ms. Croft, a woman who wears a provocative midnight slip dress, gets heavily inebriated, and enters a hotel with a strange young man..." "What makes you think anyone should believe you were forced?" The room spun. I felt nak//ed in front of everyone. Sullivan's body went rigid for a split second. His eyes caught my pale face. I saw his throat move. Like he'd just heard himself. But then he looked away. Back to being the coldest knife in the courtroom. I sank my teeth harshly into my lower lip until the sharp metallic tang of blood bloomed in my mouth. That da//mning red dress had been a gift from Celine all along. "Vivian, you always dress so plain. Tonight's Sullivan's big celebration. You should make him look." I didn't want to wear it. Sullivan zipped it up for me. Smiled low against my ear. "My wife in red... you’re the most beautiful woman I've ever seen." "Don't be scared of people staring, Vivi." "You're not shameless. You're stunning." Now he called me a streetwalker. I stared at him and felt the world tilt. Like someone had shoved me back into the nightmare from seven years ago. Back then I was a junior associate. My boss nearly raped me. Everyone asked if I'd "slept my way up." Sullivan was the one who told me: you didn't do anything wrong. The opposing counsel had once pointed directly at me in court, sneering, "Why did you not scream? Why did you not run? Were you not partially willing?” He stood up. "Objection! You cannot deny my client's trauma simply because she didn't fight the way you imagine she should have." I broke down in court that day. Because someone finally said it out loud. I wasn't guilty. I was just terrified. But today, the monster was his first love's little brother. And Sullivan jammed those words straight into my ches//t: You had brought this ruin upon yourself. I lifted my eyes to meet his, my voice thinning to a fragile, breathless whisper. "Sullivan. You didn't used to say things like that." His fingers stilled abruptly against the case file. For a single heartbeat, there was silence. Then he pulled out another document. [Psychiatric Intervention Records] My heart stopped. My therapy notes. From seven years ago. The one wound I'd never wanted anyone to see. I remembered those endless nights: trembling and screaming through panic attacks, scrubbing my skin raw until it bled in a compulsive urge to cleanse myself. I couldn't let men near me. Couldn't walk into a closed room. Sullivan took me to every session. After each one, he'd hold me. Kiss my forehead over and over. "Don't be scared, Vivi. I'll protect you for the rest of my life." I had handed him every broken, bleeding fragment of my shattered self back then. Now he was ripping open every scar, for the whole world to watch. He flipped the file open flat on the counsel table, his tone deadly calm and unyielding, "Your Honor, Ms. Croft underwent long-term psychiatric intervention seven years ago." "Including documented stress responses to male contact, and severe persecutory ideation." My veins turned to ice. "Liar..." My voice cracked. "That's private. How could you..." He didn't look at me. "Ms. Croft’s medical records document a consistent pattern of misinterpreting ordinary male interactions as violent assaults, even in the absence of any genuine threat." "We therefore submit that on the night in question. Under the influence of alcohol, old trauma, and marital strain, she experienced a cognitive distortion." The gallery exploded. "Cognitive distortion? So she's crazy?" "Oh my God, she's done this before!" "Textbook victim complex." I started shaking. Sullivan glanced at me then. His knuckles went white around the file. But Celine let out a tiny sob. He turned back to the judge. "Furthermore, the defense has evidence of a long-standing conflict between Ms. Croft and Ms. Whitmore." He pulled out more exhibits. "Ms. Whitmore has been subjected to repeated verbal attacks from Ms. Croft, who believes Ms. Whitmore is destroying her marriage." "Especially after learning of Ms. Whitmore's pregnancy, Ms. Croft's emotional state deteriorated sharply." On the big screen, there were screenshots of my texts with Celine. They were deliberately cropped, stripped of all context, curated to display only my sharpest, most confrontational lines. [Stay away from Sullivan.] [You know he's married.] [What do you actually want, Celine?] Sullivan read them aloud and flat. "These clearly establish Ms. Croft's deep hostility toward Ms. Whitmore." I stared at the screen, freezing from the inside out. "That's not..." "She sent me photos of them watching fireworks at midnight." "She told me her baby needed a father." "She said Sullivan would leave me eventually." Celine burst into tears, shaking her head frantically in feigned grievance. "I never! Vivian, why are you lying about me?" She clutched her pregnan//t belly tightly, hot tears streaming down her cheeks in a carefully crafted display of vulnerability. "I only said the baby was innocent. I never wanted to take Sullivan from you!" "Eden and I lost our parents young. He's all I have. And now I'm pregnan//t and alone and I was just scared..." Sullivan kept going. "Did you, in the hospital maternity wing, publicly curse Ms. Whitmore's unborn child?" My hands clenched. That day, Celine called saying Sullivan was in trouble. I rushed to the hospital, and found him holding her hand during her ultrasound. She leaned into his shoulder. Touched her stomach. "Sullivan, do you think the baby will look more like you, or me?" I stood there like a punchline. All I said was, "Celine. Is this fun for you?" Now that was "proof" of my jealousy. I looked at the gallery. My mother, Eleanor, sat there. Her face drained of all color, her eyes blazing red with suppressed tears and fury. She was the toughest woman I knew. After my first case, she held me and sobbed so hard she couldn't stand. Then Sullivan came. He swore to God in front of her. "Mrs. Croft, I'll protect Vivian. No one will ever hurt her again." Today she watched that same man strip me nak//ed for everyone. She stood up suddenly. "Sullivan Evans! Have you lost every ounce of your humanity??" "Seven years ago, what did you promise me?" "Now you're using her medical records, her wounds, her pain about not having children, to get a rapist off?" "How dare you. How dare you!" Sullivan went pale. He stood there, unable to utter a single word in his defense. I watched my mother's back and felt something crack in my ches//t. After the first hearing, my mother held me tight and walked me out. Reporters swarmed the stone courthouse steps in a chaotic mob.Blinding flashbulbs burst relentlessly in my eyes, and microphones were thrust rudely inches from my face, one after another. "Ms. Croft, were you jealous that Celine was carrying Sullivan's baby, so you threw yourself at her brother?" "Word is you went commando that night. Do you suffer from sexual addiction?" "You pulled this stunt seven years ago. Now you're shaking down a twenty-year-old young man. A classic honey trap?" "Is that your mother? Does she know about your reckless lifestyle?" I stumbled. Someone grabbed my sleeve in the crush. The fabric tore. My shoulder and half my ches//t hit the air. Cameras flashed wildly, capturing every exposed inch. Male onlookers laughed and whistled, "da//mn, no wonder the kid couldn't keep his hands off!" My stomach turned inside out. Mom lunged in front of me. Covered me with her own body. "Back off! You animals! Have you no shame?" In the chaos, someone shoved her hard. Her forehead cracked against the courthouse pillar's sharp edge. Blood poured down her face. It took bailiffs to clear the way. That night, the doorbell rang. I opened the door to find Sullivan and Celine standing on our porch. Mom's face went murderous. "What do you want?" Celine looked at me, wet-eyed. "Vivian, I came to apologize for my brother. But he is only twenty. He's never even had a girlfriend. He genuinely thought you were lonely and seeking attention in that dress..." "He said the second he touched you, you responded. You didn't fight him at all. So why call the police after and try to destroy his whole life?" My brain detonated. I locked eyes on her. "Say that again. I was dru//gged. Convulsing. And you're telling me I wanted it?" Celine flinched into Sullivan's ches//t. "Vivian, please... Is she having another breakdown?" Mom's palm cracked across Celine's cheek. "SHUT YOUR MOUTH!" Sullivan pulled Celine behind him, his jaw tightening into a hard, unforgiving line. "She's pregnan//t. You had no right to do so." Then he turned to me. "Vivian. Drop the charges." Every word sliced into me like a fresh blade. "I can make this go away. Sign the withdrawal. We won't pursue the false-report angle." "If you keep pushing, you'll lose. You can't handle what's coming." I stared fixedly at the man standing in my doorway—a complete stranger. "Are you warning me because you care, Sullivan?" "Or threatening me that if I don't fold, you'll bury me in the press?" His face flickered. "That's not what I meant." Mom pointed at the door with her shaking hands. "Get out. Both of you!" She suddenly clutched tightly at her ches//t, her body staggering weakly to the side. I screamed and caught her. Sullivan stepped forward instinctively to help. I shoved him back. "Don't touch her!" He froze. Mom slumped against me. Pale. Sweating. I fumbled for my phone. Dialed 911. Sullivan stood at the threshold. For the first time, he looked lost. "Vivi, I..." I held my mother. My whole body trembling so violently I could barely form words. "Take Celine and get out of my house! If something happens to my mom, I will never forgive you." His lips moved. Nothing came out. Mom's hand went cold in mine. And I realized Sullivan hadn't come to talk me into dropping charges. He'd come to finish off the last person who still stood between me and the edge.

Second I got assaulted, I called the cops. But the lawyer defending that piece of sh!t? My husband, Sullivan Evans. Trial started and he played a video of me. "So, Ms. Croft—no bra that night, red dress slit up to here. You telling me you weren't trying to get my client's attention?" "You know you can't handle your liquor. But you knocked back ten shots anyway. That sound right to you?" "You slept around so much you can't even have kids now. So what is this—you're gonna frame some innocent twenty-year-old kid to feel better about yourself?" The whole courtroom lost it. In the gallery, Sullivan's first love— Celine Whitmore—was sobbing. "Vivian, Eden's my baby brother! I know you hate me. But you stripped down, threw yourself at him, then screamed violate? That's disgusting." Sullivan's hand went to her shoulder. Soft. Protective. I sat in that witness stand. Couldn't feel my hands. Seven years ago he stood in a courtroom and said: "SO A WOMAN DRINKS, WEARS A DRESS, STAYS OUT LATE—AND SHE DESERVES TO GET RAPED?" He was defending me then. Now? He used those same words to destroy me. I called the cops immediately after I was assaulted. Yet on the day of the trial, the man standing in court to defend my assailant was my husband, Sullivan Evans. He was the most feared criminal defense lawyer in the state. The moment court opened, he played a video. The footage was vile and deeply humiliating. Every gaze in the courtroom pierced me like a sharp needle. He didn't even look at me when he spoke. "Ms. Croft, on the night in question, did you intentionally wear an unlined crimson slip dress with a plunging neckline and a high thigh slit, with the sole intent of seducing my client?" "Did you knowingly drink ten shots of top-shelf whiskey, despite knowing your own tolerance?" "And is it true that your infertility stemming from a history of indiscriminate relationships has left you emotionally unhinged—so much so that you decided to ruin a twenty-year-old college boy's future with a false rape accusation?" A storm of uproar swept through the gallery. In the front row, Sullivan's first love, Celine Whitmore, sat crying. Her eyes were rimmed red, glistening with delicate, fragile tears. Like I was the one who'd hurt her. "Vivian, Eden is my brother! I know you're jealous of me, but you cannot throw yourself at him out of spite, then falsely claim you were raped!" Sullivan pressed a hand to her trembling shoulder. I sat in the witness box, ice-cold. Seven years ago, he'd asked the same kind of question, but for my sake. "Does a woman deserve to be assaulted merely for drinking alcohol, wearing a dress, and walking alone at night?" He once spoke those words to defend me; now he has honed them into a sharp blade, pointed straight at my throat. ... The courtroom monitor flared to life, and a cold dread saturated my veins. It’s the hotel hallway footage. Frozen frame. There I was. Crimson dress, skin bare, stumbling. Half my weight slumped against Eden Whitmore's body. From that angle, my hand looked like it was clinging to his shoulder. A collective gasp rippled across the audience gallery. Sullivan pointed to the screen. "Notice, ladies and gentlemen. Ms. Croft never screamed. Her body moved with my client's." "This is not resistance. This is a deliberate performance." My throat tightened shut, a metallic taste of blood flooding my tongue from grinding my teeth in agony. "I wasn't! I was dru//gged. I was completely incapacitated and unable to speak a word!" "I said no." Sullivan finally looked at me, then quickly looked away. His voice went arctic, like he was choking something back. "dru//gged?" "Ms. Croft, a woman who wears a provocative midnight slip dress, gets heavily inebriated, and enters a hotel with a strange young man..." "What makes you think anyone should believe you were forced?" The room spun. I felt nak//ed in front of everyone. Sullivan's body went rigid for a split second. His eyes caught my pale face. I saw his throat move. Like he'd just heard himself. But then he looked away. Back to being the coldest knife in the courtroom. I sank my teeth harshly into my lower lip until the sharp metallic tang of blood bloomed in my mouth. That da//mning red dress had been a gift from Celine all along. "Vivian, you always dress so plain. Tonight's Sullivan's big celebration. You should make him look." I didn't want to wear it. Sullivan zipped it up for me. Smiled low against my ear. "My wife in red... you’re the most beautiful woman I've ever seen." "Don't be scared of people staring, Vivi." "You're not shameless. You're stunning." Now he called me a streetwalker. I stared at him and felt the world tilt. Like someone had shoved me back into the nightmare from seven years ago. Back then I was a junior associate. My boss nearly raped me. Everyone asked if I'd "slept my way up." Sullivan was the one who told me: you didn't do anything wrong. The opposing counsel had once pointed directly at me in court, sneering, "Why did you not scream? Why did you not run? Were you not partially willing?” He stood up. "Objection! You cannot deny my client's trauma simply because she didn't fight the way you imagine she should have." I broke down in court that day. Because someone finally said it out loud. I wasn't guilty. I was just terrified. But today, the monster was his first love's little brother. And Sullivan jammed those words straight into my ches//t: You had brought this ruin upon yourself. I lifted my eyes to meet his, my voice thinning to a fragile, breathless whisper. "Sullivan. You didn't used to say things like that." His fingers stilled abruptly against the case file. For a single heartbeat, there was silence. Then he pulled out another document. [Psychiatric Intervention Records] My heart stopped. My therapy notes. From seven years ago. The one wound I'd never wanted anyone to see. I remembered those endless nights: trembling and screaming through panic attacks, scrubbing my skin raw until it bled in a compulsive urge to cleanse myself. I couldn't let men near me. Couldn't walk into a closed room. Sullivan took me to every session. After each one, he'd hold me. Kiss my forehead over and over. "Don't be scared, Vivi. I'll protect you for the rest of my life." I had handed him every broken, bleeding fragment of my shattered self back then. Now he was ripping open every scar, for the whole world to watch. He flipped the file open flat on the counsel table, his tone deadly calm and unyielding, "Your Honor, Ms. Croft underwent long-term psychiatric intervention seven years ago." "Including documented stress responses to male contact, and severe persecutory ideation." My veins turned to ice. "Liar..." My voice cracked. "That's private. How could you..." He didn't look at me. "Ms. Croft’s medical records document a consistent pattern of misinterpreting ordinary male interactions as violent assaults, even in the absence of any genuine threat." "We therefore submit that on the night in question. Under the influence of alcohol, old trauma, and marital strain, she experienced a cognitive distortion." The gallery exploded. "Cognitive distortion? So she's crazy?" "Oh my God, she's done this before!" "Textbook victim complex." I started shaking. Sullivan glanced at me then. His knuckles went white around the file. But Celine let out a tiny sob. He turned back to the judge. "Furthermore, the defense has evidence of a long-standing conflict between Ms. Croft and Ms. Whitmore." He pulled out more exhibits. "Ms. Whitmore has been subjected to repeated verbal attacks from Ms. Croft, who believes Ms. Whitmore is destroying her marriage." "Especially after learning of Ms. Whitmore's pregnancy, Ms. Croft's emotional state deteriorated sharply." On the big screen, there were screenshots of my texts with Celine. They were deliberately cropped, stripped of all context, curated to display only my sharpest, most confrontational lines. [Stay away from Sullivan.] [You know he's married.] [What do you actually want, Celine?] Sullivan read them aloud and flat. "These clearly establish Ms. Croft's deep hostility toward Ms. Whitmore." I stared at the screen, freezing from the inside out. "That's not..." "She sent me photos of them watching fireworks at midnight." "She told me her baby needed a father." "She said Sullivan would leave me eventually." Celine burst into tears, shaking her head frantically in feigned grievance. "I never! Vivian, why are you lying about me?" She clutched her pregnan//t belly tightly, hot tears streaming down her cheeks in a carefully crafted display of vulnerability. "I only said the baby was innocent. I never wanted to take Sullivan from you!" "Eden and I lost our parents young. He's all I have. And now I'm pregnan//t and alone and I was just scared..." Sullivan kept going. "Did you, in the hospital maternity wing, publicly curse Ms. Whitmore's unborn child?" My hands clenched. That day, Celine called saying Sullivan was in trouble. I rushed to the hospital, and found him holding her hand during her ultrasound. She leaned into his shoulder. Touched her stomach. "Sullivan, do you think the baby will look more like you, or me?" I stood there like a punchline. All I said was, "Celine. Is this fun for you?" Now that was "proof" of my jealousy. I looked at the gallery. My mother, Eleanor, sat there. Her face drained of all color, her eyes blazing red with suppressed tears and fury. She was the toughest woman I knew. After my first case, she held me and sobbed so hard she couldn't stand. Then Sullivan came. He swore to God in front of her. "Mrs. Croft, I'll protect Vivian. No one will ever hurt her again." Today she watched that same man strip me nak//ed for everyone. She stood up suddenly. "Sullivan Evans! Have you lost every ounce of your humanity??" "Seven years ago, what did you promise me?" "Now you're using her medical records, her wounds, her pain about not having children, to get a rapist off?" "How dare you. How dare you!" Sullivan went pale. He stood there, unable to utter a single word in his defense. I watched my mother's back and felt something crack in my ches//t. After the first hearing, my mother held me tight and walked me out. Reporters swarmed the stone courthouse steps in a chaotic mob.Blinding flashbulbs burst relentlessly in my eyes, and microphones were thrust rudely inches from my face, one after another. "Ms. Croft, were you jealous that Celine was carrying Sullivan's baby, so you threw yourself at her brother?" "Word is you went commando that night. Do you suffer from sexual addiction?" "You pulled this stunt seven years ago. Now you're shaking down a twenty-year-old young man. A classic honey trap?" "Is that your mother? Does she know about your reckless lifestyle?" I stumbled. Someone grabbed my sleeve in the crush. The fabric tore. My shoulder and half my ches//t hit the air. Cameras flashed wildly, capturing every exposed inch. Male onlookers laughed and whistled, "da//mn, no wonder the kid couldn't keep his hands off!" My stomach turned inside out. Mom lunged in front of me. Covered me with her own body. "Back off! You animals! Have you no shame?" In the chaos, someone shoved her hard. Her forehead cracked against the courthouse pillar's sharp edge. Blood poured down her face. It took bailiffs to clear the way. That night, the doorbell rang. I opened the door to find Sullivan and Celine standing on our porch. Mom's face went murderous. "What do you want?" Celine looked at me, wet-eyed. "Vivian, I came to apologize for my brother. But he is only twenty. He's never even had a girlfriend. He genuinely thought you were lonely and seeking attention in that dress..." "He said the second he touched you, you responded. You didn't fight him at all. So why call the police after and try to destroy his whole life?" My brain detonated. I locked eyes on her. "Say that again. I was dru//gged. Convulsing. And you're telling me I wanted it?" Celine flinched into Sullivan's ches//t. "Vivian, please... Is she having another breakdown?" Mom's palm cracked across Celine's cheek. "SHUT YOUR MOUTH!" Sullivan pulled Celine behind him, his jaw tightening into a hard, unforgiving line. "She's pregnan//t. You had no right to do so." Then he turned to me. "Vivian. Drop the charges." Every word sliced into me like a fresh blade. "I can make this go away. Sign the withdrawal. We won't pursue the false-report angle." "If you keep pushing, you'll lose. You can't handle what's coming." I stared fixedly at the man standing in my doorway—a complete stranger. "Are you warning me because you care, Sullivan?" "Or threatening me that if I don't fold, you'll bury me in the press?" His face flickered. "That's not what I meant." Mom pointed at the door with her shaking hands. "Get out. Both of you!" She suddenly clutched tightly at her ches//t, her body staggering weakly to the side. I screamed and caught her. Sullivan stepped forward instinctively to help. I shoved him back. "Don't touch her!" He froze. Mom slumped against me. Pale. Sweating. I fumbled for my phone. Dialed 911. Sullivan stood at the threshold. For the first time, he looked lost. "Vivi, I..." I held my mother. My whole body trembling so violently I could barely form words. "Take Celine and get out of my house! If something happens to my mom, I will never forgive you." His lips moved. Nothing came out. Mom's hand went cold in mine. And I realized Sullivan hadn't come to talk me into dropping charges. He'd come to finish off the last person who still stood between me and the edge.

I asked to stay over 4 times in 4 years. He said no every time. "We're not married yet. I want to respect your space." Then I saw the photo. My intern—the one who stole my work—posted a picture of her feet in my slippers. Standing in his living room. He gave her the spare key. Made her instant ramen—the same late-night snack he always made for me. Drank wine with her—and he never drinks. When I confronted him, he called me petty. "She's just a tenant," he said. "Show some empathy." Two days later, he posted a video in our company Slack. Apologizing for me. Telling everyone I bullied her. Destroying my reputation—for her. I called him. He didn't answer. She did. "Julian's asleep," she purred. "He's been with me all night." Four years I gave him. Four years of waiting, of respecting his boundaries. And he threw me away the second someone new smiled at him. I packed one bag, deleted every photo, and blocked his number. A man not worth waiting for—good riddance. I complained when Julian Brooks rejected my request to stay over—for the fourth time. "Julian, you're so rigid." My apartment's AC had died in the middle of a hun//dred-degree heatwave. Yet he insisted on being old-fashioned about it. Throughout our four years together, no matter how late it got, he always insisted on driving me home. Julian sighed and tried to soothe me. "Be sweet, Chloe. We aren't married yet, and I want us to respect each other's space. I don't want anyone at the office gossiping about us living together." My heart warmed at his words, so I fell right back into our usual routine, venting to him about the recent drama at my office just like I always did. But he kept checking his watch, clearly distracted, and urged me to head back. Fortunately, the HVAC technician found a sudden opening and rushed over to my place. While waiting for him to finish the repairs, I happened to scroll through my Instagram feed and saw a post from our company's new marketing intern, Savannah Cross. [My landlord suddenly canceled my lease, but thank god someone stepped up to help. Otherwise, I'd be sleeping on the streets.] I recognized the background of her photo immediately. It was Julian's apartment. I stared at my phone screen, completely frozen. I stood there so long the technician finished fixing the unit and carefully lowered the thermostat. "Too hot for you, kiddo?" He looked at me with a sympathetic sigh. "Tell you what, I'll knock twenty bucks off the bill. Take it from an old man—there's no rough patch in life you can't get through." Only then did I realize tears were streaming down my face. I forced a smile. "Thank you. You're absolutely right." Julian was a rough patch I was finally moving past. ****** Savannah's photo only showed her legs and her luggage. She was wearing my slippers, standing right inside Julian's living room. The moment I stepped out of his apartment, she stepped right in. Before leaving, I had playfully begged Julian to let me stay. He refused without a second thought. "Chloe, you need to go home. I have urgent work to finish in a bit." As it turned out, there was no urgent work. The only urgency was Savannah. She was the new intern in my department, and we hadn't been getting along. I mentioned this to Julian before. But he never seemed to care, let alone listen. I had no idea Julian even knew Savannah. He'd never mentioned her. Yet it was glaringly obvious that she was spending the night at his place. Another red notification popped up on my screen as Savannah updated her feed again. [Meeting a soft-hearted god at my absolute worst. Blessed.] This time, Julian was in the photo. He was looking down at her with a helpless, fond smile. Two bowls of instant ramen with Spam sat on the table. On weekends, when Julian and I curled up together, that was the exact late-night snack he always made for me. Now, he was making it for Savannah. Savannah's comment sat right beneath the post, smug and flaunting. [Rent is two hun//dred, utilities are free, and no deposit. Best landlord ever.] Landlord. He had let Savannah move in. A sharp, suffocating pain flared in my chest, stealing my breath. To make his commute easier, Julian had rented a two-bedroom apartment near the office. It was a great place—twenty-five hun//dred a month. It used to be a shared rental, but his old roommate had moved out, and they hadn't found a suitable replacement. Worried the rent would be too much, I suggested moving in to split the cost. He flatly refused. "Chloe, I won't take your note, and I don't think it's right to move in together before marriage." It wasn't right for me, but it was perfectly fine for Savannah. I remembered those boundaries so clearly. The first time I asked to stay over was during our honeymoon phase, and Julian strictly turned me down. The second time, I came down with a sudden high fever. Julian still drove me back to my place, watched me take my medicine, and left the moment I fell asleep. The third time was the worst—someone had left a strange mark on my apartment door. I was losing my mind with fear, but Julian still wouldn't let me stay at his place. Instead, he booked me a hotel room. He spent the next day contacting landlords, agents, and movers, ensuring I relocated to a new apartment within twenty-four hours. Four years, and I couldn't get into Julian's place. Savannah managed it without lifting a finger. I had to admit his "traditional" boundaries were reserved exclusively for me. My phone buzzed with a text from Julian. [Goodnight.] No explanation. No mention of her. [By the way, I found a new roommate. She's moving in tomorrow under an emergency circumstance.] [Chloe, make sure to let me know in advance before you come over from now on.] Staring at the text, I wanted to laugh. But my tears hit the screen first. I wiped my eyes and didn't reply. Savannah posted a third update. One photo showed her clinking wine glasses with Julian, and the other was a selfie where their cheeks were practically pressed together. [Celebrating the new place. Here's to the future, Mr. Brooks.] Late at night. An unmarried man and woman. Living together. Julian never touched a drop of alcohol. Yet he was drinking with her tonight. In an instant, all the determination holding my heart together vanished. It was all so pathetic. I didn't text Julian for the next two days. He didn't seem to notice. It wasn't until later that week, when a sudden torrential downpour hit right at the end of the workday, that our paths crossed. I was waiting for an Uber under the office awning. Savannah was standing right next to me. She was holding her phone, whining cutely to whoever was on the other end. "Can you pull up a little closer? Hurry, the wind is freezing..." A car pulled up right in front of us. Entirely too familiar. Sure enough, the window rolled down to reveal Julian in the driver's seat. He hadn't sent a single text to check on me during this storm, yet he'd rushed over to pick up Savannah. Julian froze when he caught sight of me. "Chloe, you..." Savannah closed her umbrella, opened the door, and hopped straight into the passenger seat. "Julian, you actually know Chloe?" She looked out at me from the dry comfort of the car, her smile radiating sweetness. "Chloe, why don't you get in? Let Julian give you a ride. It's impossible to get an Uber in this weather." My own boyfriend was offering me a ride, and only because she'd graciously granted him permission. Julian remained silent, merely looking at me. I shook my head expressionlessly. "No need." My ride was already confirmed and only three minutes away. No reason to get in that car just to make myself sick. Savannah nodded and rolled up the window. The car lingered for a few seconds before driving off into the rain. When I finally got home and stepped out of the shower, I found Julian waiting in my living room. He still had the code to my smart lock. "Chloe, are you throwing a tantrum?" "When you refused to get in the car, I thought you were just busy, but the more I thought about it, the more off it felt." Julian reached out to grab my hand, but I stepped aside, dodging him. "Is this about me picking up Savannah today?" "Or because I didn't let you stay over the other night and didn't drive you home?" He let out a helpless chuckle. "Don't be so petty. Savannah's an old classmate. I only picked her up because I was passing by—and it's hard to say no when she asks." "Not letting you stay over was for your own good. I promise I'll drive you home next time..." "Julian, let's break up." Julian stiffened, his face instantly darkening. "Chloe, over something this minor?" "Yes." My eyes were entirely dead. "I can't stay at your place, but Savannah can. Don't you find that hilarious?" He'd never intended to tell me about her because he knew exactly how I'd react. "You... let me explain." Julian's eyes widened in shock, clearly not expecting me to already know. "Savannah moved to the city all by herself from a small town, and I'm the only person she knows here." "It's tough for a young girl, and her landlord suddenly kicked her out. If I hadn't stepped in, she'd be on the streets." "Chloe, you're a woman too—show some empathy." Seeing my silence, he let out a heavy sigh. "It's just an emergency temporary stay. Besides, there's nothing going on between us, so we don't need to overcomplicate things." "She's different from you. She's just a tenant." "Just a tenant?" I laughed. "Julian, I told you before that Savannah is the new intern in my department." "During her first week, she spent every single lunch break on the phone in the breakroom. When people teased her about it, she claimed it wasn't a boyfriend, just an old classmate." "That old classmate was you, wasn't it?" Julian's eyes flickered with guilt for a fraction of a second, but he didn't deny it. I used to love sharing things with him, flooding his phone with texts whenever I had a free moment. But his replies were always agonizingly slow, if they came at all. We'd fought about it a few times. Back then, Julian would just look exhausted and say, "Chloe, we're adults. Work is busy, and I need to rest during lunch. Can you stop making things difficult for me?" But when it came to Savannah, it was never difficult. "For the past two days, Savannah started bringing homemade lunches to work. You made those for her too, didn't you?" "And you're still trying to tell me she's just a tenant?" Those lunchboxes were a matching couple's set I'd bought, left behind at Julian's apartment. Now, Savannah was using them. Julian knitted his brows, completely unable to comprehend my anger. "Chloe, aren't you reading way too much into this?" "Don't be prejudiced against Savannah. She told me there was just a misunderstanding between you two at work..." He didn't listen to a single word I said, but he took everything Savannah said as gospel. I had nothing left to say. The silence in the room grew suffocating until the doorbell suddenly rang. Julian turned to open it. A second later, Savannah poked her head in, smiling warmly at me. "Hi, Chloe. Sorry to drop by unannounced." My gaze pierced right through Savannah and landed coldly on Julian. "You brought her here?" Savannah couldn't have found my address on her own. Julian stood beside her, deliberately avoiding my eyes. "Chloe, Savannah isn't the kind of person you think she is." "Since there's a misunderstanding, you two should just talk it out..." I let out a sharp, mocking laugh. "I spent two weeks pulling all-nighters for our latest marketing campaign, and she intentionally deleted my name from the pitch deck. You call that a misunderstanding?" I was the lead on that project, and Savannah was only supposed to assist me. After all my hard work, she secretly wiped my version from the shared drive history and submitted the campaign under her own name. I'd confronted her directly, but I couldn't recover the deleted file history in time to prove it to management. The drama had caused a massive stir in the office. "Chloe, you shouldn't bully me just because I'm the new intern." "That campaign was clearly my..." Savannah's eyes welled with tears, her voice trailing off vulnerably. "Forget it. You're Julian's girlfriend, and I don't want things to be tense between us. I definitely don't want you two fighting because of me." "Let's just say it was my fault. I apologize." Heartache flashed across Julian's face. "Savannah, I know what kind of person you are. Right is right." He turned to me, his tone hardening. "You shouldn't have to compromise yourself just for my sake." Then he looked straight at me. "Chloe, just apologize to Savannah, and we can all move past this." The final trace of agonizing heartache vanished from my chest. I felt entirely, completely numb. "Julian, let me make this incredibly clear. We are broken up." "Now, take your little friend and get the he11 out of my apartment." Savannah flinched, tears cascading down her face as she clutched the edge of Julian's jacket, shrinking behind him. Julian's expression turned vicious and mocking. "Chloe, are you seriously trying to threaten me with a breakup? You honestly think I'll just bow down to that?" "You are completely unhinged." He grabbed Savannah's hand and pulled her out the door. The door slammed shut with a deafening thud. I collapsed onto the sofa, completely drained of energy. Right then, my phone rang. It was my mom. "Chloe, are you really moving back home? Did something happen out there?" "No, Mom. I already turned in my resignation. I'm just wrapping up my files over the next two days before heading back." "Did you and Julian have a fight?" "No fight. We broke up." I'd already been thinking about changing companies anyway. And after the nightmare with Savannah, I immediately submitted my two weeks' notice. Our director thought he'd struck gold with Savannah, so he approved my departure without a single complaint. My mom went quiet for a few seconds. "Broken up... well, as long as you've thought it through." "It's good that you're coming back. Your dad and I won't have to constantly worry about you getting mistreated out there." My throat tightened, and my eyes stung. "Mom, don't worry about me." "I've already been looking at job openings, and there are plenty of great marketing agencies back home..." "I'm not worried about the job, sweetie. Just don't push yourself too hard." A lump formed in my throat, leaving me completely speechless. I'd hoped to spend my last two days in the city in peace. But Savannah had no intention of letting me go quietly. Just as the workday ended, the company Slack workspace absolutely exploded. Savannah had dropped a video into the main public channel. The person in the video was Julian. His face was dead serious, completely devoid of any playfulness. "Regarding the recent campaign pitch, I am formally apologizing to Savannah Cross on behalf of my girlfriend, Chloe Vance."