Secrets in Pages

I am Demetra, the girl whose mother slept with every gamma, beta, and zeta…trying to climb her way up, only to crash-land at the very bottom and leave me here to clean up her mess in the Black Covenant Pack. As the lowest-ranking omega in the pack house, my glorious destiny is to personally serve one of three sons of Alpha Kael. Emris. Emris. Emris. Emris. My world is the four walls of his penthouse bedroom. I’m the ghost who takes his designer clothes to the laundry. I scrub his desk. I pick up the condoms after he’s done with whatever girl he drags home from the club. I’m the one who patches up the cuts and bruises from fights he doesn’t want his parents to know about, dabbing at his knuckles while he stares straight through me. I even cut his hair when it gets too long cause he hates when it brushes his shoulders. And when his famous temper explodes, shattering a lamp or hurling it against the wall, I’m the one on my knees, picking up the pieces. Always on my knees. Because Emris runs on a fuel of rage. However, the day I turned eighteen, a mate bond snapped between us during one of my cleaning routines. Me, a nobody, became mated to the first son of the Alpha. The one everyone whispers will inherit everything, because while all two of brothers are hybrids, Emris is the strongest…he is a Trybrid werewolf. Emris, who has never looked at me twice, suddenly couldn’t stand for me to be out of his sight. Yet, despite his new possessiveness. He warned me never to tell a soul that we were mates. Afterall, I’m an orphaned omega, a high-school dropout because the pack’s "charity" didn't cover an actual education. My father isn’t some politician or business mogul; he’s probably one of the countless faceless men my mother entertained. I am the pack’s pity project, the girl they “saved,” and my lifelong repayment has been to scrub their floors and make their beds. He was ashamed of me. The first time Emris ever truly looked at me was the day the mate bond snapped into place. I remember how his uncovered eye, stared down at me while the other was hidden under the usual black patch. The next time I saw him without that black patch, it revealed his serpent-lined colored eyes as he took my virginity in his bed. And I love him. Goddess, I love him with my entire soul, a stupid, desperate love that lives in the deepest, most secret part of my heart. I loved him when he made me his dirty secret. I loved him through his coldness and the countless ways he shattered my heart, only to gather the pieces and hand them back to him all over again. I am the one who watches him sleep. I am the one rocked him back to reality when he woke up from the nightmares of the two years he spent as a kid, locked in an enemy’s pack dungeon. He was broken, far from perfect, but he was everything to me. “Where you going?” His rough voice makes me stop buttoning my stupid house help uniform. I see my reflection in his floor-length mirror, my doll like white hair is all ruffled from where he fisted his hands in it, arching me against me just minutes ago. “It’s almost time for breakfast.” I look around his bedroom for my bra. “Shit.” Emris runs a hand down his face. I see the forgotten cup of water on his nightstand. The one I brought him last night before he pulled me into his bed and made me forget my own name. “This what you’re looking for?” I see my light blue bra dangling from his finger. I march over and reach for it, but he lifts his hand higher. “I’m already late. Give it.” I hold my palm out and try to sound firm. He pushes his dark hair back and sits up. The sheets pools around his nak3d waist. I can’t help the quick swallow in my throat as I take in the hard planes of his ab muscles or his calloused hands that held my waist so tightly I couldn’t escape a thrvst. “Did I say you could leave yet?” Emris’ voice is deceptively soft. “Keep it, then.” I frown and walk out. I can’t do this with him today. I hear his low chuckle behind me. “I don’t like your saltiness. Or is it moodiness? I don’t like your jealousy, either. I have so much to do today, the last thing I want is that attitude from you.” I do my best not to turn around and look at him. He knows exactly why I’m upset. The whole pack knows. The Alpha of the Mud Claw Pack’s daughter, Elena. Emris’s ex-girlfriend has just moved into the pack house. Luna Derisha is already parading her around, calling her his future Luna. And I’m here. His actual, true mate. His dirty little secret. “Demetra?” His tone shifts. It’s becoming a warning. “Don’t let me have to call you a second time!” When I turn, he’s out of bed in a loose pair of pants, walking towards the balcony where I’m standing at. “You know why I’m upset.” Emris rips off his black eye patch and tosses it aside. He usually covers that eye because his wolf gets agitated, and when it does, he can’t control the change. His left eye burns with a ring of gold, the pupil a terrifying thin slit. It scares people. But then, everything about Emris is designed to be scary. I’m just the idiot who’s in love with him, so I see past it. “You’re acting like I slept with Elena this morning!” “Wow.” I let out a scoff that’s designed to hide the hot press of tears in my throat. “So, you want to sleep with her? You can’t wait to have your ex-girlfriend back in your bed?” “Stop it. Her father is an Alpha. My mom is just securing my claim to the Alpha seat. It’s not personal—” “We are mates!” I yell and I’ve never yelled at him before. “You’re an omega.” Emris says it like it’s a disease. “That’s weak for a Trybrid like me. That’s a liability for the Alpha I’m becoming!” “You sleep with me! You claim me almost every night! But now, suddenly, I’m too weak for you because the Alpha seat is up for grabs?” In a second, he’s right in front of me. I watch the pupil in his left eye, “the serpent-like one” dilates. “Don’t you ever disrespect me. I paid for your high school. I offered to pay for college, but you were too proud to take it. I bought you a car you never drove! I give you a roof, my protection, and this is how you thank me?” Emris pulls me and I land against his bare chest, face inches from his. There, I force myself to go still so I won’t anger the beast further. I didn’t accept his gifts because I was sick of feeling like his charity case, a bill he had to pay for the mate he never wanted. “Once I'm Alpha, my pups will be in your belly. You'll... be under my protection for life." He roughs a brand across my waist before palming my back side. There comes the famous grab as he does a little tap-tap-tap taps with ownership. Usually, it would make me blush but this time, I just look at him with tears. However, Emris doesn’t see tears. He’s cold-blooded, and the worst part is, he’s proud of it. “As what?” I look up at him from what feels like a million miles below. The one thing I want is for him to claim me as his mate. To look at me and see his equal, his other half, not a constant reminder of how we’re opposites. Emris just stares back. Of course, he’s going to pretend he doesn’t understand what I’m asking. He’s an expert at that. “Change that jealous look on your face before I see you again.” I push his hand away from my waist and instantly feel cold. I walk out of his bedroom. The moment I step into the moving area of the pack house, I nearly collide with the head chef, whose face is twisted into a scowl that could curdle milk. “Where have you been?!” “I, uh… I woke up late.” I quickly answer. My job is only to maintain Emris’s private penthouse, so I have no idea why she’s so furious with me. “We’re short-staffed. Go help Miss Elena take her bags to her room.” Susan points and my stomach plummets. There she is. Elena Orient. Emris’ ex-girlfriend. Chapter 2 Elena was a part-time cheerleading trainer at Magnus High for a year. It’s the high school I was able to attend because of Emris’s “charity.” She’s at least four years older than me, and she was that impossibly cool adult all the younger girls, including me, desperately wanted to be. The boys were all secretly in love with her. She had perfect, bouncy blonde waves. Back when I was a gawky, puberty-stricken freshman, I’d daydream about looking like her one day. So yeah, I’m jealous. Elena Orient comes from a rich family, a powerful pack, and everyone adores her. She’s everything I’m not. I remember the first time she saw Emris. It was Guardians’ Day. I didn't have anyone to come for me, but he showed up. He was there for his sister, Teddy but I’ll never forget the way everyone stared as he walked straight up to me in the crowded hallway. The next day, Elena actually sought me out to ask me who he was. It was the first time our cheer instructor had ever spoken directly to me. I gave her his name, never imagining that simple answer would lead to them dating. Back then, I didn't care. I wasn't eighteen; the mate bond was silent, and Emris's life was his own. Now, everything is different. "Morning.” I say. Elena finally looks up from her phone. Even at 7 a.m., her blonde hair is bouncy and shiny. Makeup. She’s dressed in designer clothes plus perfumes. She’s obviously hoping to run into Emris, but he’s probably in the middle of his brutal gym session, followed by a wild run through the woods. He won't be back for at least an hour. "OMG! Demetra, right?" "Yeah. I should take your bags up—" I reach for one of the bold pink suitcases, but when I try to lift it, it doesn't even budge. "Did Emris send you to help me?" What does she think I am, his personal messenger? "Does he know I'm here already?" "No, Miss Elena." I reposition myself to wrestle with the luggage again. "Where is he? Still sleeping? Is he awake?" I give the stubborn bag a hard yank. "Can you give me an answer!?" There comes her irritation. I’d almost forgotten that behind that smile, she wears a lot of masks and her true personality is just plain evil. "I'm not sure, Miss Elena—" "Then, what use are you?" I pull the bag with all my might, and this time, it sends me backward. I lose my balance and crash to the floor just as Luna Derisha walks in with another guest. Oh no. “Elena, why are your luggage not taken yet!?” Luna Derisha’s asks. I get up quickly. “This weak omega—” Luna Derisha’s eyes narrow on me but she forces a smile for the guest. Elena’s mother, who’s watching the entire scene. “I’m sorry, Luna.” I step back. I know better than to be within arm’s reach when she’s like this; her slaps are swift. “Wow, her hair is so beautiful. She is such a beautiful young woman.” I see the muscle in Luna Derisha’s jaw twitch as the woman complements me. She hates any reminder of my mother, and my looks are the biggest reminder of all. Thankfully, Luna Derisha’s drivers come in and effortlessly haul the luggage away. “Luna, the tables are ready.” the head housekeeper announces. The moment they’re out of earshot, Luna Derisha turns on me. “I don’t even know your use in this house. All you do is fatten yourself on our food, yet your strength stays the same.” I stare at the ground. It’s better not to look at her. “Because of us, the sickly thing your mother gave birth to is growing. Your cream-white hair is getting longer. Your uniform is getting tighter on your body. Your hips are fattening like a wh0re’s, your…” She shakes her head in disgust. “It’s those same things your mother used to attract the lowest of the lows. Tell me, are you heading down the same path?” “No, Luna.” I answer quickly. “Get out of my sight! And did I not ask you to dye that hair black?” Someone calls Luna Derisha so her attention finally goes away from me. The moment she looks away. I feel a violent surge in my throat and I throw my hand against it. I don’t know if it’s the humiliation, the stress of the morning, or something else entirely, but I don’t wait to find out. I turn and run across the marble floors until I burst into the empty staff bathroom. I barely make it to the stall before my insides seem to rupture. I vomit and vomit and vomit until my stomach is empty. Tears are streaming down my face as I stare at myself in the mirror. Why am I vomiting? Is it the oats I ate last night? And then my brain decides to gives me an answer. Hey, remember that little monthly thing that ghosted you last month? Oh no. Oh, Moon Goddess… am I pregnant? Pregnant with Emris’ child? *** I change out of my uniform, into a pair of jeans and a top. I need a pregnancy test. Now. I've been sitting in front of the desk for the past three hours, trying to count days on a calendar, but it's useless. The problem is Emris. Our schedule last month was basically, all s3x. In his room, in mine, sometimes in a skyscraper hotel suite when his late-night meetings with the jet company ran long. Today is the 20th. No sign of my period. That can only mean one thing. We used protection… sometimes. When he remembered. Emris gets so lost in the claiming in a way that makes it impossible for either of us to think straight. I go out through the back kitchen, hoping to go unnoticed. "Where are you going?" Summer, my best friend blocks my path and shoves her hands into her flour-dusted apron, looking less like my ride-or-die and more like a very suspicious, pastry-based bouncer. "Luna Derisha is on a warpath today. So lucky you only answer to Emris. What's going on with you?" "Uh, I just have to run an errand—" "Ugh, don't even get me started. That Elena is such a snob. She brought thirty boxes of Louboutin, Chanel and had the nerve to ask if we'd ever touched anything like that. Please tell me a b1tch like that isn't going to be our next Luna." "Summer, if anyone hears you, you're going to lose your job." Paxton warns, he’s the assistant chef. "She's not wrong. Riley is arranging Elena’s closet right now. There are, like, a hundred pairs." Someone else says. "Guys, I really have to go." I try to sidestep them. But Paxton places a hand around my stomach region to stop me. He's always been overly concerned about me. "Are you okay? You look a bit…pale." Before I can answer, my eyes do a casual sweep past his shoulder to the kitchen's large glass windows. And I freeze. Emris is there, a million-foot tall on the gravel, making a phone call in his stuntman stature. He’s staring straight at us. Specifically, at Paxton’s hand, which is currently resting on the exact location of his potential future heir. For his own safety, and to prevent a murder in the parking lot, I crank up a smile. "I'm fine, Pax! Really. Just a quick trip into town. I’ll be back soon.” I hurry out to the gardens but a text lights up my phone from Emris. Just one word: Garage. I knew he wouldn’t let what he saw slide. His private garage is dim and it’s the first time we'd met here. The car Emris is in is a black Bentley that cost more than my life. With blue interior lights that make him a villain of a sci-fi movie. Emris unfolds himself from the seat. “You’re gonna use that nobody to make me jealous!” He has the most devastatingly handsome face I’ve ever seen. Skin like rich gold, messy black hair that looks better the more he runs his hands through it. He’s taller and stronger than any man I’ve ever known. I’ve felt the raw power in his thighs when they move under me, I’ve listened to the steady beat of his heart against my chest. It’s the universe’s cruellest joke that a voice so rough and harsh comes attached to a mouth that gives the softest kisses. “That’s not what I was doing.” “What was he about to touch?” “Emris, Paxton is just my friend. I’ve told you this over and over… he’s just looking out for me.” He rises to his full, ridiculous height. A skyscraper of a jealous Alpha he will soon become. I am forced to step back until I bump into another of his cars. He’s jealous. And when he’s jealous, he’s less a man and more a walking, talking grenade with the pin already pulled. “Looking out for you?” He tilts his neck in that specific way he does, a gesture that shows the tattoos on his throat and across his collarbones. I know they travel all the way down to his waist. I’ve traced them with my fingers before. “Because I don’t do enough looking out for you already!?” “Someone could see us. I should go—” “Get in.” I just stare at him in surprise. Emris has never, ever let me in the same car as him before, especially not while we're on pack grounds. This is breaking like twelve of his own rules. “If someone sees—” He drags me to the passenger side and pushes me in. Chapter 3 A moment later, he’s driving us smoothly away from the pack house, and I melt into the leather chair. “Where?” “Huh?” Emris hisses. “Where are you going? Don’t piss me off, Demetra.” “The, um… to the store.” “What could you possibly want from the store that you cannot get at the pack house!?” “Some hygiene products.” I squeakily lie. “And a new bra.” When we get to the shopping mall, his phone rings. Thank god, a distraction. He throws a black credit card at me without even looking, and I take it. I only accept because refusing would be a whole thing and I need him to be distracted. I go straight to the pharmacy section. My hands are literally shaking as I grab the test. I pay with my own cash and buy two, just to be sure. I also snag a random, overpriced bra I don’t need as my decoy. I lock myself in a bathroom stall and after ten minutes, my eyes instantly water when both tests show the result. Two pink lines. Two. I stare at myself in the mirror over the sink, looking again and again and again, as if my reflection will have a different answer. I’m pregnant. I’m pregnant with Emris’s child. I wipe the tears away, only for more to fall. It’s positive. Both tests are undeniably, life-falteringly positive. I stumble out of the stall and mumble an apology to the annoyed women waiting in line. I rush to the counter to pay for the bra, hastily wiping my cheeks and glancing out the mall to see if Emris is still in the car. My hands are shaking so badly I fumble the card, dropping it twice. As I turn from the counter, I bump hard into an older man and it sends my shopping bag and Emris's black credit card to the floor. "I'm so sorry!" I get to my knees to gather my things. The man bends down too and picks up the card. "Here you go—" "Thanks. I am so sorry, sir!" I repeat until he doesn't let go. I look up and see him staring at me with an expression of shock, so intense that the card in his hand actually trembles. "Sir…?" I try to pull it back. "What is your name?" he asks. "You look familiar. What pack are you from?" "Sir, please. I'm in a hurry." I finally manage to tug the card from his fingers but the encounter is far from over. "Alpha?" I look up to see a guy who must be a million inches tall, built like a valley, standing behind the older man. Did he just call him... Alpha? The older man ignores his guard or is it his Beta to continue staring at me. "You have white hair. You….you have white hair.” Why’s he looking at me like he's seen a ghost. Yes, I have white hair and so? My mind is reeling from the pregnancy tests, and now this? Will Emris accept the pregnancy? Will Emris be happy when I tell him? Will Luna Derisha kill me when she finds out I’ve been sleeping with her son? The future heir of the pack. The Beta speaks. "Alpha, you don't think she is—" “Please, have my business card.” The older man presses an embossed card into my hand but I don’t take it. “Sir, I don’t understand what you are saying or doing—” “I am searching for my daughter. She has white hair, just like…” “I am not your daughter!” A father is the last thing I have or need on this earth. “Dad?” Another young man, handsome and well-dressed, walks up, addressing the older man. The moment his eyes land on me, his jaw goes slack. While I’m distracted by the son’s stunned reaction, the older man quickly slips his business card into the palm of my hand and closes my fingers around it. And at that exact moment, Emris enters. One look at his eyes and I know I’m in deep, deep trouble. “You.” Emris voice makes everyone look in our direction. I rush to the side of the living temptress I call my mate, thinking he’s furious with me, but his eyes are on the group of men. “Emris, son of Alpha Kael.” the older man says. “I haven't seen you since your father’s death—” “Don’t start with me, old foolish man!” My mate hisses. The son of the older man comes close. “It’s me you hate, Emris. Leave my father out of it. After all, only one of us still has a father left.” The male insults the devastating storm that is my Alpha and walks out the door. The older man follows, and the hefty Beta is the last to exit. “Everyone. Leave.” Emris’s voice isn’t loud, but the store employees and customers run for the exits. Including the owner of the establishment. I don’t think there’s a soul in West Virginia who doesn’t know who Emris is, or the danger that radiates from him. As soon as everyone leaves, I start to explain. “I’m sorry I took so long. My… my stuff fell and—” “First, you throw that puppy, Paxton, in my face. And now I find you cozying up to that dying old man Ronin and his waste-of-space son, Slade. Are you seriously this desperate for attention, or just profoundly stupid?” My eyes widen in genuine shock. That was Slade? The rival Alpha Emris has hated since they were boys? The one from the Lion Pride pack? “I swear, Emris, I didn’t know—” I don’t get to finish when kicks a nearby display, sending a whole aisle of canned goods to the floor. “Why are you doing this!?” I clamp my hands over my ears. “Why am I doing this!?” He kicks another shelf which topples like dominoes, scattering products everywhere before he storms back to me. “I saw him slip you his card. What’s your price, Demetra? Huh? Was my bed not enough of a platform for you to audition for your next role? Are you planning to be Slade’s new step-mom or Slade’s little wh0re? After acting so damn pure with me, refusing the things I try to give you… you come here to meet with Slade? To become his wh0re, just like you are to me?” Emris’ words don’t just hurt. They dissolve me. The heat behind my eyes instantly melts into tears that stream down my face. “W-wh0re? You are the only person I have ever been with!” “Then what do you call a person who is available for me to use morning and night? A convenience. You clean up my messes and warm my bed. I didn't call you anything you haven't proven yourself to be. Now, take whatever pathetic offer that old man gave you and get the hell out of my life forever.” Emris turns to leave but I run after him, furious tears blinding me as I throw my arms around his back like an idiot. “How can you call me that!?” I weep on his shirt. Emris pries my hands off with cold strength. “I saw it with my own eyes. I saw the interaction—” “I tried so hard! I refused your gifts, your money… I did everything I could so you would never, ever look at me that way! But at the end of the day, this is what you think of me? You have no heart, Emris. You are dark. You are…” I gasp for air as the insult dies on my tongue. “I am Alpha! My father is dead and I will be Alpha soon. If you’re still in my territory when I formalize my title, I will personally escort you down the Walk of Judgment. I’ll make sure the entire pack knows exactly what you are.” The Walk of Judgment is a nightmare. A walk of shame where the pack forces you out while throwing filth at you, sometimes tearing the clothes from your back. It’s the ultimate disgrace before being cast out to become a rogue. And he just threatened me with it. I force Emris to face me again. “It’s me, Demetra! Why are you acting this way? It was a misunderstanding! I didn’t know that was Slade! I didn’t know who they were!” “And he gave you a card. You might be naive enough to believe that was a coincidence, but I’m not, Demetra. So much for loyalty. How long has this been going on? How long have you been spreading your legs for Slade? Or is the old man getting a turn, too?” Emris insults are too much so I slap him! His head snaps to the side. Once I do that, there is only the sound of his breathing. His chest begins to rise, and rise, and rise so I move away. “We’re done.” Emris storms out. I watch through the glassed door as he speaks to the mall owner before getting into his car and speeding away, leaving me in the wreckage. Chapter 4 Slowly, I sink to my knees and weep from my lungs so deep it feels like it will break me. I am inconsolable, lost in a storm of tears when a timid voice speaks. “Miss? The… the man said you are the one to clean up the mess he made.” I look up at the mall owner and I frown into tears. How can we be over when I carry a new life, a part of him, inside my belly? I get back to the pack house a little past midnight. My body aches everywhere…. like even my bones are tired. I don’t bother turning on the light; I just crawl into bed and start crying all over again. The kind of crying that makes your throat hurt. Slade. Of all people, it had to be him. Emris hates Slade more than he hates any other enemy. He’s the son of Alpha Ronni from the Lion Pride Pack. The Lion Pride Pack and the Black Covenant share a territory….joined by waters, separated by Alphas. They’re rich, powerful but Emris would rather die than be in the same room as them. I didn’t even recognize them! The older man just… he thought I was someone else. My phone glows in the dark: 2:17 AM. A part of me still wants to go to him, to tell him again that this is a mistake. Maybe if he just listens one more time, he’ll see it. Why does loving him make me feel like such an idiot? I know deep down he doesn’t deserve it. He doesn’t deserve me. And yet… I still do. When I finally wake up, it’s because someone’s tapping my arm. “Demetra!” It’s the head chef’s voice. “Goodness, child, I thought you were dead for a second. Do you realize you’ve slept two hours past your shift? Emris’ suite—” Once I see it’s morning, I leap out of bed and dash into the bathroom. I’m so dead. I’m supposed to clean Emris’s room before he gets back from the gym. If even one of his stupid, expensive things is out of place, he throws a fit. Then he’s late for breakfast, and the whole pack knows it’s my fault. I shower and throw on my uniform then take the elevator straight up to the penthouse level. I start planning my apology in my head as I move into Emris’ floor. Suddenly, I stop because standing right in the middle of the living room are Elena and Luna Derisha. And Luna Derisha is holding something lacy and blue between her fingers. My bra. It’s the one Emris took yesterday. The one I told him, over and over, to give back. I forget how to breathe but I have to say something. “Lu… Luna.” Luna Derisha’s violet eyes look almost black. “Who owns this?” I rub my hands on my apron like that’ll make me look less guilty. “Um… I don’t know.” I lie. The door behind me swings open and Radu fills the threshold like a dark mountain. He is the Luna’s gamma, the wolf everyone hushes for in the halls. He’s the one who rescued Emris after he was kidnapped and caged for two years as a kid. Radu doesn’t waste words, he only growls and moves when the Luna says so. Seeing him here means this isn’t just a scolding; it’s an execution. “You fucking slut! You’re trying to seduce my son. You put your bra in my son’s closet.” Elena shakes her head. “How old are you to be acting so shameless? You’re at least seven years younger than Emris!?” “Luna, it’s not… it’s not mine.” “It smells like you. Filthy. My son, who is going to be Alpha, is the person you’re trying to seduce? You’re just like that maggot of a mother who gave birth to you! That b1tch spread her legs for every man in the pack just to climb the ladder, and you ended up following the worst of her traits—” Her hot hand snatches my hair! Then, Luna Derisha uses it to bring to my knees. It’s so painful, so utterly painful and shocking that I taste metal and then white light. I see a bunch of my hair in her hands and then I feel blood coming from my scalp. I look up in tears. “It’s not yours. Fine. We’ll test it, then. Bring her downstairs where all the pack employees look. I will use this b1tch as a lesson.” “Luna, please! Luna, please!” My screams are short as Radu’s massive hand closes around my ankle. He doesn’t even lift me; he just uses my own body to drag me across the floor. My uniform rides as I twist and kick, but it doesn’t matter. By the time we reach the hall downstairs, every pack employee is there. Cooks, cleaners, security, everyone is looking at me at the centre. I’m trembling on my knees. I’ve always feared Luna Derisha, but never like this. Never when Emris isn’t here to stop her. “I hope you’re all watching…” Elena says loudly. “This is what happens to anyone who thinks they can seduce the future Alpha. Your little colleague here hid her bra in his closet, and now she’s pretending it isn’t hers.” Luna Derisha tosses the fabric at my face. “If you say it’s not yours, prove it.” I am not able to stop shaking. “But Luna….” the head chef speaks up for me. “In front of everyone?” “Are you questioning me?” “Apologies, Luna! Apologies!” I crawl forward on my hands and knees in tears. I grab the hem of Luna Derisha’s designer dress. “Please. Forgive me. I’ll never do anything like this again. Please.” “Luna, I’m begging you. Pleaseee-“ “You should have thought of that before you tried to disgrace my family.” Luna Derisha looks at Radu and I hear his boots coming forward. I feel Radu’s hands on the back of my uniform and the fabric rips straight down my back. I scream, trying to cover myself. “Rip the bra, too so she can try this one.” Radu obeys. The straps of my own bra snap, and I sob, using my long white hair as a pathetic curtain to hide my body. Through the veil of my hair, I see some of the male employees turn their backs so they don’t watch. The girls just stare in horror. I am n@ked, on my knees, utterly broken. Through, my sobs, I hear the one sound that could make this worse. The sound of the Luna’s sons. Emris. Silver and Regan. I’m shivering, n@ked and exposed on my knees, when I look up and see them standing there. “What the hell is going on here!?” Emris yells, looking at me. Elena and Luna Derisha spin around. They hadn’t seen him come in. “Mom, what the hell.” Silver says. Regan, the other brother, just chuckles. “Isn’t she Emris’s pretty little housekeeper?” “No, she is her mother’s daughter!” Luna Derisha shrieks. “And I don’t care what you say today, I will punish her mercilessly! Put on the bra, now!” I squeeze my eyes shut. I will rather die right here than be humiliated any further. “Demetra!” I hear Paxton’s voice, and he’s already at my side. Before I can say anything, he uses his own chef’s coat as a wrap around my shoulders. “Paxton.” I shake my head. “She needs more cover!” He yells to anyone who’ll listen and for a second, I think he might fight them all. “Paxton!?” Susan, the head chef calls out to warn him but he doesn’t answer. Then I hear a rumbling growl from Radu. My eyes dart up just in time to see the massive Gamma take a step forward to make an example of Radu but Emris moves faster. He doesn’t go for Radu. He goes straight for Paxton, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and yanking him away from me. “The Luna gives an order and you bring yourself into the middle of it!” I can see it in Emris eyes. This isn’t just about the Luna’s command. This is all the jealousy he’s been holding for Paxton, finally finding a public excuse to explode. “Demetra would never try to seduce you! There has to be some mistake!” Paxton chokes in Emris’s grip. “We all know Demetra! She’s kind, she’s content, and she’s worked her entire life for this pack!” Emris’s eyes flash with a dark, wicked fire. “What are you… her little lover?” I watch, horrified, as his hand tightens around Paxton’s throat. Paxton’s face begins to turn a terrifying shade of purple. “Stop!” I yell. “If I were her lover, so what?” Paxton gasps. “Are we so little to you that we are not worth your love, too? If I were, what does it even matter to—” Emris hurls Paxton across the room into the bar cellar in an explosion of shattering glass and wood. The crowd screams, some scatter in fear, others rush to help him. I get up to see if he’s okay. But Emris has something to say to me. “Get out of my pack now!” The shout makes my whole wolf skitter and break in half. Chapter 5 “But you know I have only you.” I whisper. I need him to remember. I need him to remember that in this entire, cruel world, he’s the only one I have. “What the hell do you mean by that!?” Elena inserts herself. Emris eyes are empty. “You have ten minutes to leave the pack house. If she doesn’t, Radu makes sure she leaves with a claw mark as a souvenir.” Then he walks away. Susan is the first to reach me. “Come on, sweetheart, quickly!” When we reach my room, she lets go so I can pack. I pull on a shirt with trembling hands. My fingers fumble with the zipper of an old bag I drag out from the closet. My chest hurts; my throat burns. I’m shaking so badly it’s hard to fold anything right. I keep thinking: I’m pregnant. I’m pregnant, and I have nowhere to go. No one to call family. My mate, the only person I ever thought I had just destroyed me. With five minutes left before Radu comes, I can’t breathe. That’s when I see the business card Alpha Ronni gave me, lying at the corner of my mirror table. His name, his number. I grab it. When I step out, Summer, Susan, and the others are waiting in the hallway. One by one, they hug me quickly, whispering goodbyes. I don’t trust myself to speak so I just keep moving before I fall apart. Downstairs, Luna Derisha is waiting. Silver and Regan step aside to let me through. “Elena?” Luna says lightly, “just promise me that right after you and Emris are married, you’ll give me a grandchild.” Elena smiles. “Of course, Mother-in-law.” I press a trembling hand to my stomach and swallow the scream sitting in my throat. Emris, I swear you’ll never know that I left with a part of you. I leave the Black Covenant Pack house and I don’t look back. Outside the gate, I just carry my light bag and think. Do I call? Do I not? Alpha Ronni barely knows me. No one outside this territory even knows me. I check my wallet and there’s a few bucks at most. Luna Derisha always said food and a bed were my payment so I can’t even afford a motel. I need help. I take out my phone, type in the number on the card, and call. “Hello?” I try not to cry. “Yes… um, I’m Demetra.” I stammer into the phone. “We met — at the store. I was with Emris that day. You are Alpha Ronni—” There’s a pause, then a deep, surprised voice. “Yes, you. I can’t believe you’re calling. Are you all right?” “I…I’m sorry to bother you, Alpha. I just… I have nowhere else to go. That’s why I called.” Silence. I hear my own heartbeat. My mind starts racing and I think what am I doing? He’s an Alpha. I shouldn’t even be calling him. “Never mind. I shouldn’t be calling you. You’re—” “Where are you right now?” “I’m just outside the Black Covenant gates.” I look around me. “I’ll send an escort. A convoy of cars. You’ll be brought to safety at once. Don’t move. Do you understand me?” “Yes…yes Alpha.” The line goes dead, and I clutch the phone to my chest. I look down at my belly and make a promise that Emris will never get to know of my child. He will search for me but he will never find. This heart will never forgive him. This heart will never forgive everyone in the Black covenant pack. *** Five years later. West Virginia Airport. “Tired?” My dad, Alpha Ronin, wraps his hand around mine in the first-class seat. It’s warm. Six hours from Manila and my butt is sore. “I’m beyond tired.” I mumble through a yawn and glance sideways. “She’s still asleep?” Amira, my daughter is hugging Grandpa’s arms with her mouth slightly open after being a menace the entire flight. The air hostess approaches, politely informing us that the path is clear for us to leave the plane. I start gathering my laptop, my sketchbook, pens— “Mr. Pride, Miss. Pride, this way.” We don’t lift a finger. Not for the bags, not for anything. The moment our feet touch the ground, a black car is already waiting to take us straight from the plane One of the many, many perks of being the daughter of the Alpha of the Lion pack. It still feels a little like playing dress-up, like any minute someone’s going to tap me on the shoulder and say, “Okay, fun’s over. Back to being the Black covenant’s charity case.” Five years ago, I called the number on that business card, not knowing I was dialing my own future. Back then in that store, Alpha Ronin recognized me not because he knew me…but because he knew my mother. A one-night stand. A mistake. Or maybe fate being cruelly efficient. White hair is pretty rare for wolves. Most people bleach or dye it, trying to look cool or intimidating. So it’s hard to spot a true one in the wild. But Alpha Ronin said he saw her in my face and the shape of my eyes. He had to be sure if I was his. When I called him, a fleet of cars arrived like and I was taken to the Lion Pack estate. They didn’t treat me like a stray. They treated me like a person. Like family, even before we knew for sure. That was when I met Slade. My half-brother. Then Alpha Ronin said my mother’s name and suddenly, everything clicked. The Black Covenant Pack had told me the history of my mother and since Alpha Ronin claimed he had a one-night stand with her, I agreed for a DNA test. It proved that Alpha Ronin was my father. All that time, I’d been an Alpha’s daughter, living on my knees. All those years I spent surviving as a charity case, I was the daughter of an Alpha. I nursed my broken heart for a year straight. Some days it nearly kills me but I survived because I wasn’t not alone. Then I give birth to Amira. And somehow, I break all over again. She has Emris’ hair. His eyebrows. His face hiding in hers so clearly it hurts to look at her for too long. Every time I hold her, the truth settles deeper into my bones that she is going to grow up without knowing her father. He doesn’t know she exists. And even if he did… I’m not sure he would care. That thought almost destroyed me. But Amira also saves me. I find strength in her tiny hands, in the way she curls against my chest like I’m her entire world. My dad notices the way I’m fading so he makes the decision for me when I’m too weak to make it myself. I need to leave the country so I choose Paris without really thinking. It sounds far away enough. I don’t realize what it will become until I’m standing inside the most beautiful house I’ve ever seen…flowers everywhere, gardens and that’s where I begin to paint. I paint my pain. I paint my past. I paint my heartbreak. I put every ounce of "him" and every ounce of onto those canvases. I shut out the entire world, focused only on my little girl and the colors on my palette. I started going to art school, not to find myself, but to prove I could. And then I sold my first piece. The first bidder wanted it for hundreds of millions. Just like that, I wasn't just Demetra. I was Demetra Pride, the millionaire artist who came out of nowhere. That sale did something more than fill my bank account. It gave me a new bone structure, one made of confidence. I believed I could do anything. In Paris, dad retires from leading the pack just to be with me and his granddaughter. For a while, it’s just us but now… after five years, we are back. We’ve returned to support Slade as he fully takes the reins of the pack. And Dad… he says it’s my duty, too. To help run it alongside my brother. He doesn’t want Amira growing up away from her entire family, from her legacy. I’m ready. I no longer nurse a broken heart. I have nothing to run from anymore. When we arrive at the pack house, everyone is already waiting. Dad squeezes my hand as we walk toward the entrance. "Ready, cub?" That’s his nickname for me. I squeeze back. "Born ready."

My husband divorced me for his mistress, and my children chose her over me. On the brink of suic/de, I'm saved by my childhood friend Alex, now a billionaire. He asks, "Do you want revenge?" The ballroom sparkled with golden lights. Lucia stood near the entrance in her blue dress, the one she bought just for tonight. She kept touching her necklace. The silver one. Marco gave it to her on their first date. People smiled. Friends. Family. Neighbors. They said congratulations. They said everything looked beautiful. She planned it all. Every flower. Every candle. Every tiny detail. "Mrs. Hart, you look so happy," someone said. She was happy. She thought she was. The door opened. Marco walked in with a woman. Young. Maybe twenty-five. Blonde hair. Red dress tight against her body. She held Marco's arm like she owned him. Lucia's smile died. The room got smaller. Hotter. She couldn't breathe right. Marco looked at her. His eyes were cold. Empty. "Everyone, listen up." His voice cut through everything. The music. The laughter. The joy. The room went silent. Everyone turned. Stared at him. At the woman. At Lucia. "This is Margaret," Marco said. No feeling in his voice. Nothing. "I'm leaving Lucia for her." The words punched into Lucia's chest. She couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. What? "We've been together for two years." Marco's voice stayed calm. Like this was normal. "Margaret is moving into the house. Lucia's things are packed. They're in the garage." Two years. She made his breakfast. Washed his shirts. Slept beside him. Kissed him goodnight. Two years of lies. "Marco." Her voice cracked. "This is our anniversary. Our party. The children..." "The children know," Margaret said. Sweet voice. Too sweet. "They've known for months. They support us." No. Where were they? Ria? Lucas? Monica? There. Corner of the room. All three standing together. Ria stared at her. Sixteen with Marco's eyes. She crossed her arms. "Mom, just sign the papers. You're making this harder than it needs to be." The words cut. Deep. "Ria, baby, I don't..." "Dad's been unhappy for years," Lucas said. Fifteen. Her boy who used to be scared of thunder. "We all knew. Everyone knew except you." Monica giggled. Thirteen. The baby Lucia still tucked in at night sometimes. "Margaret takes us shopping. She actually listens to us. You never do." Lucia's legs shook. The floor tilted. Was she falling? Standing? She didn't know anymore. "I gave you everything." She looked at Marco. The man she loved. The man she believed in. "Everything I had." "You gave too much," Marco said. He pulled papers from his jacket. Divorce papers. "You smothered me. Margaret gives me freedom. She makes me feel like a man again." Margaret smiled. Victory written all over her face. "Sign them." Marco held out a pen. "Here?" Tears filled Lucia's eyes. "Now? In front of everyone?" "You're embarrassing yourself," Ria said. "Just do it already." People watched. Some turned away. Others whispered. Some pulled out phones. Taking pictures. Recording. Her pain as entertainment. Lucia's hand shook. She took the pen. The paper blurred. She couldn't read it. Didn't matter. She signed anyway. Her name looked strange. Broken. Not hers. Marco grabbed the papers. Folded them. Put them away. No thank you. No sorry. Nothing. "Leave now," Margaret said. "Your boxes are labeled. Don't take anything that isn't yours." "That house..." Lucia's voice was barely there. "I made it a home." "It's in my name," Marco said. "Always was. You have no claim." Ria stepped closer. "Mom, seriously. Everyone's uncomfortable. Just leave." "Yeah," Lucas said. "This is awkward." Monica laughed again. High. Cruel. Lucia looked at them. Her babies. She carried them. Fed them. Loved them. They looked at her like trash. "I loved you," she whispered. To all of them. "So much." "Not enough," Marco said. He pulled Margaret close. Kissed her. Right there. In front of Lucia. In front of everyone. Some people gasped. Others cheered. Lucia's feet moved. One step. Another. Through the crowd. Out the door. Rain. Heavy and cold. It soaked her dress in seconds. The special dress. Ruined now. She walked. Didn't know where. Her feet hurt in the heels but she kept going. Past houses with warm lights. Families inside. Real families. The tears came. Hot against her cold face. Her whole body shook. Remember when Ria took her first steps? Right into Lucia's arms. Lucia cried then too. Happy tears. Remember when Lucas learned to ride a bike? He fell. Scraped his knee. Lucia held him. Kissed it better. Remember when Monica drew that picture in kindergarten? Four stick figures holding hands. "That's us, Mommy. Our family." Gone. All of it. She fell. Her knees hit wet concrete. Hands in dirty water. She didn't get up. Couldn't. Thunder. Lightning. The sky was angry. Like her insides. Her phone buzzed. She pulled it out. Message from Marco. "Don't contact the children. Don't contact me. Move on." Move on. Like it was easy. Like she could just forget. Another message. Ria. "Mom, you're so dramatic. We're all happier without you. Accept it." The phone slipped from her hand. Fell into water. Screen went black. She stayed there. On her knees. Water soaking through her dress to her skin. Cold. So cold. Cars passed. No one stopped. She was nothing. Nobody wanted her. Not her husband. Not her children. Nobody. The necklace. She grabbed it. The silver one Marco gave her. Twenty years ago. When he said he loved her. When he promised forever. Lies. She ripped it off. The chain broke. She threw it into the street. Her makeup ran down her face in black streaks. Her hair stuck to her cheeks. Her dress clung heavy to her body. She tried to stand. Her legs wouldn't work right. They shook. Weak. Finally up. Barely. She looked back at the ballroom. The lights still glowed. Music still played. They were still celebrating. Without her. Celebrating her ending. A sound came from her throat. Half laugh. Half sob. Wrong. Broken. She turned away. Started walking again. Water in her shoes. Each step hurt. Where was she going? Didn't matter. She had nowhere. No home. Marco took it. No family. They chose Margaret. No money. Everything was in Marco's name. Nothing. She had nothing. The street blurred. More tears. Or maybe just the water running into her eyes. Remember their wedding day? Marco said she was beautiful. He said he'd never leave. He promised. Liar. Remember Ria's birth? Sixteen hours of labor. Worth it. Every second. To hold her baby. That baby just told her to leave. Remember Lucas's first word? Mama. He said mama. He reached for her. That boy said everyone knew except her. Like she was stupid. Remember Monica's first day of school? She cried. Didn't want Lucia to go. Held onto her leg. That girl laughed at her. In front of everyone. How? How did they all stop loving her? When did it happen? Was she blind? Stupid? Was she really that bad? Her chest hurt. Actual physical pain. Like something inside was tearing apart. She stopped walking. Middle of the sidewalk. Water pooled around her feet. A woman passed by. Looked at her. Looked away quick. Kept walking. Another person. A man. He crossed the street to avoid her. She was that woman now. The one people avoided. The one they pitied. The one they whispered about. Did you hear? Her husband left her at their anniversary party. For a younger woman. Even her kids don't want her. Poor thing. She didn't want pity. She wanted her life back. Her family. Her home. Her heart. But it was gone. All of it. She started walking again. Had to keep moving. If she stopped she might never start again. The water kept falling. Getting harder. Heavier. Her whole body was numb now. From cold. From pain. From everything. Somewhere a dog barked. A car horn honked. Normal sounds. Normal night. For everyone else. For her, everything ended. She thought about going back. Begging. Maybe if she said sorry. Maybe if she promised to change. Be better. Be whatever Marco wanted. No. She saw his face. Cold. Done with her. She saw Margaret. Smiling. Winning. She saw her children. Looking at her like she was nothing. They didn't want her back. They wanted her gone. She was gone now. Walking in the dark. In the rain. Alone. Her shoes rubbed blisters into her feet. She took them off. Held them in one hand. Kept walking barefoot. The concrete was rough. Cold. Hurt her feet. Good. The pain was good. It meant she was still real. Still here. Still something. Even if that something was broken. She passed a store window. Saw her reflection. Didn't recognize herself. Hair wild. Face streaked. Dress hanging off her body. She looked destroyed. She was destroyed. Somewhere behind her the party continued. Marco and Margaret probably dancing now. Her children probably eating cake. Laughing. Happy. Without her. Like she never mattered at all. The thought made her stomach turn. She bent over. Nothing came up. Just dry heaving. Her body trying to reject reality. She straightened up. Kept walking. Had to keep walking. Didn't know where. Didn't know why. Just knew she couldn't stop. Because if she stopped, if she stood still, she might break into pieces so small no one could ever put her back together. So she walked. Alone. Barefoot. In the rain that wouldn't stop falling. Chapter 2 Lucia didn't plan to walk to the bridge. Her feet just took her there. The river below was black. Angry. Water rushing fast and loud. She gripped the railing. Metal cold. Wet. Slippery. How did she get here? Just walking. Walking. Then the bridge. The water below looked like it could swallow everything. All the hurt. All the pain. Her phone buzzed. Marco. "Where are you? People are asking questions. You're embarrassing me." She stared at the screen. Her fingers shook. Embarrassing him. Another buzz. "Answer me, Lucia. Don't make this worse than it already is." She didn't respond. Her phone kept buzzing. Message after message. "If you're trying to get attention, it won't work. I'm done with your drama. Answer me now." "You're being childish." "Grow up, Lucia." "Think about the children. You're embarrassing them too." The children. But Marco was worried about embarrassing them? She looked at the railing. At the gap between the bars. No job. She stopped working when Ria was born. Marco said they didn't need her income. Said she should focus on the family. So she did. No career. No money of her own. Nothing. Where was she supposed to go? The house was Margaret's. Everything in Marco's name. Her friends? Couple friends. Marco's work friends and their wives. They'd pick his side. Her family? Her parents died five years ago. Car accident. She had no siblings. No one. The river kept rushing below. Her phone buzzed again. "Fine. Don't answer. But you're signing more papers tomorrow. My lawyer will contact you. Don't make this difficult." She turned the phone off. Shoved it in her pocket. Before Marco, there was someone else. Not a boyfriend. A friend. Alexander. Alex. Her best friend since she was seven. They grew up on the same street. Rode bikes together. Did homework together. Told each other everything. When she got engaged to Marco, Alex stopped talking to her. Just like that. One day they were best friends. The next day he was gone. She tried calling. Texting. He never answered. That was eighteen years ago. She hadn't seen him since. Another person who left her. Who would want her now? No job. No skills. No money. Three kids who hated her. No one. She climbed onto the first bar of the railing. Her bare feet slipped. She gripped tighter. The water looked closer. Darker. Her heart pounded against her ribs. Ria with tiny fingers wrapped around her thumb. Lucia used to sing lullabies. Made up songs. That baby told her to leave tonight. Lucas scared of shadows. Loud noises. Dogs. Lucia held him through it all. That boy said everyone knew Marco was unhappy. Except stupid Lucia. Monica. Pink and screaming and perfect when she was born. That girl laughed when Lucia signed the divorce papers. How did she lose them? The rain fell harder. Her dress stuck to her skin. Heavy. She climbed higher. Second bar. Her feet barely fit. She wobbled. The water roared below. What would happen if she jumped? Marco would be relieved. No messy divorce. He'd comfort Margaret. Play the grieving husband. Poor Marco. So tragic. The kids would be fine. They had Margaret. They didn't need Lucia. Nobody did. What was the point? Get a job at a store? Rent a tiny apartment? Start over? Her bones hurt. Her heart hurt. Everything hurt. Maybe it was easier to just stop. She looked down at the water. It didn't look scary anymore. It looked peaceful. Final. She let go with one hand. Held on with just the other. The wind pushed against her. She closed her eyes. Took a breath. Sorry, Mom. Sorry, Dad. She let go with the other hand. For a second she just stood there. Balanced. Then her foot slipped. Wet metal. No grip. She was falling. No. Wait. Her arms flailed. Reaching for anything. Just air. The water rushed up. Wrong wrong wrong. She wanted to scream but her throat closed. Falling. Fast. A sound behind her. Footsteps? Running? She didn't have time to look. The wind howled in her ears. Or was that her own breath? Her own terror? Faster. The water below black and waiting. Her dress whipped around her legs. Her hair flew into her face. This was it. Then something grabbed her arm. Hard. A hand. Strong fingers wrapped around her wrist. Squeezed. Held tight. The falling stopped. She hung there. One arm stretched up. The other dangling. Body swinging over the water. The hand pulled. She rose a little. But her wrist was slippery. Wet from the rain. The grip started to slide. No no no. She swung her other arm up. Desperate. Clawing at air. The hand adjusted. Grabbed tighter. Different angle now. Both hands gripping her arm. Pulling. Her shoulder burned. Felt like it might rip out of the socket. But she was rising. Inch by inch. Thunder cracked overhead. Lightning lit up the sky for a second. In that flash she saw the water below. Close. So close. Her feet kicked. Found nothing. Just empty space. The hand kept pulling. Strong. Steady. Not letting go. She scrambled with her feet. Finally touched the railing. Cold metal agai nst her toes. She pushed. The hand pulled. Then she was over. Back on the bridge. She collapsed. Hands and knees on wet concrete. Gasping. Shaking. The hand stayed on her shoulder. Steady. Warm despite everything. Chapter 3 Lucia looked up. Rain poured down his face. Dark hair plastered to his forehead. But those eyes. Brown. Familiar. "Alex?" Her voice came out hoarse. "It's me." He knelt beside her on the wet concrete. "You're okay now." Alexander Kane. Her best friend. The one who vanished eighteen years ago. Here. Saving her. She couldn't process it. Her brain felt foggy. "Can you stand?" he asked. She didn't know. Could she? He helped her up. Her legs shook. He wrapped an arm around her waist. "My car is just over there." He pointed. "Let me take you somewhere dry." She nodded. Couldn't speak. He guided her across the bridge. Each step felt wrong. Like she shouldn't be walking. Shouldn't be breathing. His car was black. Expensive looking. He opened the passenger door. Helped her inside. The seat was leather. Soft. She sank into it. He got in the driver's side. Started the engine. Heat blasted from the vents. "Where do you live?" he asked. "I'll take you home." Home. The word stabbed. "I can't." The words stuck. "Marco. He. The house." She couldn't finish. Alex looked at her. At her ruined dress. Her bare feet. Her destroyed face. "Okay," he said quietly. "You'll come to my place then." She wanted to say no. But where would she go? So she said nothing. He drove. She stared out the window. Buildings passed. Lights blurred. They drove for twenty minutes. Then he turned onto a long driveway. Trees lined both sides. Tall. The driveway went on forever. Then she saw it. A mansion. Actual mansion with columns and big windows and gardens. "You live here?" The words came out small. "Yeah." He parked in front of wide stone steps. "Come on." The front door was huge. Wood with carvings. He pushed it open. Inside was. She didn't have words. Marble floors. A staircase that curved up. Paintings. A chandelier hanging from the ceiling. "This way." Alex led her through hallways. Past rooms she couldn't look at properly. Her mind was too tired. He stopped at a door. Opened it. "Guest room. The bathroom is through there." He pointed. "Take a hot shower. I'll find you something to wear." She walked in. The room was bigger than the bedroom she used to have. Used to. Past tense. The bed had white sheets. Fluffy pillows. "Lucia." Alex's voice made her turn. "You're safe here. Okay?" He left. Closed the door. She stood there. Dripping water on expensive carpet. The bathroom. Right. She walked through the door. Marble everywhere. A tub big enough to swim in. A shower with glass walls. She turned on the water. Steam filled the space. She peeled off her dress. It fell in a wet heap. She stepped into the shower. The water burned her skin. She didn't care. She stood under the spray until her fingers pruned. When she got out, there were towels. Big. Soft. White. And clothes on the counter. A t-shirt. Sweatpants. Too big for her. Must be Alex's. She put them on. Rolled up the pants. Back in the bedroom, she sat on the edge of the bed. Stared at her hands. A knock on the door. "Come in," she said. Alex walked in with a tray. A mug. Steam rising from it. "Tea," he said. "Chamomile. My daughter swears by it." Daughter. Alex had a daughter. Eighteen years. People had whole lives in that time. "Thank you." She took the mug. Wrapped her hands around it. He sat in a chair across from the bed. "Do you want to talk about it?" "Marco left me." The words tumbled out. "Tonight. At our anniversary party. In front of everyone. He's been with someone else for two years. The kids knew. They wanted him to leave me." Saying it made it real. Made it hurt more. "I'm sorry," Alex said. "Why were you on that bridge?" she asked. He was quiet for a moment. "I was driving home. Saw someone on the railing. I stopped." "You didn't know it was me?" "Not until I grabbed you." He leaned forward. "Lucia, what were you doing?" She couldn't answer that. "I didn't know where else to go," she whispered instead. "You can stay here. As long as you need." "I can't." "Why not?" Because she'd already taken too much from people. Because she was a burden. "Stay," Alex said. "At least for a week. Figure out your next steps." A week. Then what? But she nodded. "Try to sleep," Alex said. He stood. Walked to the door. "I'm down the hall if you need anything." He left. She put the mug on the nightstand. Lay down. Pulled the covers up. The sheets smelled clean. Fresh. Nothing like before. She closed her eyes. Didn't think she'd sleep. But exhaustion pulled her under anyway. When she woke, sunlight streamed through the windows. Bright. Harsh. For a second she didn't know where she was. Then it all came back. She sat up. Her body ached. Her head pounded. A clock on the nightstand said 9:47. Her phone. Where was her phone? She found it on the dresser. Alex must have brought it in. She turned it on. Messages flooded in. Marco. Seventeen of them. She scrolled past those. Then she saw one from an unknown number. She opened it. "Hi Lucia! It's Margaret. Marco gave me your number. Hope you don't mind! Quick question, where do you keep your face products? I want to try your routine. Your skin always looked so glowy!" Lucia stared at the screen. Face products? She hadn't used face products in years. Just soap. Water. Whatever was cheap at the store. But Margaret thought. Margaret assumed. Another message came through. "Also, do you have a specific brand for your hair? It always looked so shiny!" Shiny. Lucia touched her hair. Dry. Frizzy. Damaged from years of cheap shampoo. She wanted to throw the phone. Wanted to scream. But she did nothing. Just turned the phone off. Put it back on the dresser. A knock on the door. "Come in," she said. The door burst open. A girl bounced in. Curly dark hair. Big smile. Energy radiating off her. "Hi! You're awake! Dad said not to bother you but I couldn't wait anymore. I'm Lena!" Lena. Alex's daughter. "Hi," Lucia managed. "Dad said you're staying with us for a bit. That's so cool. We never have guests. Well, we do but they're boring business people. You're different. I can tell." The girl talked fast. Bright. Bubbly. "I'm Lucia," she said. "I know! Dad told me. He said you were friends a long time ago. Like before I was born." Lena sat on the edge of the bed. Uninvited but somehow not intrusive. "How old are you?" Lucia asked. "Fifteen. Well, fifteen and a half." Same age as Lucas. The thought stabbed. "Are you okay?" Lena's smile faded. "You look sad." "I'm fine," Lucia lied. "Dad says that too. When he's not fine. Adults always say they're fine." Smart kid. "I have kids," Lucia said. Didn't know why she said it. "Three of them." "Cool! Where are they?" "They don't want me." Lena's face scrunched up. "That's stupid. Kids always want their moms." If only. "My mom died," Lena said. Casual. "Cancer. I was five. I barely remember her." "I'm sorry." "It's okay. I mean it's not. But I'm okay. Dad made sure." Lena picked at the blanket. "He's really good at taking care of people. Even when he's sad. He was really sad after Mom died." Ten years. Alex's wife died ten years ago. "You live in this huge place," Lucia said. "Just the two of you?" "Yep. Well, and the staff. Maria cooks. Roberto does the gardens." Lena shrugged. "It's a lot of space. Gets lonely sometimes. But Dad works a lot. Building companies. I don't really get it. Just know he's really rich." Extremely wealthy. Looking around, it was obvious. "Must be nice," Lucia said. "Sometimes." Lena's smile came back. "Other times it's weird. People at school treat me different. They want to be my friend because of Dad's money. Not because they like me." "That sounds hard." "It is. But you learn who's real and who's fake pretty fast." Lena stood. "Anyway! Dad said to tell you breakfast is ready when you want." Lucia looked at the clock. Almost ten. "Come down when you're ready!" Lena headed for the door. Turned back. "I'm really glad you're here. The house feels less empty." She left. Lucia got out of bed. Found the bathroom again. Splashed water on her face. Looked in the mirror. Her eyes were puffy. Red. Her face was pale. She looked like a ghost. Stop it. She went downstairs. Followed the sound of voices. The kitchen was huge. White cabinets. Marble counters. An island in the middle. Alex stood at the stove. Lena sat on a stool. They were laughing about something. They looked happy. She stood in the doorway. Suddenly feeling like an intruder. Alex saw her. "Hey. You're up. Hungry?" "I don't know," she said honestly. "Well, I made eggs. And toast. And bacon. And pancakes because Lena insisted." "I always insist," Lena said. "Pancakes are life." Lucia sat on a stool. Alex put a plate in front of her. But she picked up a fork. Took a bite. It tasted like nothing. But she chewed. Swallowed. "So," Alex said. Leaning against the counter. "You can stay here. Week or so. Figure out what you want to do next." Lucia's hands tightened around the fork. "I can't pay you." "I'm not asking you to." Her throat closed up. "I don't have anything." "Then stay until you do." Alex's voice was gentle. "No pressure." Lena grabbed her arm. "Please stay! I've always wanted another girl in this house." Something in Lucia's chest cracked. This girl. This bright girl who didn't know her. Who had no reason to want her here. But she did. "Okay," Lucia whispered. "Great!" Lena squeezed her arm. "This is going to be so fun!" Fun. When was the last time Lucia had fun? She couldn't remember. Alex smiled at her. Small. Understanding. For the first time since Marco walked in with Margaret, something other than pain settled in her chest. Not hope. Not quite. But possibility. Maybe. Chapter 4 Alex stood in his office. Door closed. Locked. He stared at the monitor on his desk. Security footage from the guest room hallway. Lucia was still asleep. He rubbed his face. Hadn't slept. Just watched. Made sure she didn't leave. Didn't hurt herself. His phone buzzed. Thomas. His private investigator. "Confirmed. Marco Lewis filed divorce papers this morning. Moving fast." Alex's jaw clenched. Of course. Lock everything down before Lucia could think straight. He typed back. "Keep monitoring. I want to know everything." He put the phone down. Looked at the monitor again. Lucia. Thirty-three years he'd loved her. Thirty-three years of watching from the shadows. He was seven when he met her. She was seven too. First day of second grade. New kid. Poor kid. His clothes were too big. Hand-me-downs from his older cousin. The other kids laughed. Called him trash. Said he smelled. Then Lucia stood up. Tiny thing with wild hair and a voice that didn't match her size. "Shut up. All of you. He's new and you're being mean." She sat next to him that day. Every day after that. Her family had money. Big house. Nice cars. But she never cared that he had nothing. They were inseparable. Did everything together. Then high school happened. Sixteen years old. She was laughing at something stupid he said. He looked at her and. Oh. Oh no. He fell in love with her that day. Never told her. How could he? She was Lucia Hart. Beautiful. Smart. Rich family. He was Alex Kane. Poor kid with holes in his shoes and a drunk father. So he stayed quiet. Stayed her best friend. Died a little every time she talked about other boys. Then college. Marco showed up. Marco with his car and his clothes and his confidence. Marco who could give her everything Alex couldn't. She fell for him. Fast. Talked about him constantly. Alex listened. Smiled. Pretended his heart wasn't breaking. When she got engaged, he couldn't anymore. Couldn't watch her marry someone else. So he left. Changed his number. Moved cities. Built his company from nothing. Turned heartbreak into empire. And he watched her. Always. Hired Thomas five years after her wedding. Just to check. Make sure she was okay. Reports came. Photos. Updates. Lucia looked content. Three kids. Nice house. He told himself that was enough. She was happy. That mattered. But he kept the reports coming. Couldn't stop. Couldn't let go. Then last week Thomas called. "You need to see this." Photos of Marco. With Margaret. Coming out of hotels. Kissing in parking lots. "How long?" Alex asked. "Two years. Maybe more." His blood boiled. "Find out everything. I want dates. Times. Proof." Thomas delivered. Marco was planning to leave Lucia. Their anniversary party. Public humiliation. Alex tried to stop it. Drove to the venue. But he was too late. People were leaving. Talking. Gossiping. "Did you see her face?" "So embarrassing." He grabbed someone. "Where did Lucia go?" "She ran out. In the rain." He searched. Drove through streets. Panicking. Then he saw her. On the bridge. Climbing the railing. His heart stopped. He ran. Grabbed her wrist just as she fell. And now she was here. In his house. A second chance. He didn't deserve it. But he had her here. That's what mattered. A knock on his office door. "Dad?" Lena. He unlocked the door. She walked in. Looked at him. "You didn't sleep," she said. "I'm fine." "You always say that." She sat across from his desk. "We need to talk about Lucia." "What about her?" "I saw your face this morning. When you looked at her. I've never seen you look at anyone like that. Not even Mom." Alex's chest tightened. "Lena." "Tell me the truth. Who is she?" He sat down. "We were friends. I told you that." "Friends don't look at each other the way you looked at her." Smart kid. Too smart. "She was my best friend. Growing up." "And?" "And I fell in love with her. In high school." Lena leaned forward. "Did you tell her?" "No." "Why not?" "Because I was poor. She was rich. I had nothing." "That's stupid." "Maybe. But that's how it felt." Alex looked at his hands. "Then she met Marco in college. He had everything I didn't." "So you left." "Yeah." "And now she's here." "Yeah." "Do you still love her?" The question hung there. Heavy. "Yeah," Alex whispered. "I never stopped." Lena was quiet. Then. "How did you find her last night? On that bridge?" Alex went cold. "What?" "You just happened to be driving by? That's a pretty big coincidence, Dad." He couldn't lie to her. "I've been keeping track of her. For years. Through an investigator." Lena's eyes widened. "You've been stalking her?" "Not stalking. Making sure she was okay." "Dad. That's literally stalking." "I know. I know it sounds bad. But I needed to know she was safe." "And when you found out about Marco cheating?" "I tried to stop it. Tried to get there before he humiliated her. But I was too late." "So you went looking for her." "Thomas said she left the party. I drove around. Then I saw her on the bridge." Lena stood. Walked to the window. "This is a lot, Dad." "I know." "Does she know? About the investigator? About you watching her?" "No. And she can't know. Not now." "You have to tell her eventually." "I know." "If she finds out on her own, she'll hate you." "I know that too." Alex stood. Walked over to his daughter. "But right now, she needs stability. Not more chaos. Not more betrayal." "You think she'll see it as betrayal?" "Probably." "Do you think she ever loved you? Back then?" The question hurt. He'd asked himself that a thousand times. "I don't know. She never said anything. Never gave any sign." "Or maybe she did love you and you were both too scared to say it." Worse thought. That they could have had something. That he'd wasted years because he was a coward. "Doesn't matter now," Alex said. "She's healing. That's important." "When are you going to tell her?" Lena asked. "About your feelings? About everything?" "Not now." "When?" "I don't know. When she's stronger." "What if she's never ready?" "Then I'll keep it to myself. Like I have for thirty-three years." Lena turned to face him. "That's sad, Dad." "Maybe. But her happiness matters more." "Mom knew, didn't she? About Lucia?" Alex nodded. "Yeah. Sandra knew." "Did she mind?" "She said she didn't. Said she understood. That people carry ghosts. That loving someone unavailable doesn't mean you can't love someone else." "Do you think she was happy? With you?" "I hope so. I tried to make her happy. I really did love her, Lena. Your mom was incredible. Patient. Kind." "But?" "But she wasn't Lucia." The words came out broken. "And that's not fair. To her memory. To you. But it's the truth." Lena walked over. Hugged him. "I'm not mad, Dad. I just want you to be happy. Really happy." "I am happy. I have you." "You know what I mean." He did. "Give it time," he said. "Let Lucia heal. Then maybe." "Promise me you'll tell her. Eventually. About everything." "Lena." "Promise me, Dad. She deserves the truth." He closed his eyes. "I promise. When the time is right." "Good." She pulled back. "Now go shower. You smell like stress." He laughed. First real laugh in days. "I'm serious. Go. I'll make sure Lucia has everything she needs." "Don't tell her anything." "I won't. But you will. Soon." She left. Alex walked back to his desk. Looked at the monitor. Lucia was awake. Sitting on the edge of the bed. Looking lost. His heart ached. Thirty-three years he'd loved her. Thirty-three years of silence. Maybe Lena was right. Maybe he needed to tell her. But not now. Not when she was broken. He'd wait. Be patient. Be there. And hope. Hope that eventually she might see him as more than just her childhood friend who saved her life. Hope that eventually she might love him back. But even if she didn't. He'd still be here. Still protect her. Because that's what you did when you loved someone. You stayed. Even when it hurt. Even when it was hopeless. You stayed. Chapter 5 Lucia sat on the bed. Her phone in her hand. Staring at the screen. She shouldn't do this. She knew she shouldn't. But her fingers moved anyway. Opening Instagram. Typing in Ria's username. The profile loaded. Public. Of course. Photos filled the screen. Recent ones. From yesterday. Her breath caught. There. A video. Posted three hours ago. She clicked it. Laughter came first. Happy laughter. Then the image loaded. Marco. Margaret. And all three kids. Sitting around a table. Pizza boxes open. Everyone smiling. "Say hi to everyone!" Ria's voice. She was recording. "Hi!" Monica waved at the camera. Big smile. Lucas gave a thumbs up. Grinning. Margaret leaned into Marco. "We're having the best family night!" Family night. Lucia's hands shook. "Margaret makes the best homemade cookies," Monica said. "Way better than Mom's store bought ones." The words stabbed. "And she actually listens when we talk," Ria added. "Like really listens. Not just pretending while looking at her phone." Lucia never looked at her phone during conversations. Never. "Plus she's cool," Lucas said. "She gets us. You know?" Margaret laughed. Kissed Marco's cheek. "These kids are amazing. I'm so lucky." The video ended. Lucia stared at the black screen. Her reflection stared back. Pale. Hollow. She scrolled down. More photos. Margaret braiding Monica's hair. Margaret and Ria shopping. Matching bags. Lucas teaching Margaret how to play video games. All posted today. Captions about how wonderful Margaret was. Not one mention of Lucia. Her chest hurt. Like something inside was tearing. She kept scrolling. Couldn't stop. Another video. Margaret's account. "My new family!" Margaret's voice. Cheerful. Sweet. The camera panned. Marco cooking. The kids setting the table. "I've always wanted kids," Margaret said. "And now I have three perfect ones. Dreams really do come true!" Lucia's phone slipped from her fingers. Fell onto the bed. She couldn't breathe. They replaced her. Two days. Two days and they'd already replaced her. A sound came from her throat. Half sob. Half scream. She grabbed a pillow. Pressed it to her face. Maybe they were right. Maybe she was a bad mother. Maybe Margaret was better. No. No. But look at them. Look how happy they were. The tears came. Loud. Ugly. A knock on the door. Soft. She didn't answer. The door opened anyway. "Lucia?" Alex. She couldn't look at him. "Hey." His voice got closer. "What happened?" She shook her head. The bed dipped. He sat beside her. "Talk to me," he said. She lowered the pillow. Her face was wet. "I looked at their social media," she whispered. "The kids." Alex's jaw tightened. "What did you see?" "They're with Marco. And her. Margaret. They posted videos. They look. They look so." She couldn't say it. Alex picked up her phone. Looked at the screen. His face went hard. "This is cruel," he said. "Maybe it's true." The words came out broken. "Maybe I was a terrible mother. Maybe they're better off." "Stop." "Look at them, Alex. They don't miss me at all." "They're kids being manipulated." "They chose her." "They chose what's easier. That doesn't make you bad." Lucia pulled her knees to her chest. "I should call them. Maybe if I just. If I explain." "Explain what? They don't want to hear it." The bluntness hurt. But it was true. She grabbed her phone. Opened it. Stared at Monica's number. What would she even say? Please love me again? Please remember I'm your mother? Her finger hovered over the call button. "Don't," Alex said quietly. She put the phone down. Face down. Alex was quiet. Then he stood. Walked to the window. "I have an idea," he said. "But you'll probably think I'm insane." She looked up. "What?" He turned to face her. Hesitated. Like he was debating something. "Disappear," he finally said. "What?" "Leave. Go somewhere far. Reinvent yourself. Come back when you're ready." "I can't just leave." "Why not? What's keeping you here?" The question hung there. What was keeping her? Nothing. Nobody wanted her here. "Where would I even go?" she asked. Alex took a breath. "Germany. I have a villa there. Countryside. Quiet. You could stay as long as you need." Germany. Another country. "And do what?" "Learn. Transform." He walked back over. Sat on the bed again. "I can teach you about business. Finance. How money works. You could come back different. Stronger." "Why would I need to know about business?" Alex hesitated again. Like he was afraid to tell her. "Marco is hiding assets offshore," he finally said. Lucia stared at him. "What?" "I had Thomas dig deeper. Marco has accounts in the Cayman Islands. Properties under shell companies. He's been planning this." Her stomach turned. "How long?" "At least five years." Five years. "The affair. The quick wedding. It's all calculated." Alex's voice was steady. "He wants to marry Margaret fast. Lock everything down before you can do anything." "He's going to marry her?" "Already applied for the license. Wedding next month." Next month. Their divorce wasn't even final. "How do you know all this?" she asked. "Thomas is good at his job." "You've been investigating Marco?" "Yes." She should be angry. Should feel violated. But she just felt. Tired. "What else?" "Marco's company. I own shares. Thirty percent." Lucia looked at him. "Thirty?" "I'm the second largest shareholder. Marco doesn't know. The shares are under a holding company." "Why are you telling me this?" Alex looked down at his hands. "Because I can help you. If you want. I can give you leverage. Information. Everything you need to fight back." Fight back. She'd never fought back against anything. "I don't know how to fight," she said. "I'll teach you." "In Germany." "Yes." She stood up. Walked to the window. Looked out at the gardens. Six months in another country. Learning things she didn't understand. Coming back. For what? "What if I come back and nothing changes?" she asked. "What if I'm still nobody? What if they still don't want me?" "Then at least you'll be somebody who chose to fight." "But what if I don't want to fight? What if I just want my kids back?" The words cracked on the way out. Alex stood. Walked over. Stood beside her. "You can't make people love you," he said quietly. "Not even your kids. But you can make them respect you. You can make them regret what they did." "Is that enough?" "I don't know. But it's better than this." She looked at him. Really looked. He looked scared. Like he was afraid she'd say no. Like this mattered to him more than he was saying. "Why do you care so much?" she asked. He opened his mouth. Closed it. Looked away. "Because you deserve better," he finally said. "You always did." The air between them felt charged. "If I do this," she said slowly. "If I go. What happens to me?" "What do you mean?" "I'll be alone. In a foreign country. Learning things I don't understand. What if I can't do it? What if I fail?" "You won't." "You don't know that." "No. But I believe it." She wanted to believe it too. But believing meant hoping. And hoping meant risking more pain. "I'm scared," she whispered. "I know." "What if they're right about me? What if I really am that terrible?" "You're not." "How do you know?" "Because I've known you for thirty-three years. And you've never been terrible. Not once." The words hit something in her chest. She looked back out the window. The sun was setting. Orange and pink. Tomorrow she could leave. Start over. Become someone new. Or she could stay. Keep crying. Keep checking their social media. Keep hurting. She thought about Monica's laugh in that video. Lucas's smile. Ria's happiness. They were fine without her. Better even. Something inside her shifted. Hardened. "Okay," she said. "Okay?" "Yeah. Germany. All of it." Alex's face changed. Relief. "You won't regret this." "I already regret everything else." He almost smiled. She looked down at her phone. Still on the bed. Still showing her kids with someone else. "I want them to see," she said. Voice quiet. "I want them to see me different. Strong. Someone they can't ignore." "They will." "And Marco. I want him to know he made a mistake." "He will." She didn't know if she believed him. But she wanted to. "When do we leave?" she asked. "Two days. I need to arrange some things first." Two days. "What about Lena?" "She's excited. Already packing." Of course she was. Lucia picked up her phone. Looked at it one last time. Then she deleted Instagram. Done watching. Done hurting. "Teach me everything," she said. Looking at Alex. "I want to know how to win." "I will." Outside, the sun disappeared. Darkness came. But for the first time in days, Lucia didn't feel afraid of it. She felt ready for it. Chapter 6 Sleep refused to come. Lucia paced her bedroom, bare feet silent on thick carpet. Each passing minute brought images she couldn't escape. Marco. Margaret. The kids. She paused at the window, pressing her palm against the cool glass. The gardens stretched out below, dark and quiet. Germany. A new identity. The chance to rebuild. Images from the past days swirled in her mind. Marco's cold face at the anniversary party. Margaret's victorious smile. The kids choosing her. Choosing to discard their own mother. She moved to the dresser where she had left her phone. Picked it up. Put it down. Picked it up again. One call. That's all it would take. One call to Monica. To beg. To plead. Please remember I'm your mother. But what would that accomplish? They'd made their choice. Clearly. Publicly. Cruelly. Lucia set the phone down, turning instead to face the mirror. The woman staring back looked hollow. Defeated. Used up. Is this who she was now? Who she'd always been? A woman so easily replaced? No. Not anymore. The truth hit her with sudden clarity. Marco hadn't just taken her marriage. He'd stolen her children. Poisoned them against her. Made them participants in her destruction. They needed to learn. All of them. That people couldn't be discarded without consequences. Morning found Lucia seated in the kitchen. She had dressed in the borrowed clothes, simple t-shirt and jeans. Her hair hung loose around her face. She heard footsteps and looked up to see Alex approaching. He carried two mugs, steam rising. "Couldn't sleep?" he asked, offering her one of the mugs. "No." She accepted the coffee, grateful for its warmth. Alex sat across from her at the island. "Did you think about what we discussed?" Lucia took a deep breath. "I want to leave today." Alex looked at her. "Today?" "Yes. I can't stay here anymore. Every second in this city, I feel like I'm drowning." "We can leave today," Alex said. "I'll make the arrangements." Relief washed through her. "Thank you." "What about your belongings? From the house?" The thought of going back there made her stomach turn. "I don't want anything from that place." "You'll need clothes." "Then I'll get new ones. In Germany. I want a completely fresh start." Alex studied her face. "You're sure?" "I've never been more sure of anything." Lucia's voice was steady. "For seventeen years, I've been living half a life. Being what Marco wanted. What the kids needed. What everyone expected. I forgot how to be just Lucia." "And now?" "Now I want to remember." She set her mug down. "I want to discover who I am without them. And then I want them to see that woman when it's too late." Alex nodded slowly. "It won't be easy." "I don't want easy." Lucia stood, restless energy filling her. "I want to grow. I want to transform. I want..." "Justice," Alex supplied quietly. She met his gaze. "Yes. Is that wrong?" "No." He rose to stand before her. "It's human. They hurt you deliberately. Wanting them to feel consequences doesn't make you a bad person." "Monica laughed," Lucia whispered. "My baby. She laughed when I signed those papers." Alex's hands twitched at his sides. "Children can be cruel." "This wasn't childish thoughtlessness. This was calculated." Her voice hardened. "They participated in destroying me. And they need to learn I won't be destroyed so easily." A smile curved Alex's lips. "There she is. The Lucia I remember. The fighter." "Was I? A fighter?" Lucia searched his face. "Sometimes I can't remember who I was before Marco." "You were magnificent," Alex said simply. "Fierce. The girl who defended me against bullies. Who stood up for what was right." His words sparked something inside her. A memory of the girl she had been. The one with dreams. The one who didn't back down. "I want to be her again," Lucia said. "Not exactly the same. But I want to find that strength. That sense of self." Alex nodded. "Then that's what we'll do. We can leave this afternoon. The villa is ready." "What about my legal situation? The divorce?" "My attorneys can handle everything. Marco won't be able to rush through without proper proceedings." "And my things from the house?" "I could send someone to retrieve them. Marco wouldn't know." The offer tempted her. Her books. Her photos. Small treasures. But something stopped her. "No," she said finally. "Let them go. They're part of the old Lucia. She doesn't exist anymore." Alex studied her. "Some of those things have sentimental value." Lucia thought of the photo albums. The children's artwork. Family souvenirs. Each one a knife now. "The memories aren't in the objects. They're here." She touched her chest. "I'm taking them with me. Both the good and the bad." Alex nodded, respect in his gaze. "I'll tell Lena our plans." "Lena is coming?" "She insisted. She's quite taken with you." The words touched Lucia deeply. This girl who barely knew her cared more than her own children. Footsteps on the stairs. Lena appeared, face brightening when she spotted them. "You're both up early!" Alex turned to his daughter. "Lucia has decided to come with us. We're leaving this afternoon." Lena's eyes widened. "Really? That's amazing!" She rushed forward to hug Lucia. "You won't regret it." Lucia returned the embrace, surprised by how natural it felt. "I'm glad you're coming." "I wouldn't miss it." Lena stepped back. "What about Marco and the kids?" The direct question might have seemed insensitive from anyone else. "I don't know exactly," Lucia admitted. "I know I want consequences. I know I want them to realize what they threw away. But the exact form..." She shook her head. "I need time." Lena nodded. "The best plans aren't rushed. They're crafted carefully." Alex shot his daughter a look. "Lena." "What? I'm just being honest." Lena shrugged. "Lucia deserves justice." "It's alright," Lucia assured Alex. "She's right. I don't want blind revenge. I want them to face the natural consequences of their choices. To realize exactly what they lost." The conversation shifted to practicalities. What Lucia would need. How long they might stay. Managing the divorce remotely. Throughout the discussion, Lucia felt something shifting inside her. Each decision removed another weight from her shoulders. She was choosing her path now. Not following Marco's lead or the kids' needs. For the first time in years, Lucia was putting herself first. After breakfast, she returned to her room. Her few belongings fit into the small bag Alex had given her. The physical reminder of how little she had left was sobering. But also freeing. She was traveling light into her new life. Unburdened. As she zipped the bag, Lucia caught sight of her reflection. The woman gazing back seemed different already. Posture straighter. Eyes clearer. Jaw set with determination. Not yet the woman she would become. But no longer the woman Marco had discarded. This afternoon, she would board a plane to Germany. Would begin remaking herself far from their reach. Would learn about business, about power, about strength. And one day, when she was ready, when she had transformed, she would return. Would face Marco and the children not as the desperate woman they cast aside, but as someone they barely recognized. Someone they underestimated. Someone who survived and emerged stronger. They thought they knew Lucia Hart. Soon, they would meet Lucia Smith. And nothing would ever be the same. -------------- There are limited chapters to put here, click “learn more” to open App to continue reading (It will automatically jump to the book)

My husband divorced me for his mistress, and my children chose her over me. On the brink of suic/de, I'm saved by my childhood friend Alex, now a billionaire. He asks, "Do you want revenge?" The ballroom sparkled with golden lights. Lucia stood near the entrance in her blue dress, the one she bought just for tonight. She kept touching her necklace. The silver one. Marco gave it to her on their first date. People smiled. Friends. Family. Neighbors. They said congratulations. They said everything looked beautiful. She planned it all. Every flower. Every candle. Every tiny detail. "Mrs. Hart, you look so happy," someone said. She was happy. She thought she was. The door opened. Marco walked in with a woman. Young. Maybe twenty-five. Blonde hair. Red dress tight against her body. She held Marco's arm like she owned him. Lucia's smile died. The room got smaller. Hotter. She couldn't breathe right. Marco looked at her. His eyes were cold. Empty. "Everyone, listen up." His voice cut through everything. The music. The laughter. The joy. The room went silent. Everyone turned. Stared at him. At the woman. At Lucia. "This is Margaret," Marco said. No feeling in his voice. Nothing. "I'm leaving Lucia for her." The words punched into Lucia's chest. She couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. What? "We've been together for two years." Marco's voice stayed calm. Like this was normal. "Margaret is moving into the house. Lucia's things are packed. They're in the garage." Two years. She made his breakfast. Washed his shirts. Slept beside him. Kissed him goodnight. Two years of lies. "Marco." Her voice cracked. "This is our anniversary. Our party. The children..." "The children know," Margaret said. Sweet voice. Too sweet. "They've known for months. They support us." No. Where were they? Ria? Lucas? Monica? There. Corner of the room. All three standing together. Ria stared at her. Sixteen with Marco's eyes. She crossed her arms. "Mom, just sign the papers. You're making this harder than it needs to be." The words cut. Deep. "Ria, baby, I don't..." "Dad's been unhappy for years," Lucas said. Fifteen. Her boy who used to be scared of thunder. "We all knew. Everyone knew except you." Monica giggled. Thirteen. The baby Lucia still tucked in at night sometimes. "Margaret takes us shopping. She actually listens to us. You never do." Lucia's legs shook. The floor tilted. Was she falling? Standing? She didn't know anymore. "I gave you everything." She looked at Marco. The man she loved. The man she believed in. "Everything I had." "You gave too much," Marco said. He pulled papers from his jacket. Divorce papers. "You smothered me. Margaret gives me freedom. She makes me feel like a man again." Margaret smiled. Victory written all over her face. "Sign them." Marco held out a pen. "Here?" Tears filled Lucia's eyes. "Now? In front of everyone?" "You're embarrassing yourself," Ria said. "Just do it already." People watched. Some turned away. Others whispered. Some pulled out phones. Taking pictures. Recording. Her pain as entertainment. Lucia's hand shook. She took the pen. The paper blurred. She couldn't read it. Didn't matter. She signed anyway. Her name looked strange. Broken. Not hers. Marco grabbed the papers. Folded them. Put them away. No thank you. No sorry. Nothing. "Leave now," Margaret said. "Your boxes are labeled. Don't take anything that isn't yours." "That house..." Lucia's voice was barely there. "I made it a home." "It's in my name," Marco said. "Always was. You have no claim." Ria stepped closer. "Mom, seriously. Everyone's uncomfortable. Just leave." "Yeah," Lucas said. "This is awkward." Monica laughed again. High. Cruel. Lucia looked at them. Her babies. She carried them. Fed them. Loved them. They looked at her like trash. "I loved you," she whispered. To all of them. "So much." "Not enough," Marco said. He pulled Margaret close. Kissed her. Right there. In front of Lucia. In front of everyone. Some people gasped. Others cheered. Lucia's feet moved. One step. Another. Through the crowd. Out the door. Rain. Heavy and cold. It soaked her dress in seconds. The special dress. Ruined now. She walked. Didn't know where. Her feet hurt in the heels but she kept going. Past houses with warm lights. Families inside. Real families. The tears came. Hot against her cold face. Her whole body shook. Remember when Ria took her first steps? Right into Lucia's arms. Lucia cried then too. Happy tears. Remember when Lucas learned to ride a bike? He fell. Scraped his knee. Lucia held him. Kissed it better. Remember when Monica drew that picture in kindergarten? Four stick figures holding hands. "That's us, Mommy. Our family." Gone. All of it. She fell. Her knees hit wet concrete. Hands in dirty water. She didn't get up. Couldn't. Thunder. Lightning. The sky was angry. Like her insides. Her phone buzzed. She pulled it out. Message from Marco. "Don't contact the children. Don't contact me. Move on." Move on. Like it was easy. Like she could just forget. Another message. Ria. "Mom, you're so dramatic. We're all happier without you. Accept it." The phone slipped from her hand. Fell into water. Screen went black. She stayed there. On her knees. Water soaking through her dress to her skin. Cold. So cold. Cars passed. No one stopped. She was nothing. Nobody wanted her. Not her husband. Not her children. Nobody. The necklace. She grabbed it. The silver one Marco gave her. Twenty years ago. When he said he loved her. When he promised forever. Lies. She ripped it off. The chain broke. She threw it into the street. Her makeup ran down her face in black streaks. Her hair stuck to her cheeks. Her dress clung heavy to her body. She tried to stand. Her legs wouldn't work right. They shook. Weak. Finally up. Barely. She looked back at the ballroom. The lights still glowed. Music still played. They were still celebrating. Without her. Celebrating her ending. A sound came from her throat. Half laugh. Half sob. Wrong. Broken. She turned away. Started walking again. Water in her shoes. Each step hurt. Where was she going? Didn't matter. She had nowhere. No home. Marco took it. No family. They chose Margaret. No money. Everything was in Marco's name. Nothing. She had nothing. The street blurred. More tears. Or maybe just the water running into her eyes. Remember their wedding day? Marco said she was beautiful. He said he'd never leave. He promised. Liar. Remember Ria's birth? Sixteen hours of labor. Worth it. Every second. To hold her baby. That baby just told her to leave. Remember Lucas's first word? Mama. He said mama. He reached for her. That boy said everyone knew except her. Like she was stupid. Remember Monica's first day of school? She cried. Didn't want Lucia to go. Held onto her leg. That girl laughed at her. In front of everyone. How? How did they all stop loving her? When did it happen? Was she blind? Stupid? Was she really that bad? Her chest hurt. Actual physical pain. Like something inside was tearing apart. She stopped walking. Middle of the sidewalk. Water pooled around her feet. A woman passed by. Looked at her. Looked away quick. Kept walking. Another person. A man. He crossed the street to avoid her. She was that woman now. The one people avoided. The one they pitied. The one they whispered about. Did you hear? Her husband left her at their anniversary party. For a younger woman. Even her kids don't want her. Poor thing. She didn't want pity. She wanted her life back. Her family. Her home. Her heart. But it was gone. All of it. She started walking again. Had to keep moving. If she stopped she might never start again. The water kept falling. Getting harder. Heavier. Her whole body was numb now. From cold. From pain. From everything. Somewhere a dog barked. A car horn honked. Normal sounds. Normal night. For everyone else. For her, everything ended. She thought about going back. Begging. Maybe if she said sorry. Maybe if she promised to change. Be better. Be whatever Marco wanted. No. She saw his face. Cold. Done with her. She saw Margaret. Smiling. Winning. She saw her children. Looking at her like she was nothing. They didn't want her back. They wanted her gone. She was gone now. Walking in the dark. In the rain. Alone. Her shoes rubbed blisters into her feet. She took them off. Held them in one hand. Kept walking barefoot. The concrete was rough. Cold. Hurt her feet. Good. The pain was good. It meant she was still real. Still here. Still something. Even if that something was broken. She passed a store window. Saw her reflection. Didn't recognize herself. Hair wild. Face streaked. Dress hanging off her body. She looked destroyed. She was destroyed. Somewhere behind her the party continued. Marco and Margaret probably dancing now. Her children probably eating cake. Laughing. Happy. Without her. Like she never mattered at all. The thought made her stomach turn. She bent over. Nothing came up. Just dry heaving. Her body trying to reject reality. She straightened up. Kept walking. Had to keep walking. Didn't know where. Didn't know why. Just knew she couldn't stop. Because if she stopped, if she stood still, she might break into pieces so small no one could ever put her back together. So she walked. Alone. Barefoot. In the rain that wouldn't stop falling. Chapter 2 Lucia didn't plan to walk to the bridge. Her feet just took her there. The river below was black. Angry. Water rushing fast and loud. She gripped the railing. Metal cold. Wet. Slippery. How did she get here? Just walking. Walking. Then the bridge. The water below looked like it could swallow everything. All the hurt. All the pain. Her phone buzzed. Marco. "Where are you? People are asking questions. You're embarrassing me." She stared at the screen. Her fingers shook. Embarrassing him. Another buzz. "Answer me, Lucia. Don't make this worse than it already is." She didn't respond. Her phone kept buzzing. Message after message. "If you're trying to get attention, it won't work. I'm done with your drama. Answer me now." "You're being childish." "Grow up, Lucia." "Think about the children. You're embarrassing them too." The children. But Marco was worried about embarrassing them? She looked at the railing. At the gap between the bars. No job. She stopped working when Ria was born. Marco said they didn't need her income. Said she should focus on the family. So she did. No career. No money of her own. Nothing. Where was she supposed to go? The house was Margaret's. Everything in Marco's name. Her friends? Couple friends. Marco's work friends and their wives. They'd pick his side. Her family? Her parents died five years ago. Car accident. She had no siblings. No one. The river kept rushing below. Her phone buzzed again. "Fine. Don't answer. But you're signing more papers tomorrow. My lawyer will contact you. Don't make this difficult." She turned the phone off. Shoved it in her pocket. Before Marco, there was someone else. Not a boyfriend. A friend. Alexander. Alex. Her best friend since she was seven. They grew up on the same street. Rode bikes together. Did homework together. Told each other everything. When she got engaged to Marco, Alex stopped talking to her. Just like that. One day they were best friends. The next day he was gone. She tried calling. Texting. He never answered. That was eighteen years ago. She hadn't seen him since. Another person who left her. Who would want her now? No job. No skills. No money. Three kids who hated her. No one. She climbed onto the first bar of the railing. Her bare feet slipped. She gripped tighter. The water looked closer. Darker. Her heart pounded against her ribs. Ria with tiny fingers wrapped around her thumb. Lucia used to sing lullabies. Made up songs. That baby told her to leave tonight. Lucas scared of shadows. Loud noises. Dogs. Lucia held him through it all. That boy said everyone knew Marco was unhappy. Except stupid Lucia. Monica. Pink and screaming and perfect when she was born. That girl laughed when Lucia signed the divorce papers. How did she lose them? The rain fell harder. Her dress stuck to her skin. Heavy. She climbed higher. Second bar. Her feet barely fit. She wobbled. The water roared below. What would happen if she jumped? Marco would be relieved. No messy divorce. He'd comfort Margaret. Play the grieving husband. Poor Marco. So tragic. The kids would be fine. They had Margaret. They didn't need Lucia. Nobody did. What was the point? Get a job at a store? Rent a tiny apartment? Start over? Her bones hurt. Her heart hurt. Everything hurt. Maybe it was easier to just stop. She looked down at the water. It didn't look scary anymore. It looked peaceful. Final. She let go with one hand. Held on with just the other. The wind pushed against her. She closed her eyes. Took a breath. Sorry, Mom. Sorry, Dad. She let go with the other hand. For a second she just stood there. Balanced. Then her foot slipped. Wet metal. No grip. She was falling. No. Wait. Her arms flailed. Reaching for anything. Just air. The water rushed up. Wrong wrong wrong. She wanted to scream but her throat closed. Falling. Fast. A sound behind her. Footsteps? Running? She didn't have time to look. The wind howled in her ears. Or was that her own breath? Her own terror? Faster. The water below black and waiting. Her dress whipped around her legs. Her hair flew into her face. This was it. Then something grabbed her arm. Hard. A hand. Strong fingers wrapped around her wrist. Squeezed. Held tight. The falling stopped. She hung there. One arm stretched up. The other dangling. Body swinging over the water. The hand pulled. She rose a little. But her wrist was slippery. Wet from the rain. The grip started to slide. No no no. She swung her other arm up. Desperate. Clawing at air. The hand adjusted. Grabbed tighter. Different angle now. Both hands gripping her arm. Pulling. Her shoulder burned. Felt like it might rip out of the socket. But she was rising. Inch by inch. Thunder cracked overhead. Lightning lit up the sky for a second. In that flash she saw the water below. Close. So close. Her feet kicked. Found nothing. Just empty space. The hand kept pulling. Strong. Steady. Not letting go. She scrambled with her feet. Finally touched the railing. Cold metal agai nst her toes. She pushed. The hand pulled. Then she was over. Back on the bridge. She collapsed. Hands and knees on wet concrete. Gasping. Shaking. The hand stayed on her shoulder. Steady. Warm despite everything. Chapter 3 Lucia looked up. Rain poured down his face. Dark hair plastered to his forehead. But those eyes. Brown. Familiar. "Alex?" Her voice came out hoarse. "It's me." He knelt beside her on the wet concrete. "You're okay now." Alexander Kane. Her best friend. The one who vanished eighteen years ago. Here. Saving her. She couldn't process it. Her brain felt foggy. "Can you stand?" he asked. She didn't know. Could she? He helped her up. Her legs shook. He wrapped an arm around her waist. "My car is just over there." He pointed. "Let me take you somewhere dry." She nodded. Couldn't speak. He guided her across the bridge. Each step felt wrong. Like she shouldn't be walking. Shouldn't be breathing. His car was black. Expensive looking. He opened the passenger door. Helped her inside. The seat was leather. Soft. She sank into it. He got in the driver's side. Started the engine. Heat blasted from the vents. "Where do you live?" he asked. "I'll take you home." Home. The word stabbed. "I can't." The words stuck. "Marco. He. The house." She couldn't finish. Alex looked at her. At her ruined dress. Her bare feet. Her destroyed face. "Okay," he said quietly. "You'll come to my place then." She wanted to say no. But where would she go? So she said nothing. He drove. She stared out the window. Buildings passed. Lights blurred. They drove for twenty minutes. Then he turned onto a long driveway. Trees lined both sides. Tall. The driveway went on forever. Then she saw it. A mansion. Actual mansion with columns and big windows and gardens. "You live here?" The words came out small. "Yeah." He parked in front of wide stone steps. "Come on." The front door was huge. Wood with carvings. He pushed it open. Inside was. She didn't have words. Marble floors. A staircase that curved up. Paintings. A chandelier hanging from the ceiling. "This way." Alex led her through hallways. Past rooms she couldn't look at properly. Her mind was too tired. He stopped at a door. Opened it. "Guest room. The bathroom is through there." He pointed. "Take a hot shower. I'll find you something to wear." She walked in. The room was bigger than the bedroom she used to have. Used to. Past tense. The bed had white sheets. Fluffy pillows. "Lucia." Alex's voice made her turn. "You're safe here. Okay?" He left. Closed the door. She stood there. Dripping water on expensive carpet. The bathroom. Right. She walked through the door. Marble everywhere. A tub big enough to swim in. A shower with glass walls. She turned on the water. Steam filled the space. She peeled off her dress. It fell in a wet heap. She stepped into the shower. The water burned her skin. She didn't care. She stood under the spray until her fingers pruned. When she got out, there were towels. Big. Soft. White. And clothes on the counter. A t-shirt. Sweatpants. Too big for her. Must be Alex's. She put them on. Rolled up the pants. Back in the bedroom, she sat on the edge of the bed. Stared at her hands. A knock on the door. "Come in," she said. Alex walked in with a tray. A mug. Steam rising from it. "Tea," he said. "Chamomile. My daughter swears by it." Daughter. Alex had a daughter. Eighteen years. People had whole lives in that time. "Thank you." She took the mug. Wrapped her hands around it. He sat in a chair across from the bed. "Do you want to talk about it?" "Marco left me." The words tumbled out. "Tonight. At our anniversary party. In front of everyone. He's been with someone else for two years. The kids knew. They wanted him to leave me." Saying it made it real. Made it hurt more. "I'm sorry," Alex said. "Why were you on that bridge?" she asked. He was quiet for a moment. "I was driving home. Saw someone on the railing. I stopped." "You didn't know it was me?" "Not until I grabbed you." He leaned forward. "Lucia, what were you doing?" She couldn't answer that. "I didn't know where else to go," she whispered instead. "You can stay here. As long as you need." "I can't." "Why not?" Because she'd already taken too much from people. Because she was a burden. "Stay," Alex said. "At least for a week. Figure out your next steps." A week. Then what? But she nodded. "Try to sleep," Alex said. He stood. Walked to the door. "I'm down the hall if you need anything." He left. She put the mug on the nightstand. Lay down. Pulled the covers up. The sheets smelled clean. Fresh. Nothing like before. She closed her eyes. Didn't think she'd sleep. But exhaustion pulled her under anyway. When she woke, sunlight streamed through the windows. Bright. Harsh. For a second she didn't know where she was. Then it all came back. She sat up. Her body ached. Her head pounded. A clock on the nightstand said 9:47. Her phone. Where was her phone? She found it on the dresser. Alex must have brought it in. She turned it on. Messages flooded in. Marco. Seventeen of them. She scrolled past those. Then she saw one from an unknown number. She opened it. "Hi Lucia! It's Margaret. Marco gave me your number. Hope you don't mind! Quick question, where do you keep your face products? I want to try your routine. Your skin always looked so glowy!" Lucia stared at the screen. Face products? She hadn't used face products in years. Just soap. Water. Whatever was cheap at the store. But Margaret thought. Margaret assumed. Another message came through. "Also, do you have a specific brand for your hair? It always looked so shiny!" Shiny. Lucia touched her hair. Dry. Frizzy. Damaged from years of cheap shampoo. She wanted to throw the phone. Wanted to scream. But she did nothing. Just turned the phone off. Put it back on the dresser. A knock on the door. "Come in," she said. The door burst open. A girl bounced in. Curly dark hair. Big smile. Energy radiating off her. "Hi! You're awake! Dad said not to bother you but I couldn't wait anymore. I'm Lena!" Lena. Alex's daughter. "Hi," Lucia managed. "Dad said you're staying with us for a bit. That's so cool. We never have guests. Well, we do but they're boring business people. You're different. I can tell." The girl talked fast. Bright. Bubbly. "I'm Lucia," she said. "I know! Dad told me. He said you were friends a long time ago. Like before I was born." Lena sat on the edge of the bed. Uninvited but somehow not intrusive. "How old are you?" Lucia asked. "Fifteen. Well, fifteen and a half." Same age as Lucas. The thought stabbed. "Are you okay?" Lena's smile faded. "You look sad." "I'm fine," Lucia lied. "Dad says that too. When he's not fine. Adults always say they're fine." Smart kid. "I have kids," Lucia said. Didn't know why she said it. "Three of them." "Cool! Where are they?" "They don't want me." Lena's face scrunched up. "That's stupid. Kids always want their moms." If only. "My mom died," Lena said. Casual. "Cancer. I was five. I barely remember her." "I'm sorry." "It's okay. I mean it's not. But I'm okay. Dad made sure." Lena picked at the blanket. "He's really good at taking care of people. Even when he's sad. He was really sad after Mom died." Ten years. Alex's wife died ten years ago. "You live in this huge place," Lucia said. "Just the two of you?" "Yep. Well, and the staff. Maria cooks. Roberto does the gardens." Lena shrugged. "It's a lot of space. Gets lonely sometimes. But Dad works a lot. Building companies. I don't really get it. Just know he's really rich." Extremely wealthy. Looking around, it was obvious. "Must be nice," Lucia said. "Sometimes." Lena's smile came back. "Other times it's weird. People at school treat me different. They want to be my friend because of Dad's money. Not because they like me." "That sounds hard." "It is. But you learn who's real and who's fake pretty fast." Lena stood. "Anyway! Dad said to tell you breakfast is ready when you want." Lucia looked at the clock. Almost ten. "Come down when you're ready!" Lena headed for the door. Turned back. "I'm really glad you're here. The house feels less empty." She left. Lucia got out of bed. Found the bathroom again. Splashed water on her face. Looked in the mirror. Her eyes were puffy. Red. Her face was pale. She looked like a ghost. Stop it. She went downstairs. Followed the sound of voices. The kitchen was huge. White cabinets. Marble counters. An island in the middle. Alex stood at the stove. Lena sat on a stool. They were laughing about something. They looked happy. She stood in the doorway. Suddenly feeling like an intruder. Alex saw her. "Hey. You're up. Hungry?" "I don't know," she said honestly. "Well, I made eggs. And toast. And bacon. And pancakes because Lena insisted." "I always insist," Lena said. "Pancakes are life." Lucia sat on a stool. Alex put a plate in front of her. But she picked up a fork. Took a bite. It tasted like nothing. But she chewed. Swallowed. "So," Alex said. Leaning against the counter. "You can stay here. Week or so. Figure out what you want to do next." Lucia's hands tightened around the fork. "I can't pay you." "I'm not asking you to." Her throat closed up. "I don't have anything." "Then stay until you do." Alex's voice was gentle. "No pressure." Lena grabbed her arm. "Please stay! I've always wanted another girl in this house." Something in Lucia's chest cracked. This girl. This bright girl who didn't know her. Who had no reason to want her here. But she did. "Okay," Lucia whispered. "Great!" Lena squeezed her arm. "This is going to be so fun!" Fun. When was the last time Lucia had fun? She couldn't remember. Alex smiled at her. Small. Understanding. For the first time since Marco walked in with Margaret, something other than pain settled in her chest. Not hope. Not quite. But possibility. Maybe. Chapter 4 Alex stood in his office. Door closed. Locked. He stared at the monitor on his desk. Security footage from the guest room hallway. Lucia was still asleep. He rubbed his face. Hadn't slept. Just watched. Made sure she didn't leave. Didn't hurt herself. His phone buzzed. Thomas. His private investigator. "Confirmed. Marco Lewis filed divorce papers this morning. Moving fast." Alex's jaw clenched. Of course. Lock everything down before Lucia could think straight. He typed back. "Keep monitoring. I want to know everything." He put the phone down. Looked at the monitor again. Lucia. Thirty-three years he'd loved her. Thirty-three years of watching from the shadows. He was seven when he met her. She was seven too. First day of second grade. New kid. Poor kid. His clothes were too big. Hand-me-downs from his older cousin. The other kids laughed. Called him trash. Said he smelled. Then Lucia stood up. Tiny thing with wild hair and a voice that didn't match her size. "Shut up. All of you. He's new and you're being mean." She sat next to him that day. Every day after that. Her family had money. Big house. Nice cars. But she never cared that he had nothing. They were inseparable. Did everything together. Then high school happened. Sixteen years old. She was laughing at something stupid he said. He looked at her and. Oh. Oh no. He fell in love with her that day. Never told her. How could he? She was Lucia Hart. Beautiful. Smart. Rich family. He was Alex Kane. Poor kid with holes in his shoes and a drunk father. So he stayed quiet. Stayed her best friend. Died a little every time she talked about other boys. Then college. Marco showed up. Marco with his car and his clothes and his confidence. Marco who could give her everything Alex couldn't. She fell for him. Fast. Talked about him constantly. Alex listened. Smiled. Pretended his heart wasn't breaking. When she got engaged, he couldn't anymore. Couldn't watch her marry someone else. So he left. Changed his number. Moved cities. Built his company from nothing. Turned heartbreak into empire. And he watched her. Always. Hired Thomas five years after her wedding. Just to check. Make sure she was okay. Reports came. Photos. Updates. Lucia looked content. Three kids. Nice house. He told himself that was enough. She was happy. That mattered. But he kept the reports coming. Couldn't stop. Couldn't let go. Then last week Thomas called. "You need to see this." Photos of Marco. With Margaret. Coming out of hotels. Kissing in parking lots. "How long?" Alex asked. "Two years. Maybe more." His blood boiled. "Find out everything. I want dates. Times. Proof." Thomas delivered. Marco was planning to leave Lucia. Their anniversary party. Public humiliation. Alex tried to stop it. Drove to the venue. But he was too late. People were leaving. Talking. Gossiping. "Did you see her face?" "So embarrassing." He grabbed someone. "Where did Lucia go?" "She ran out. In the rain." He searched. Drove through streets. Panicking. Then he saw her. On the bridge. Climbing the railing. His heart stopped. He ran. Grabbed her wrist just as she fell. And now she was here. In his house. A second chance. He didn't deserve it. But he had her here. That's what mattered. A knock on his office door. "Dad?" Lena. He unlocked the door. She walked in. Looked at him. "You didn't sleep," she said. "I'm fine." "You always say that." She sat across from his desk. "We need to talk about Lucia." "What about her?" "I saw your face this morning. When you looked at her. I've never seen you look at anyone like that. Not even Mom." Alex's chest tightened. "Lena." "Tell me the truth. Who is she?" He sat down. "We were friends. I told you that." "Friends don't look at each other the way you looked at her." Smart kid. Too smart. "She was my best friend. Growing up." "And?" "And I fell in love with her. In high school." Lena leaned forward. "Did you tell her?" "No." "Why not?" "Because I was poor. She was rich. I had nothing." "That's stupid." "Maybe. But that's how it felt." Alex looked at his hands. "Then she met Marco in college. He had everything I didn't." "So you left." "Yeah." "And now she's here." "Yeah." "Do you still love her?" The question hung there. Heavy. "Yeah," Alex whispered. "I never stopped." Lena was quiet. Then. "How did you find her last night? On that bridge?" Alex went cold. "What?" "You just happened to be driving by? That's a pretty big coincidence, Dad." He couldn't lie to her. "I've been keeping track of her. For years. Through an investigator." Lena's eyes widened. "You've been stalking her?" "Not stalking. Making sure she was okay." "Dad. That's literally stalking." "I know. I know it sounds bad. But I needed to know she was safe." "And when you found out about Marco cheating?" "I tried to stop it. Tried to get there before he humiliated her. But I was too late." "So you went looking for her." "Thomas said she left the party. I drove around. Then I saw her on the bridge." Lena stood. Walked to the window. "This is a lot, Dad." "I know." "Does she know? About the investigator? About you watching her?" "No. And she can't know. Not now." "You have to tell her eventually." "I know." "If she finds out on her own, she'll hate you." "I know that too." Alex stood. Walked over to his daughter. "But right now, she needs stability. Not more chaos. Not more betrayal." "You think she'll see it as betrayal?" "Probably." "Do you think she ever loved you? Back then?" The question hurt. He'd asked himself that a thousand times. "I don't know. She never said anything. Never gave any sign." "Or maybe she did love you and you were both too scared to say it." Worse thought. That they could have had something. That he'd wasted years because he was a coward. "Doesn't matter now," Alex said. "She's healing. That's important." "When are you going to tell her?" Lena asked. "About your feelings? About everything?" "Not now." "When?" "I don't know. When she's stronger." "What if she's never ready?" "Then I'll keep it to myself. Like I have for thirty-three years." Lena turned to face him. "That's sad, Dad." "Maybe. But her happiness matters more." "Mom knew, didn't she? About Lucia?" Alex nodded. "Yeah. Sandra knew." "Did she mind?" "She said she didn't. Said she understood. That people carry ghosts. That loving someone unavailable doesn't mean you can't love someone else." "Do you think she was happy? With you?" "I hope so. I tried to make her happy. I really did love her, Lena. Your mom was incredible. Patient. Kind." "But?" "But she wasn't Lucia." The words came out broken. "And that's not fair. To her memory. To you. But it's the truth." Lena walked over. Hugged him. "I'm not mad, Dad. I just want you to be happy. Really happy." "I am happy. I have you." "You know what I mean." He did. "Give it time," he said. "Let Lucia heal. Then maybe." "Promise me you'll tell her. Eventually. About everything." "Lena." "Promise me, Dad. She deserves the truth." He closed his eyes. "I promise. When the time is right." "Good." She pulled back. "Now go shower. You smell like stress." He laughed. First real laugh in days. "I'm serious. Go. I'll make sure Lucia has everything she needs." "Don't tell her anything." "I won't. But you will. Soon." She left. Alex walked back to his desk. Looked at the monitor. Lucia was awake. Sitting on the edge of the bed. Looking lost. His heart ached. Thirty-three years he'd loved her. Thirty-three years of silence. Maybe Lena was right. Maybe he needed to tell her. But not now. Not when she was broken. He'd wait. Be patient. Be there. And hope. Hope that eventually she might see him as more than just her childhood friend who saved her life. Hope that eventually she might love him back. But even if she didn't. He'd still be here. Still protect her. Because that's what you did when you loved someone. You stayed. Even when it hurt. Even when it was hopeless. You stayed. Chapter 5 Lucia sat on the bed. Her phone in her hand. Staring at the screen. She shouldn't do this. She knew she shouldn't. But her fingers moved anyway. Opening Instagram. Typing in Ria's username. The profile loaded. Public. Of course. Photos filled the screen. Recent ones. From yesterday. Her breath caught. There. A video. Posted three hours ago. She clicked it. Laughter came first. Happy laughter. Then the image loaded. Marco. Margaret. And all three kids. Sitting around a table. Pizza boxes open. Everyone smiling. "Say hi to everyone!" Ria's voice. She was recording. "Hi!" Monica waved at the camera. Big smile. Lucas gave a thumbs up. Grinning. Margaret leaned into Marco. "We're having the best family night!" Family night. Lucia's hands shook. "Margaret makes the best homemade cookies," Monica said. "Way better than Mom's store bought ones." The words stabbed. "And she actually listens when we talk," Ria added. "Like really listens. Not just pretending while looking at her phone." Lucia never looked at her phone during conversations. Never. "Plus she's cool," Lucas said. "She gets us. You know?" Margaret laughed. Kissed Marco's cheek. "These kids are amazing. I'm so lucky." The video ended. Lucia stared at the black screen. Her reflection stared back. Pale. Hollow. She scrolled down. More photos. Margaret braiding Monica's hair. Margaret and Ria shopping. Matching bags. Lucas teaching Margaret how to play video games. All posted today. Captions about how wonderful Margaret was. Not one mention of Lucia. Her chest hurt. Like something inside was tearing. She kept scrolling. Couldn't stop. Another video. Margaret's account. "My new family!" Margaret's voice. Cheerful. Sweet. The camera panned. Marco cooking. The kids setting the table. "I've always wanted kids," Margaret said. "And now I have three perfect ones. Dreams really do come true!" Lucia's phone slipped from her fingers. Fell onto the bed. She couldn't breathe. They replaced her. Two days. Two days and they'd already replaced her. A sound came from her throat. Half sob. Half scream. She grabbed a pillow. Pressed it to her face. Maybe they were right. Maybe she was a bad mother. Maybe Margaret was better. No. No. But look at them. Look how happy they were. The tears came. Loud. Ugly. A knock on the door. Soft. She didn't answer. The door opened anyway. "Lucia?" Alex. She couldn't look at him. "Hey." His voice got closer. "What happened?" She shook her head. The bed dipped. He sat beside her. "Talk to me," he said. She lowered the pillow. Her face was wet. "I looked at their social media," she whispered. "The kids." Alex's jaw tightened. "What did you see?" "They're with Marco. And her. Margaret. They posted videos. They look. They look so." She couldn't say it. Alex picked up her phone. Looked at the screen. His face went hard. "This is cruel," he said. "Maybe it's true." The words came out broken. "Maybe I was a terrible mother. Maybe they're better off." "Stop." "Look at them, Alex. They don't miss me at all." "They're kids being manipulated." "They chose her." "They chose what's easier. That doesn't make you bad." Lucia pulled her knees to her chest. "I should call them. Maybe if I just. If I explain." "Explain what? They don't want to hear it." The bluntness hurt. But it was true. She grabbed her phone. Opened it. Stared at Monica's number. What would she even say? Please love me again? Please remember I'm your mother? Her finger hovered over the call button. "Don't," Alex said quietly. She put the phone down. Face down. Alex was quiet. Then he stood. Walked to the window. "I have an idea," he said. "But you'll probably think I'm insane." She looked up. "What?" He turned to face her. Hesitated. Like he was debating something. "Disappear," he finally said. "What?" "Leave. Go somewhere far. Reinvent yourself. Come back when you're ready." "I can't just leave." "Why not? What's keeping you here?" The question hung there. What was keeping her? Nothing. Nobody wanted her here. "Where would I even go?" she asked. Alex took a breath. "Germany. I have a villa there. Countryside. Quiet. You could stay as long as you need." Germany. Another country. "And do what?" "Learn. Transform." He walked back over. Sat on the bed again. "I can teach you about business. Finance. How money works. You could come back different. Stronger." "Why would I need to know about business?" Alex hesitated again. Like he was afraid to tell her. "Marco is hiding assets offshore," he finally said. Lucia stared at him. "What?" "I had Thomas dig deeper. Marco has accounts in the Cayman Islands. Properties under shell companies. He's been planning this." Her stomach turned. "How long?" "At least five years." Five years. "The affair. The quick wedding. It's all calculated." Alex's voice was steady. "He wants to marry Margaret fast. Lock everything down before you can do anything." "He's going to marry her?" "Already applied for the license. Wedding next month." Next month. Their divorce wasn't even final. "How do you know all this?" she asked. "Thomas is good at his job." "You've been investigating Marco?" "Yes." She should be angry. Should feel violated. But she just felt. Tired. "What else?" "Marco's company. I own shares. Thirty percent." Lucia looked at him. "Thirty?" "I'm the second largest shareholder. Marco doesn't know. The shares are under a holding company." "Why are you telling me this?" Alex looked down at his hands. "Because I can help you. If you want. I can give you leverage. Information. Everything you need to fight back." Fight back. She'd never fought back against anything. "I don't know how to fight," she said. "I'll teach you." "In Germany." "Yes." She stood up. Walked to the window. Looked out at the gardens. Six months in another country. Learning things she didn't understand. Coming back. For what? "What if I come back and nothing changes?" she asked. "What if I'm still nobody? What if they still don't want me?" "Then at least you'll be somebody who chose to fight." "But what if I don't want to fight? What if I just want my kids back?" The words cracked on the way out. Alex stood. Walked over. Stood beside her. "You can't make people love you," he said quietly. "Not even your kids. But you can make them respect you. You can make them regret what they did." "Is that enough?" "I don't know. But it's better than this." She looked at him. Really looked. He looked scared. Like he was afraid she'd say no. Like this mattered to him more than he was saying. "Why do you care so much?" she asked. He opened his mouth. Closed it. Looked away. "Because you deserve better," he finally said. "You always did." The air between them felt charged. "If I do this," she said slowly. "If I go. What happens to me?" "What do you mean?" "I'll be alone. In a foreign country. Learning things I don't understand. What if I can't do it? What if I fail?" "You won't." "You don't know that." "No. But I believe it." She wanted to believe it too. But believing meant hoping. And hoping meant risking more pain. "I'm scared," she whispered. "I know." "What if they're right about me? What if I really am that terrible?" "You're not." "How do you know?" "Because I've known you for thirty-three years. And you've never been terrible. Not once." The words hit something in her chest. She looked back out the window. The sun was setting. Orange and pink. Tomorrow she could leave. Start over. Become someone new. Or she could stay. Keep crying. Keep checking their social media. Keep hurting. She thought about Monica's laugh in that video. Lucas's smile. Ria's happiness. They were fine without her. Better even. Something inside her shifted. Hardened. "Okay," she said. "Okay?" "Yeah. Germany. All of it." Alex's face changed. Relief. "You won't regret this." "I already regret everything else." He almost smiled. She looked down at her phone. Still on the bed. Still showing her kids with someone else. "I want them to see," she said. Voice quiet. "I want them to see me different. Strong. Someone they can't ignore." "They will." "And Marco. I want him to know he made a mistake." "He will." She didn't know if she believed him. But she wanted to. "When do we leave?" she asked. "Two days. I need to arrange some things first." Two days. "What about Lena?" "She's excited. Already packing." Of course she was. Lucia picked up her phone. Looked at it one last time. Then she deleted Instagram. Done watching. Done hurting. "Teach me everything," she said. Looking at Alex. "I want to know how to win." "I will." Outside, the sun disappeared. Darkness came. But for the first time in days, Lucia didn't feel afraid of it. She felt ready for it. Chapter 6 Sleep refused to come. Lucia paced her bedroom, bare feet silent on thick carpet. Each passing minute brought images she couldn't escape. Marco. Margaret. The kids. She paused at the window, pressing her palm against the cool glass. The gardens stretched out below, dark and quiet. Germany. A new identity. The chance to rebuild. Images from the past days swirled in her mind. Marco's cold face at the anniversary party. Margaret's victorious smile. The kids choosing her. Choosing to discard their own mother. She moved to the dresser where she had left her phone. Picked it up. Put it down. Picked it up again. One call. That's all it would take. One call to Monica. To beg. To plead. Please remember I'm your mother. But what would that accomplish? They'd made their choice. Clearly. Publicly. Cruelly. Lucia set the phone down, turning instead to face the mirror. The woman staring back looked hollow. Defeated. Used up. Is this who she was now? Who she'd always been? A woman so easily replaced? No. Not anymore. The truth hit her with sudden clarity. Marco hadn't just taken her marriage. He'd stolen her children. Poisoned them against her. Made them participants in her destruction. They needed to learn. All of them. That people couldn't be discarded without consequences. Morning found Lucia seated in the kitchen. She had dressed in the borrowed clothes, simple t-shirt and jeans. Her hair hung loose around her face. She heard footsteps and looked up to see Alex approaching. He carried two mugs, steam rising. "Couldn't sleep?" he asked, offering her one of the mugs. "No." She accepted the coffee, grateful for its warmth. Alex sat across from her at the island. "Did you think about what we discussed?" Lucia took a deep breath. "I want to leave today." Alex looked at her. "Today?" "Yes. I can't stay here anymore. Every second in this city, I feel like I'm drowning." "We can leave today," Alex said. "I'll make the arrangements." Relief washed through her. "Thank you." "What about your belongings? From the house?" The thought of going back there made her stomach turn. "I don't want anything from that place." "You'll need clothes." "Then I'll get new ones. In Germany. I want a completely fresh start." Alex studied her face. "You're sure?" "I've never been more sure of anything." Lucia's voice was steady. "For seventeen years, I've been living half a life. Being what Marco wanted. What the kids needed. What everyone expected. I forgot how to be just Lucia." "And now?" "Now I want to remember." She set her mug down. "I want to discover who I am without them. And then I want them to see that woman when it's too late." Alex nodded slowly. "It won't be easy." "I don't want easy." Lucia stood, restless energy filling her. "I want to grow. I want to transform. I want..." "Justice," Alex supplied quietly. She met his gaze. "Yes. Is that wrong?" "No." He rose to stand before her. "It's human. They hurt you deliberately. Wanting them to feel consequences doesn't make you a bad person." "Monica laughed," Lucia whispered. "My baby. She laughed when I signed those papers." Alex's hands twitched at his sides. "Children can be cruel." "This wasn't childish thoughtlessness. This was calculated." Her voice hardened. "They participated in destroying me. And they need to learn I won't be destroyed so easily." A smile curved Alex's lips. "There she is. The Lucia I remember. The fighter." "Was I? A fighter?" Lucia searched his face. "Sometimes I can't remember who I was before Marco." "You were magnificent," Alex said simply. "Fierce. The girl who defended me against bullies. Who stood up for what was right." His words sparked something inside her. A memory of the girl she had been. The one with dreams. The one who didn't back down. "I want to be her again," Lucia said. "Not exactly the same. But I want to find that strength. That sense of self." Alex nodded. "Then that's what we'll do. We can leave this afternoon. The villa is ready." "What about my legal situation? The divorce?" "My attorneys can handle everything. Marco won't be able to rush through without proper proceedings." "And my things from the house?" "I could send someone to retrieve them. Marco wouldn't know." The offer tempted her. Her books. Her photos. Small treasures. But something stopped her. "No," she said finally. "Let them go. They're part of the old Lucia. She doesn't exist anymore." Alex studied her. "Some of those things have sentimental value." Lucia thought of the photo albums. The children's artwork. Family souvenirs. Each one a knife now. "The memories aren't in the objects. They're here." She touched her chest. "I'm taking them with me. Both the good and the bad." Alex nodded, respect in his gaze. "I'll tell Lena our plans." "Lena is coming?" "She insisted. She's quite taken with you." The words touched Lucia deeply. This girl who barely knew her cared more than her own children. Footsteps on the stairs. Lena appeared, face brightening when she spotted them. "You're both up early!" Alex turned to his daughter. "Lucia has decided to come with us. We're leaving this afternoon." Lena's eyes widened. "Really? That's amazing!" She rushed forward to hug Lucia. "You won't regret it." Lucia returned the embrace, surprised by how natural it felt. "I'm glad you're coming." "I wouldn't miss it." Lena stepped back. "What about Marco and the kids?" The direct question might have seemed insensitive from anyone else. "I don't know exactly," Lucia admitted. "I know I want consequences. I know I want them to realize what they threw away. But the exact form..." She shook her head. "I need time." Lena nodded. "The best plans aren't rushed. They're crafted carefully." Alex shot his daughter a look. "Lena." "What? I'm just being honest." Lena shrugged. "Lucia deserves justice." "It's alright," Lucia assured Alex. "She's right. I don't want blind revenge. I want them to face the natural consequences of their choices. To realize exactly what they lost." The conversation shifted to practicalities. What Lucia would need. How long they might stay. Managing the divorce remotely. Throughout the discussion, Lucia felt something shifting inside her. Each decision removed another weight from her shoulders. She was choosing her path now. Not following Marco's lead or the kids' needs. For the first time in years, Lucia was putting herself first. After breakfast, she returned to her room. Her few belongings fit into the small bag Alex had given her. The physical reminder of how little she had left was sobering. But also freeing. She was traveling light into her new life. Unburdened. As she zipped the bag, Lucia caught sight of her reflection. The woman gazing back seemed different already. Posture straighter. Eyes clearer. Jaw set with determination. Not yet the woman she would become. But no longer the woman Marco had discarded. This afternoon, she would board a plane to Germany. Would begin remaking herself far from their reach. Would learn about business, about power, about strength. And one day, when she was ready, when she had transformed, she would return. Would face Marco and the children not as the desperate woman they cast aside, but as someone they barely recognized. Someone they underestimated. Someone who survived and emerged stronger. They thought they knew Lucia Hart. Soon, they would meet Lucia Smith. And nothing would ever be the same. -------------- There are limited chapters to put here, click “learn more” to open App to continue reading (It will automatically jump to the book)

I am Demetra, the girl whose mother slept with every gamma, beta, and zeta…trying to climb her way up, only to crash-land at the very bottom and leave me here to clean up her mess in the Black Covenant Pack. As the lowest-ranking omega in the pack house, my glorious destiny is to personally serve one of three sons of Alpha Kael. Emris. Emris. Emris. Emris. My world is the four walls of his penthouse bedroom. I’m the ghost who takes his designer clothes to the laundry. I scrub his desk. I pick up the condoms after he’s done with whatever girl he drags home from the club. I’m the one who patches up the cuts and bruises from fights he doesn’t want his parents to know about, dabbing at his knuckles while he stares straight through me. I even cut his hair when it gets too long cause he hates when it brushes his shoulders. And when his famous temper explodes, shattering a lamp or hurling it against the wall, I’m the one on my knees, picking up the pieces. Always on my knees. Because Emris runs on a fuel of rage. However, the day I turned eighteen, a mate bond snapped between us during one of my cleaning routines. Me, a nobody, became mated to the first son of the Alpha. The one everyone whispers will inherit everything, because while all two of brothers are hybrids, Emris is the strongest…he is a Trybrid werewolf. Emris, who has never looked at me twice, suddenly couldn’t stand for me to be out of his sight. Yet, despite his new possessiveness. He warned me never to tell a soul that we were mates. Afterall, I’m an orphaned omega, a high-school dropout because the pack’s "charity" didn't cover an actual education. My father isn’t some politician or business mogul; he’s probably one of the countless faceless men my mother entertained. I am the pack’s pity project, the girl they “saved,” and my lifelong repayment has been to scrub their floors and make their beds. He was ashamed of me. The first time Emris ever truly looked at me was the day the mate bond snapped into place. I remember how his uncovered eye, stared down at me while the other was hidden under the usual black patch. The next time I saw him without that black patch, it revealed his serpent-lined colored eyes as he took my virginity in his bed. And I love him. Goddess, I love him with my entire soul, a stupid, desperate love that lives in the deepest, most secret part of my heart. I loved him when he made me his dirty secret. I loved him through his coldness and the countless ways he shattered my heart, only to gather the pieces and hand them back to him all over again. I am the one who watches him sleep. I am the one rocked him back to reality when he woke up from the nightmares of the two years he spent as a kid, locked in an enemy’s pack dungeon. He was broken, far from perfect, but he was everything to me. “Where you going?” His rough voice makes me stop buttoning my stupid house help uniform. I see my reflection in his floor-length mirror, my doll like white hair is all ruffled from where he fisted his hands in it, arching me against me just minutes ago. “It’s almost time for breakfast.” I look around his bedroom for my bra. “Shit.” Emris runs a hand down his face. I see the forgotten cup of water on his nightstand. The one I brought him last night before he pulled me into his bed and made me forget my own name. “This what you’re looking for?” I see my light blue bra dangling from his finger. I march over and reach for it, but he lifts his hand higher. “I’m already late. Give it.” I hold my palm out and try to sound firm. He pushes his dark hair back and sits up. The sheets pools around his nak3d waist. I can’t help the quick swallow in my throat as I take in the hard planes of his ab muscles or his calloused hands that held my waist so tightly I couldn’t escape a thrvst. “Did I say you could leave yet?” Emris’ voice is deceptively soft. “Keep it, then.” I frown and walk out. I can’t do this with him today. I hear his low chuckle behind me. “I don’t like your saltiness. Or is it moodiness? I don’t like your jealousy, either. I have so much to do today, the last thing I want is that attitude from you.” I do my best not to turn around and look at him. He knows exactly why I’m upset. The whole pack knows. The Alpha of the Mud Claw Pack’s daughter, Elena. Emris’s ex-girlfriend has just moved into the pack house. Luna Derisha is already parading her around, calling her his future Luna. And I’m here. His actual, true mate. His dirty little secret. “Demetra?” His tone shifts. It’s becoming a warning. “Don’t let me have to call you a second time!” When I turn, he’s out of bed in a loose pair of pants, walking towards the balcony where I’m standing at. “You know why I’m upset.” Emris rips off his black eye patch and tosses it aside. He usually covers that eye because his wolf gets agitated, and when it does, he can’t control the change. His left eye burns with a ring of gold, the pupil a terrifying thin slit. It scares people. But then, everything about Emris is designed to be scary. I’m just the idiot who’s in love with him, so I see past it. “You’re acting like I slept with Elena this morning!” “Wow.” I let out a scoff that’s designed to hide the hot press of tears in my throat. “So, you want to sleep with her? You can’t wait to have your ex-girlfriend back in your bed?” “Stop it. Her father is an Alpha. My mom is just securing my claim to the Alpha seat. It’s not personal—” “We are mates!” I yell and I’ve never yelled at him before. “You’re an omega.” Emris says it like it’s a disease. “That’s weak for a Trybrid like me. That’s a liability for the Alpha I’m becoming!” “You sleep with me! You claim me almost every night! But now, suddenly, I’m too weak for you because the Alpha seat is up for grabs?” In a second, he’s right in front of me. I watch the pupil in his left eye, “the serpent-like one” dilates. “Don’t you ever disrespect me. I paid for your high school. I offered to pay for college, but you were too proud to take it. I bought you a car you never drove! I give you a roof, my protection, and this is how you thank me?” Emris pulls me and I land against his bare chest, face inches from his. There, I force myself to go still so I won’t anger the beast further. I didn’t accept his gifts because I was sick of feeling like his charity case, a bill he had to pay for the mate he never wanted. “Once I'm Alpha, my pups will be in your belly. You'll... be under my protection for life." He roughs a brand across my waist before palming my back side. There comes the famous grab as he does a little tap-tap-tap taps with ownership. Usually, it would make me blush but this time, I just look at him with tears. However, Emris doesn’t see tears. He’s cold-blooded, and the worst part is, he’s proud of it. “As what?” I look up at him from what feels like a million miles below. The one thing I want is for him to claim me as his mate. To look at me and see his equal, his other half, not a constant reminder of how we’re opposites. Emris just stares back. Of course, he’s going to pretend he doesn’t understand what I’m asking. He’s an expert at that. “Change that jealous look on your face before I see you again.” I push his hand away from my waist and instantly feel cold. I walk out of his bedroom. The moment I step into the moving area of the pack house, I nearly collide with the head chef, whose face is twisted into a scowl that could curdle milk. “Where have you been?!” “I, uh… I woke up late.” I quickly answer. My job is only to maintain Emris’s private penthouse, so I have no idea why she’s so furious with me. “We’re short-staffed. Go help Miss Elena take her bags to her room.” Susan points and my stomach plummets. There she is. Elena Orient. Emris’ ex-girlfriend. Chapter 2 Elena was a part-time cheerleading trainer at Magnus High for a year. It’s the high school I was able to attend because of Emris’s “charity.” She’s at least four years older than me, and she was that impossibly cool adult all the younger girls, including me, desperately wanted to be. The boys were all secretly in love with her. She had perfect, bouncy blonde waves. Back when I was a gawky, puberty-stricken freshman, I’d daydream about looking like her one day. So yeah, I’m jealous. Elena Orient comes from a rich family, a powerful pack, and everyone adores her. She’s everything I’m not. I remember the first time she saw Emris. It was Guardians’ Day. I didn't have anyone to come for me, but he showed up. He was there for his sister, Teddy but I’ll never forget the way everyone stared as he walked straight up to me in the crowded hallway. The next day, Elena actually sought me out to ask me who he was. It was the first time our cheer instructor had ever spoken directly to me. I gave her his name, never imagining that simple answer would lead to them dating. Back then, I didn't care. I wasn't eighteen; the mate bond was silent, and Emris's life was his own. Now, everything is different. "Morning.” I say. Elena finally looks up from her phone. Even at 7 a.m., her blonde hair is bouncy and shiny. Makeup. She’s dressed in designer clothes plus perfumes. She’s obviously hoping to run into Emris, but he’s probably in the middle of his brutal gym session, followed by a wild run through the woods. He won't be back for at least an hour. "OMG! Demetra, right?" "Yeah. I should take your bags up—" I reach for one of the bold pink suitcases, but when I try to lift it, it doesn't even budge. "Did Emris send you to help me?" What does she think I am, his personal messenger? "Does he know I'm here already?" "No, Miss Elena." I reposition myself to wrestle with the luggage again. "Where is he? Still sleeping? Is he awake?" I give the stubborn bag a hard yank. "Can you give me an answer!?" There comes her irritation. I’d almost forgotten that behind that smile, she wears a lot of masks and her true personality is just plain evil. "I'm not sure, Miss Elena—" "Then, what use are you?" I pull the bag with all my might, and this time, it sends me backward. I lose my balance and crash to the floor just as Luna Derisha walks in with another guest. Oh no. “Elena, why are your luggage not taken yet!?” Luna Derisha’s asks. I get up quickly. “This weak omega—” Luna Derisha’s eyes narrow on me but she forces a smile for the guest. Elena’s mother, who’s watching the entire scene. “I’m sorry, Luna.” I step back. I know better than to be within arm’s reach when she’s like this; her slaps are swift. “Wow, her hair is so beautiful. She is such a beautiful young woman.” I see the muscle in Luna Derisha’s jaw twitch as the woman complements me. She hates any reminder of my mother, and my looks are the biggest reminder of all. Thankfully, Luna Derisha’s drivers come in and effortlessly haul the luggage away. “Luna, the tables are ready.” the head housekeeper announces. The moment they’re out of earshot, Luna Derisha turns on me. “I don’t even know your use in this house. All you do is fatten yourself on our food, yet your strength stays the same.” I stare at the ground. It’s better not to look at her. “Because of us, the sickly thing your mother gave birth to is growing. Your cream-white hair is getting longer. Your uniform is getting tighter on your body. Your hips are fattening like a wh0re’s, your…” She shakes her head in disgust. “It’s those same things your mother used to attract the lowest of the lows. Tell me, are you heading down the same path?” “No, Luna.” I answer quickly. “Get out of my sight! And did I not ask you to dye that hair black?” Someone calls Luna Derisha so her attention finally goes away from me. The moment she looks away. I feel a violent surge in my throat and I throw my hand against it. I don’t know if it’s the humiliation, the stress of the morning, or something else entirely, but I don’t wait to find out. I turn and run across the marble floors until I burst into the empty staff bathroom. I barely make it to the stall before my insides seem to rupture. I vomit and vomit and vomit until my stomach is empty. Tears are streaming down my face as I stare at myself in the mirror. Why am I vomiting? Is it the oats I ate last night? And then my brain decides to gives me an answer. Hey, remember that little monthly thing that ghosted you last month? Oh no. Oh, Moon Goddess… am I pregnant? Pregnant with Emris’ child? *** I change out of my uniform, into a pair of jeans and a top. I need a pregnancy test. Now. I've been sitting in front of the desk for the past three hours, trying to count days on a calendar, but it's useless. The problem is Emris. Our schedule last month was basically, all s3x. In his room, in mine, sometimes in a skyscraper hotel suite when his late-night meetings with the jet company ran long. Today is the 20th. No sign of my period. That can only mean one thing. We used protection… sometimes. When he remembered. Emris gets so lost in the claiming in a way that makes it impossible for either of us to think straight. I go out through the back kitchen, hoping to go unnoticed. "Where are you going?" Summer, my best friend blocks my path and shoves her hands into her flour-dusted apron, looking less like my ride-or-die and more like a very suspicious, pastry-based bouncer. "Luna Derisha is on a warpath today. So lucky you only answer to Emris. What's going on with you?" "Uh, I just have to run an errand—" "Ugh, don't even get me started. That Elena is such a snob. She brought thirty boxes of Louboutin, Chanel and had the nerve to ask if we'd ever touched anything like that. Please tell me a b1tch like that isn't going to be our next Luna." "Summer, if anyone hears you, you're going to lose your job." Paxton warns, he’s the assistant chef. "She's not wrong. Riley is arranging Elena’s closet right now. There are, like, a hundred pairs." Someone else says. "Guys, I really have to go." I try to sidestep them. But Paxton places a hand around my stomach region to stop me. He's always been overly concerned about me. "Are you okay? You look a bit…pale." Before I can answer, my eyes do a casual sweep past his shoulder to the kitchen's large glass windows. And I freeze. Emris is there, a million-foot tall on the gravel, making a phone call in his stuntman stature. He’s staring straight at us. Specifically, at Paxton’s hand, which is currently resting on the exact location of his potential future heir. For his own safety, and to prevent a murder in the parking lot, I crank up a smile. "I'm fine, Pax! Really. Just a quick trip into town. I’ll be back soon.” I hurry out to the gardens but a text lights up my phone from Emris. Just one word: Garage. I knew he wouldn’t let what he saw slide. His private garage is dim and it’s the first time we'd met here. The car Emris is in is a black Bentley that cost more than my life. With blue interior lights that make him a villain of a sci-fi movie. Emris unfolds himself from the seat. “You’re gonna use that nobody to make me jealous!” He has the most devastatingly handsome face I’ve ever seen. Skin like rich gold, messy black hair that looks better the more he runs his hands through it. He’s taller and stronger than any man I’ve ever known. I’ve felt the raw power in his thighs when they move under me, I’ve listened to the steady beat of his heart against my chest. It’s the universe’s cruellest joke that a voice so rough and harsh comes attached to a mouth that gives the softest kisses. “That’s not what I was doing.” “What was he about to touch?” “Emris, Paxton is just my friend. I’ve told you this over and over… he’s just looking out for me.” He rises to his full, ridiculous height. A skyscraper of a jealous Alpha he will soon become. I am forced to step back until I bump into another of his cars. He’s jealous. And when he’s jealous, he’s less a man and more a walking, talking grenade with the pin already pulled. “Looking out for you?” He tilts his neck in that specific way he does, a gesture that shows the tattoos on his throat and across his collarbones. I know they travel all the way down to his waist. I’ve traced them with my fingers before. “Because I don’t do enough looking out for you already!?” “Someone could see us. I should go—” “Get in.” I just stare at him in surprise. Emris has never, ever let me in the same car as him before, especially not while we're on pack grounds. This is breaking like twelve of his own rules. “If someone sees—” He drags me to the passenger side and pushes me in. Chapter 3 A moment later, he’s driving us smoothly away from the pack house, and I melt into the leather chair. “Where?” “Huh?” Emris hisses. “Where are you going? Don’t piss me off, Demetra.” “The, um… to the store.” “What could you possibly want from the store that you cannot get at the pack house!?” “Some hygiene products.” I squeakily lie. “And a new bra.” When we get to the shopping mall, his phone rings. Thank god, a distraction. He throws a black credit card at me without even looking, and I take it. I only accept because refusing would be a whole thing and I need him to be distracted. I go straight to the pharmacy section. My hands are literally shaking as I grab the test. I pay with my own cash and buy two, just to be sure. I also snag a random, overpriced bra I don’t need as my decoy. I lock myself in a bathroom stall and after ten minutes, my eyes instantly water when both tests show the result. Two pink lines. Two. I stare at myself in the mirror over the sink, looking again and again and again, as if my reflection will have a different answer. I’m pregnant. I’m pregnant with Emris’s child. I wipe the tears away, only for more to fall. It’s positive. Both tests are undeniably, life-falteringly positive. I stumble out of the stall and mumble an apology to the annoyed women waiting in line. I rush to the counter to pay for the bra, hastily wiping my cheeks and glancing out the mall to see if Emris is still in the car. My hands are shaking so badly I fumble the card, dropping it twice. As I turn from the counter, I bump hard into an older man and it sends my shopping bag and Emris's black credit card to the floor. "I'm so sorry!" I get to my knees to gather my things. The man bends down too and picks up the card. "Here you go—" "Thanks. I am so sorry, sir!" I repeat until he doesn't let go. I look up and see him staring at me with an expression of shock, so intense that the card in his hand actually trembles. "Sir…?" I try to pull it back. "What is your name?" he asks. "You look familiar. What pack are you from?" "Sir, please. I'm in a hurry." I finally manage to tug the card from his fingers but the encounter is far from over. "Alpha?" I look up to see a guy who must be a million inches tall, built like a valley, standing behind the older man. Did he just call him... Alpha? The older man ignores his guard or is it his Beta to continue staring at me. "You have white hair. You….you have white hair.” Why’s he looking at me like he's seen a ghost. Yes, I have white hair and so? My mind is reeling from the pregnancy tests, and now this? Will Emris accept the pregnancy? Will Emris be happy when I tell him? Will Luna Derisha kill me when she finds out I’ve been sleeping with her son? The future heir of the pack. The Beta speaks. "Alpha, you don't think she is—" “Please, have my business card.” The older man presses an embossed card into my hand but I don’t take it. “Sir, I don’t understand what you are saying or doing—” “I am searching for my daughter. She has white hair, just like…” “I am not your daughter!” A father is the last thing I have or need on this earth. “Dad?” Another young man, handsome and well-dressed, walks up, addressing the older man. The moment his eyes land on me, his jaw goes slack. While I’m distracted by the son’s stunned reaction, the older man quickly slips his business card into the palm of my hand and closes my fingers around it. And at that exact moment, Emris enters. One look at his eyes and I know I’m in deep, deep trouble. “You.” Emris voice makes everyone look in our direction. I rush to the side of the living temptress I call my mate, thinking he’s furious with me, but his eyes are on the group of men. “Emris, son of Alpha Kael.” the older man says. “I haven't seen you since your father’s death—” “Don’t start with me, old foolish man!” My mate hisses. The son of the older man comes close. “It’s me you hate, Emris. Leave my father out of it. After all, only one of us still has a father left.” The male insults the devastating storm that is my Alpha and walks out the door. The older man follows, and the hefty Beta is the last to exit. “Everyone. Leave.” Emris’s voice isn’t loud, but the store employees and customers run for the exits. Including the owner of the establishment. I don’t think there’s a soul in West Virginia who doesn’t know who Emris is, or the danger that radiates from him. As soon as everyone leaves, I start to explain. “I’m sorry I took so long. My… my stuff fell and—” “First, you throw that puppy, Paxton, in my face. And now I find you cozying up to that dying old man Ronin and his waste-of-space son, Slade. Are you seriously this desperate for attention, or just profoundly stupid?” My eyes widen in genuine shock. That was Slade? The rival Alpha Emris has hated since they were boys? The one from the Lion Pride pack? “I swear, Emris, I didn’t know—” I don’t get to finish when kicks a nearby display, sending a whole aisle of canned goods to the floor. “Why are you doing this!?” I clamp my hands over my ears. “Why am I doing this!?” He kicks another shelf which topples like dominoes, scattering products everywhere before he storms back to me. “I saw him slip you his card. What’s your price, Demetra? Huh? Was my bed not enough of a platform for you to audition for your next role? Are you planning to be Slade’s new step-mom or Slade’s little wh0re? After acting so damn pure with me, refusing the things I try to give you… you come here to meet with Slade? To become his wh0re, just like you are to me?” Emris’ words don’t just hurt. They dissolve me. The heat behind my eyes instantly melts into tears that stream down my face. “W-wh0re? You are the only person I have ever been with!” “Then what do you call a person who is available for me to use morning and night? A convenience. You clean up my messes and warm my bed. I didn't call you anything you haven't proven yourself to be. Now, take whatever pathetic offer that old man gave you and get the hell out of my life forever.” Emris turns to leave but I run after him, furious tears blinding me as I throw my arms around his back like an idiot. “How can you call me that!?” I weep on his shirt. Emris pries my hands off with cold strength. “I saw it with my own eyes. I saw the interaction—” “I tried so hard! I refused your gifts, your money… I did everything I could so you would never, ever look at me that way! But at the end of the day, this is what you think of me? You have no heart, Emris. You are dark. You are…” I gasp for air as the insult dies on my tongue. “I am Alpha! My father is dead and I will be Alpha soon. If you’re still in my territory when I formalize my title, I will personally escort you down the Walk of Judgment. I’ll make sure the entire pack knows exactly what you are.” The Walk of Judgment is a nightmare. A walk of shame where the pack forces you out while throwing filth at you, sometimes tearing the clothes from your back. It’s the ultimate disgrace before being cast out to become a rogue. And he just threatened me with it. I force Emris to face me again. “It’s me, Demetra! Why are you acting this way? It was a misunderstanding! I didn’t know that was Slade! I didn’t know who they were!” “And he gave you a card. You might be naive enough to believe that was a coincidence, but I’m not, Demetra. So much for loyalty. How long has this been going on? How long have you been spreading your legs for Slade? Or is the old man getting a turn, too?” Emris insults are too much so I slap him! His head snaps to the side. Once I do that, there is only the sound of his breathing. His chest begins to rise, and rise, and rise so I move away. “We’re done.” Emris storms out. I watch through the glassed door as he speaks to the mall owner before getting into his car and speeding away, leaving me in the wreckage. Chapter 4 Slowly, I sink to my knees and weep from my lungs so deep it feels like it will break me. I am inconsolable, lost in a storm of tears when a timid voice speaks. “Miss? The… the man said you are the one to clean up the mess he made.” I look up at the mall owner and I frown into tears. How can we be over when I carry a new life, a part of him, inside my belly? I get back to the pack house a little past midnight. My body aches everywhere…. like even my bones are tired. I don’t bother turning on the light; I just crawl into bed and start crying all over again. The kind of crying that makes your throat hurt. Slade. Of all people, it had to be him. Emris hates Slade more than he hates any other enemy. He’s the son of Alpha Ronni from the Lion Pride Pack. The Lion Pride Pack and the Black Covenant share a territory….joined by waters, separated by Alphas. They’re rich, powerful but Emris would rather die than be in the same room as them. I didn’t even recognize them! The older man just… he thought I was someone else. My phone glows in the dark: 2:17 AM. A part of me still wants to go to him, to tell him again that this is a mistake. Maybe if he just listens one more time, he’ll see it. Why does loving him make me feel like such an idiot? I know deep down he doesn’t deserve it. He doesn’t deserve me. And yet… I still do. When I finally wake up, it’s because someone’s tapping my arm. “Demetra!” It’s the head chef’s voice. “Goodness, child, I thought you were dead for a second. Do you realize you’ve slept two hours past your shift? Emris’ suite—” Once I see it’s morning, I leap out of bed and dash into the bathroom. I’m so dead. I’m supposed to clean Emris’s room before he gets back from the gym. If even one of his stupid, expensive things is out of place, he throws a fit. Then he’s late for breakfast, and the whole pack knows it’s my fault. I shower and throw on my uniform then take the elevator straight up to the penthouse level. I start planning my apology in my head as I move into Emris’ floor. Suddenly, I stop because standing right in the middle of the living room are Elena and Luna Derisha. And Luna Derisha is holding something lacy and blue between her fingers. My bra. It’s the one Emris took yesterday. The one I told him, over and over, to give back. I forget how to breathe but I have to say something. “Lu… Luna.” Luna Derisha’s violet eyes look almost black. “Who owns this?” I rub my hands on my apron like that’ll make me look less guilty. “Um… I don’t know.” I lie. The door behind me swings open and Radu fills the threshold like a dark mountain. He is the Luna’s gamma, the wolf everyone hushes for in the halls. He’s the one who rescued Emris after he was kidnapped and caged for two years as a kid. Radu doesn’t waste words, he only growls and moves when the Luna says so. Seeing him here means this isn’t just a scolding; it’s an execution. “You fucking slut! You’re trying to seduce my son. You put your bra in my son’s closet.” Elena shakes her head. “How old are you to be acting so shameless? You’re at least seven years younger than Emris!?” “Luna, it’s not… it’s not mine.” “It smells like you. Filthy. My son, who is going to be Alpha, is the person you’re trying to seduce? You’re just like that maggot of a mother who gave birth to you! That b1tch spread her legs for every man in the pack just to climb the ladder, and you ended up following the worst of her traits—” Her hot hand snatches my hair! Then, Luna Derisha uses it to bring to my knees. It’s so painful, so utterly painful and shocking that I taste metal and then white light. I see a bunch of my hair in her hands and then I feel blood coming from my scalp. I look up in tears. “It’s not yours. Fine. We’ll test it, then. Bring her downstairs where all the pack employees look. I will use this b1tch as a lesson.” “Luna, please! Luna, please!” My screams are short as Radu’s massive hand closes around my ankle. He doesn’t even lift me; he just uses my own body to drag me across the floor. My uniform rides as I twist and kick, but it doesn’t matter. By the time we reach the hall downstairs, every pack employee is there. Cooks, cleaners, security, everyone is looking at me at the centre. I’m trembling on my knees. I’ve always feared Luna Derisha, but never like this. Never when Emris isn’t here to stop her. “I hope you’re all watching…” Elena says loudly. “This is what happens to anyone who thinks they can seduce the future Alpha. Your little colleague here hid her bra in his closet, and now she’s pretending it isn’t hers.” Luna Derisha tosses the fabric at my face. “If you say it’s not yours, prove it.” I am not able to stop shaking. “But Luna….” the head chef speaks up for me. “In front of everyone?” “Are you questioning me?” “Apologies, Luna! Apologies!” I crawl forward on my hands and knees in tears. I grab the hem of Luna Derisha’s designer dress. “Please. Forgive me. I’ll never do anything like this again. Please.” “Luna, I’m begging you. Pleaseee-“ “You should have thought of that before you tried to disgrace my family.” Luna Derisha looks at Radu and I hear his boots coming forward. I feel Radu’s hands on the back of my uniform and the fabric rips straight down my back. I scream, trying to cover myself. “Rip the bra, too so she can try this one.” Radu obeys. The straps of my own bra snap, and I sob, using my long white hair as a pathetic curtain to hide my body. Through the veil of my hair, I see some of the male employees turn their backs so they don’t watch. The girls just stare in horror. I am n@ked, on my knees, utterly broken. Through, my sobs, I hear the one sound that could make this worse. The sound of the Luna’s sons. Emris. Silver and Regan. I’m shivering, n@ked and exposed on my knees, when I look up and see them standing there. “What the hell is going on here!?” Emris yells, looking at me. Elena and Luna Derisha spin around. They hadn’t seen him come in. “Mom, what the hell.” Silver says. Regan, the other brother, just chuckles. “Isn’t she Emris’s pretty little housekeeper?” “No, she is her mother’s daughter!” Luna Derisha shrieks. “And I don’t care what you say today, I will punish her mercilessly! Put on the bra, now!” I squeeze my eyes shut. I will rather die right here than be humiliated any further. “Demetra!” I hear Paxton’s voice, and he’s already at my side. Before I can say anything, he uses his own chef’s coat as a wrap around my shoulders. “Paxton.” I shake my head. “She needs more cover!” He yells to anyone who’ll listen and for a second, I think he might fight them all. “Paxton!?” Susan, the head chef calls out to warn him but he doesn’t answer. Then I hear a rumbling growl from Radu. My eyes dart up just in time to see the massive Gamma take a step forward to make an example of Radu but Emris moves faster. He doesn’t go for Radu. He goes straight for Paxton, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and yanking him away from me. “The Luna gives an order and you bring yourself into the middle of it!” I can see it in Emris eyes. This isn’t just about the Luna’s command. This is all the jealousy he’s been holding for Paxton, finally finding a public excuse to explode. “Demetra would never try to seduce you! There has to be some mistake!” Paxton chokes in Emris’s grip. “We all know Demetra! She’s kind, she’s content, and she’s worked her entire life for this pack!” Emris’s eyes flash with a dark, wicked fire. “What are you… her little lover?” I watch, horrified, as his hand tightens around Paxton’s throat. Paxton’s face begins to turn a terrifying shade of purple. “Stop!” I yell. “If I were her lover, so what?” Paxton gasps. “Are we so little to you that we are not worth your love, too? If I were, what does it even matter to—” Emris hurls Paxton across the room into the bar cellar in an explosion of shattering glass and wood. The crowd screams, some scatter in fear, others rush to help him. I get up to see if he’s okay. But Emris has something to say to me. “Get out of my pack now!” The shout makes my whole wolf skitter and break in half. Chapter 5 “But you know I have only you.” I whisper. I need him to remember. I need him to remember that in this entire, cruel world, he’s the only one I have. “What the hell do you mean by that!?” Elena inserts herself. Emris eyes are empty. “You have ten minutes to leave the pack house. If she doesn’t, Radu makes sure she leaves with a claw mark as a souvenir.” Then he walks away. Susan is the first to reach me. “Come on, sweetheart, quickly!” When we reach my room, she lets go so I can pack. I pull on a shirt with trembling hands. My fingers fumble with the zipper of an old bag I drag out from the closet. My chest hurts; my throat burns. I’m shaking so badly it’s hard to fold anything right. I keep thinking: I’m pregnant. I’m pregnant, and I have nowhere to go. No one to call family. My mate, the only person I ever thought I had just destroyed me. With five minutes left before Radu comes, I can’t breathe. That’s when I see the business card Alpha Ronni gave me, lying at the corner of my mirror table. His name, his number. I grab it. When I step out, Summer, Susan, and the others are waiting in the hallway. One by one, they hug me quickly, whispering goodbyes. I don’t trust myself to speak so I just keep moving before I fall apart. Downstairs, Luna Derisha is waiting. Silver and Regan step aside to let me through. “Elena?” Luna says lightly, “just promise me that right after you and Emris are married, you’ll give me a grandchild.” Elena smiles. “Of course, Mother-in-law.” I press a trembling hand to my stomach and swallow the scream sitting in my throat. Emris, I swear you’ll never know that I left with a part of you. I leave the Black Covenant Pack house and I don’t look back. Outside the gate, I just carry my light bag and think. Do I call? Do I not? Alpha Ronni barely knows me. No one outside this territory even knows me. I check my wallet and there’s a few bucks at most. Luna Derisha always said food and a bed were my payment so I can’t even afford a motel. I need help. I take out my phone, type in the number on the card, and call. “Hello?” I try not to cry. “Yes… um, I’m Demetra.” I stammer into the phone. “We met — at the store. I was with Emris that day. You are Alpha Ronni—” There’s a pause, then a deep, surprised voice. “Yes, you. I can’t believe you’re calling. Are you all right?” “I…I’m sorry to bother you, Alpha. I just… I have nowhere else to go. That’s why I called.” Silence. I hear my own heartbeat. My mind starts racing and I think what am I doing? He’s an Alpha. I shouldn’t even be calling him. “Never mind. I shouldn’t be calling you. You’re—” “Where are you right now?” “I’m just outside the Black Covenant gates.” I look around me. “I’ll send an escort. A convoy of cars. You’ll be brought to safety at once. Don’t move. Do you understand me?” “Yes…yes Alpha.” The line goes dead, and I clutch the phone to my chest. I look down at my belly and make a promise that Emris will never get to know of my child. He will search for me but he will never find. This heart will never forgive him. This heart will never forgive everyone in the Black covenant pack. *** Five years later. West Virginia Airport. “Tired?” My dad, Alpha Ronin, wraps his hand around mine in the first-class seat. It’s warm. Six hours from Manila and my butt is sore. “I’m beyond tired.” I mumble through a yawn and glance sideways. “She’s still asleep?” Amira, my daughter is hugging Grandpa’s arms with her mouth slightly open after being a menace the entire flight. The air hostess approaches, politely informing us that the path is clear for us to leave the plane. I start gathering my laptop, my sketchbook, pens— “Mr. Pride, Miss. Pride, this way.” We don’t lift a finger. Not for the bags, not for anything. The moment our feet touch the ground, a black car is already waiting to take us straight from the plane One of the many, many perks of being the daughter of the Alpha of the Lion pack. It still feels a little like playing dress-up, like any minute someone’s going to tap me on the shoulder and say, “Okay, fun’s over. Back to being the Black covenant’s charity case.” Five years ago, I called the number on that business card, not knowing I was dialing my own future. Back then in that store, Alpha Ronin recognized me not because he knew me…but because he knew my mother. A one-night stand. A mistake. Or maybe fate being cruelly efficient. White hair is pretty rare for wolves. Most people bleach or dye it, trying to look cool or intimidating. So it’s hard to spot a true one in the wild. But Alpha Ronin said he saw her in my face and the shape of my eyes. He had to be sure if I was his. When I called him, a fleet of cars arrived like and I was taken to the Lion Pack estate. They didn’t treat me like a stray. They treated me like a person. Like family, even before we knew for sure. That was when I met Slade. My half-brother. Then Alpha Ronin said my mother’s name and suddenly, everything clicked. The Black Covenant Pack had told me the history of my mother and since Alpha Ronin claimed he had a one-night stand with her, I agreed for a DNA test. It proved that Alpha Ronin was my father. All that time, I’d been an Alpha’s daughter, living on my knees. All those years I spent surviving as a charity case, I was the daughter of an Alpha. I nursed my broken heart for a year straight. Some days it nearly kills me but I survived because I wasn’t not alone. Then I give birth to Amira. And somehow, I break all over again. She has Emris’ hair. His eyebrows. His face hiding in hers so clearly it hurts to look at her for too long. Every time I hold her, the truth settles deeper into my bones that she is going to grow up without knowing her father. He doesn’t know she exists. And even if he did… I’m not sure he would care. That thought almost destroyed me. But Amira also saves me. I find strength in her tiny hands, in the way she curls against my chest like I’m her entire world. My dad notices the way I’m fading so he makes the decision for me when I’m too weak to make it myself. I need to leave the country so I choose Paris without really thinking. It sounds far away enough. I don’t realize what it will become until I’m standing inside the most beautiful house I’ve ever seen…flowers everywhere, gardens and that’s where I begin to paint. I paint my pain. I paint my past. I paint my heartbreak. I put every ounce of "him" and every ounce of onto those canvases. I shut out the entire world, focused only on my little girl and the colors on my palette. I started going to art school, not to find myself, but to prove I could. And then I sold my first piece. The first bidder wanted it for hundreds of millions. Just like that, I wasn't just Demetra. I was Demetra Pride, the millionaire artist who came out of nowhere. That sale did something more than fill my bank account. It gave me a new bone structure, one made of confidence. I believed I could do anything. In Paris, dad retires from leading the pack just to be with me and his granddaughter. For a while, it’s just us but now… after five years, we are back. We’ve returned to support Slade as he fully takes the reins of the pack. And Dad… he says it’s my duty, too. To help run it alongside my brother. He doesn’t want Amira growing up away from her entire family, from her legacy. I’m ready. I no longer nurse a broken heart. I have nothing to run from anymore. When we arrive at the pack house, everyone is already waiting. Dad squeezes my hand as we walk toward the entrance. "Ready, cub?" That’s his nickname for me. I squeeze back. "Born ready."

I am Demetra, the girl whose mother slept with every gamma, beta, and zeta…trying to climb her way up, only to crash-land at the very bottom and leave me here to clean up her mess in the Black Covenant Pack. As the lowest-ranking omega in the pack house, my glorious destiny is to personally serve one of three sons of Alpha Kael. Emris. Emris. Emris. Emris. My world is the four walls of his penthouse bedroom. I’m the ghost who takes his designer clothes to the laundry. I scrub his desk. I pick up the condoms after he’s done with whatever girl he drags home from the club. I’m the one who patches up the cuts and bruises from fights he doesn’t want his parents to know about, dabbing at his knuckles while he stares straight through me. I even cut his hair when it gets too long cause he hates when it brushes his shoulders. And when his famous temper explodes, shattering a lamp or hurling it against the wall, I’m the one on my knees, picking up the pieces. Always on my knees. Because Emris runs on a fuel of rage. However, the day I turned eighteen, a mate bond snapped between us during one of my cleaning routines. Me, a nobody, became mated to the first son of the Alpha. The one everyone whispers will inherit everything, because while all two of brothers are hybrids, Emris is the strongest…he is a Trybrid werewolf. Emris, who has never looked at me twice, suddenly couldn’t stand for me to be out of his sight. Yet, despite his new possessiveness. He warned me never to tell a soul that we were mates. Afterall, I’m an orphaned omega, a high-school dropout because the pack’s "charity" didn't cover an actual education. My father isn’t some politician or business mogul; he’s probably one of the countless faceless men my mother entertained. I am the pack’s pity project, the girl they “saved,” and my lifelong repayment has been to scrub their floors and make their beds. He was ashamed of me. The first time Emris ever truly looked at me was the day the mate bond snapped into place. I remember how his uncovered eye, stared down at me while the other was hidden under the usual black patch. The next time I saw him without that black patch, it revealed his serpent-lined colored eyes as he took my virginity in his bed. And I love him. Goddess, I love him with my entire soul, a stupid, desperate love that lives in the deepest, most secret part of my heart. I loved him when he made me his dirty secret. I loved him through his coldness and the countless ways he shattered my heart, only to gather the pieces and hand them back to him all over again. I am the one who watches him sleep. I am the one rocked him back to reality when he woke up from the nightmares of the two years he spent as a kid, locked in an enemy’s pack dungeon. He was broken, far from perfect, but he was everything to me. “Where you going?” His rough voice makes me stop buttoning my stupid house help uniform. I see my reflection in his floor-length mirror, my doll like white hair is all ruffled from where he fisted his hands in it, arching me against me just minutes ago. “It’s almost time for breakfast.” I look around his bedroom for my bra. “Shit.” Emris runs a hand down his face. I see the forgotten cup of water on his nightstand. The one I brought him last night before he pulled me into his bed and made me forget my own name. “This what you’re looking for?” I see my light blue bra dangling from his finger. I march over and reach for it, but he lifts his hand higher. “I’m already late. Give it.” I hold my palm out and try to sound firm. He pushes his dark hair back and sits up. The sheets pools around his nak3d waist. I can’t help the quick swallow in my throat as I take in the hard planes of his ab muscles or his calloused hands that held my waist so tightly I couldn’t escape a thrvst. “Did I say you could leave yet?” Emris’ voice is deceptively soft. “Keep it, then.” I frown and walk out. I can’t do this with him today. I hear his low chuckle behind me. “I don’t like your saltiness. Or is it moodiness? I don’t like your jealousy, either. I have so much to do today, the last thing I want is that attitude from you.” I do my best not to turn around and look at him. He knows exactly why I’m upset. The whole pack knows. The Alpha of the Mud Claw Pack’s daughter, Elena. Emris’s ex-girlfriend has just moved into the pack house. Luna Derisha is already parading her around, calling her his future Luna. And I’m here. His actual, true mate. His dirty little secret. “Demetra?” His tone shifts. It’s becoming a warning. “Don’t let me have to call you a second time!” When I turn, he’s out of bed in a loose pair of pants, walking towards the balcony where I’m standing at. “You know why I’m upset.” Emris rips off his black eye patch and tosses it aside. He usually covers that eye because his wolf gets agitated, and when it does, he can’t control the change. His left eye burns with a ring of gold, the pupil a terrifying thin slit. It scares people. But then, everything about Emris is designed to be scary. I’m just the idiot who’s in love with him, so I see past it. “You’re acting like I slept with Elena this morning!” “Wow.” I let out a scoff that’s designed to hide the hot press of tears in my throat. “So, you want to sleep with her? You can’t wait to have your ex-girlfriend back in your bed?” “Stop it. Her father is an Alpha. My mom is just securing my claim to the Alpha seat. It’s not personal—” “We are mates!” I yell and I’ve never yelled at him before. “You’re an omega.” Emris says it like it’s a disease. “That’s weak for a Trybrid like me. That’s a liability for the Alpha I’m becoming!” “You sleep with me! You claim me almost every night! But now, suddenly, I’m too weak for you because the Alpha seat is up for grabs?” In a second, he’s right in front of me. I watch the pupil in his left eye, “the serpent-like one” dilates. “Don’t you ever disrespect me. I paid for your high school. I offered to pay for college, but you were too proud to take it. I bought you a car you never drove! I give you a roof, my protection, and this is how you thank me?” Emris pulls me and I land against his bare chest, face inches from his. There, I force myself to go still so I won’t anger the beast further. I didn’t accept his gifts because I was sick of feeling like his charity case, a bill he had to pay for the mate he never wanted. “Once I'm Alpha, my pups will be in your belly. You'll... be under my protection for life." He roughs a brand across my waist before palming my back side. There comes the famous grab as he does a little tap-tap-tap taps with ownership. Usually, it would make me blush but this time, I just look at him with tears. However, Emris doesn’t see tears. He’s cold-blooded, and the worst part is, he’s proud of it. “As what?” I look up at him from what feels like a million miles below. The one thing I want is for him to claim me as his mate. To look at me and see his equal, his other half, not a constant reminder of how we’re opposites. Emris just stares back. Of course, he’s going to pretend he doesn’t understand what I’m asking. He’s an expert at that. “Change that jealous look on your face before I see you again.” I push his hand away from my waist and instantly feel cold. I walk out of his bedroom. The moment I step into the moving area of the pack house, I nearly collide with the head chef, whose face is twisted into a scowl that could curdle milk. “Where have you been?!” “I, uh… I woke up late.” I quickly answer. My job is only to maintain Emris’s private penthouse, so I have no idea why she’s so furious with me. “We’re short-staffed. Go help Miss Elena take her bags to her room.” Susan points and my stomach plummets. There she is. Elena Orient. Emris’ ex-girlfriend. Chapter 2 Elena was a part-time cheerleading trainer at Magnus High for a year. It’s the high school I was able to attend because of Emris’s “charity.” She’s at least four years older than me, and she was that impossibly cool adult all the younger girls, including me, desperately wanted to be. The boys were all secretly in love with her. She had perfect, bouncy blonde waves. Back when I was a gawky, puberty-stricken freshman, I’d daydream about looking like her one day. So yeah, I’m jealous. Elena Orient comes from a rich family, a powerful pack, and everyone adores her. She’s everything I’m not. I remember the first time she saw Emris. It was Guardians’ Day. I didn't have anyone to come for me, but he showed up. He was there for his sister, Teddy but I’ll never forget the way everyone stared as he walked straight up to me in the crowded hallway. The next day, Elena actually sought me out to ask me who he was. It was the first time our cheer instructor had ever spoken directly to me. I gave her his name, never imagining that simple answer would lead to them dating. Back then, I didn't care. I wasn't eighteen; the mate bond was silent, and Emris's life was his own. Now, everything is different. "Morning.” I say. Elena finally looks up from her phone. Even at 7 a.m., her blonde hair is bouncy and shiny. Makeup. She’s dressed in designer clothes plus perfumes. She’s obviously hoping to run into Emris, but he’s probably in the middle of his brutal gym session, followed by a wild run through the woods. He won't be back for at least an hour. "OMG! Demetra, right?" "Yeah. I should take your bags up—" I reach for one of the bold pink suitcases, but when I try to lift it, it doesn't even budge. "Did Emris send you to help me?" What does she think I am, his personal messenger? "Does he know I'm here already?" "No, Miss Elena." I reposition myself to wrestle with the luggage again. "Where is he? Still sleeping? Is he awake?" I give the stubborn bag a hard yank. "Can you give me an answer!?" There comes her irritation. I’d almost forgotten that behind that smile, she wears a lot of masks and her true personality is just plain evil. "I'm not sure, Miss Elena—" "Then, what use are you?" I pull the bag with all my might, and this time, it sends me backward. I lose my balance and crash to the floor just as Luna Derisha walks in with another guest. Oh no. “Elena, why are your luggage not taken yet!?” Luna Derisha’s asks. I get up quickly. “This weak omega—” Luna Derisha’s eyes narrow on me but she forces a smile for the guest. Elena’s mother, who’s watching the entire scene. “I’m sorry, Luna.” I step back. I know better than to be within arm’s reach when she’s like this; her slaps are swift. “Wow, her hair is so beautiful. She is such a beautiful young woman.” I see the muscle in Luna Derisha’s jaw twitch as the woman complements me. She hates any reminder of my mother, and my looks are the biggest reminder of all. Thankfully, Luna Derisha’s drivers come in and effortlessly haul the luggage away. “Luna, the tables are ready.” the head housekeeper announces. The moment they’re out of earshot, Luna Derisha turns on me. “I don’t even know your use in this house. All you do is fatten yourself on our food, yet your strength stays the same.” I stare at the ground. It’s better not to look at her. “Because of us, the sickly thing your mother gave birth to is growing. Your cream-white hair is getting longer. Your uniform is getting tighter on your body. Your hips are fattening like a wh0re’s, your…” She shakes her head in disgust. “It’s those same things your mother used to attract the lowest of the lows. Tell me, are you heading down the same path?” “No, Luna.” I answer quickly. “Get out of my sight! And did I not ask you to dye that hair black?” Someone calls Luna Derisha so her attention finally goes away from me. The moment she looks away. I feel a violent surge in my throat and I throw my hand against it. I don’t know if it’s the humiliation, the stress of the morning, or something else entirely, but I don’t wait to find out. I turn and run across the marble floors until I burst into the empty staff bathroom. I barely make it to the stall before my insides seem to rupture. I vomit and vomit and vomit until my stomach is empty. Tears are streaming down my face as I stare at myself in the mirror. Why am I vomiting? Is it the oats I ate last night? And then my brain decides to gives me an answer. Hey, remember that little monthly thing that ghosted you last month? Oh no. Oh, Moon Goddess… am I pregnant? Pregnant with Emris’ child? *** I change out of my uniform, into a pair of jeans and a top. I need a pregnancy test. Now. I've been sitting in front of the desk for the past three hours, trying to count days on a calendar, but it's useless. The problem is Emris. Our schedule last month was basically, all s3x. In his room, in mine, sometimes in a skyscraper hotel suite when his late-night meetings with the jet company ran long. Today is the 20th. No sign of my period. That can only mean one thing. We used protection… sometimes. When he remembered. Emris gets so lost in the claiming in a way that makes it impossible for either of us to think straight. I go out through the back kitchen, hoping to go unnoticed. "Where are you going?" Summer, my best friend blocks my path and shoves her hands into her flour-dusted apron, looking less like my ride-or-die and more like a very suspicious, pastry-based bouncer. "Luna Derisha is on a warpath today. So lucky you only answer to Emris. What's going on with you?" "Uh, I just have to run an errand—" "Ugh, don't even get me started. That Elena is such a snob. She brought thirty boxes of Louboutin, Chanel and had the nerve to ask if we'd ever touched anything like that. Please tell me a b1tch like that isn't going to be our next Luna." "Summer, if anyone hears you, you're going to lose your job." Paxton warns, he’s the assistant chef. "She's not wrong. Riley is arranging Elena’s closet right now. There are, like, a hundred pairs." Someone else says. "Guys, I really have to go." I try to sidestep them. But Paxton places a hand around my stomach region to stop me. He's always been overly concerned about me. "Are you okay? You look a bit…pale." Before I can answer, my eyes do a casual sweep past his shoulder to the kitchen's large glass windows. And I freeze. Emris is there, a million-foot tall on the gravel, making a phone call in his stuntman stature. He’s staring straight at us. Specifically, at Paxton’s hand, which is currently resting on the exact location of his potential future heir. For his own safety, and to prevent a murder in the parking lot, I crank up a smile. "I'm fine, Pax! Really. Just a quick trip into town. I’ll be back soon.” I hurry out to the gardens but a text lights up my phone from Emris. Just one word: Garage. I knew he wouldn’t let what he saw slide. His private garage is dim and it’s the first time we'd met here. The car Emris is in is a black Bentley that cost more than my life. With blue interior lights that make him a villain of a sci-fi movie. Emris unfolds himself from the seat. “You’re gonna use that nobody to make me jealous!” He has the most devastatingly handsome face I’ve ever seen. Skin like rich gold, messy black hair that looks better the more he runs his hands through it. He’s taller and stronger than any man I’ve ever known. I’ve felt the raw power in his thighs when they move under me, I’ve listened to the steady beat of his heart against my chest. It’s the universe’s cruellest joke that a voice so rough and harsh comes attached to a mouth that gives the softest kisses. “That’s not what I was doing.” “What was he about to touch?” “Emris, Paxton is just my friend. I’ve told you this over and over… he’s just looking out for me.” He rises to his full, ridiculous height. A skyscraper of a jealous Alpha he will soon become. I am forced to step back until I bump into another of his cars. He’s jealous. And when he’s jealous, he’s less a man and more a walking, talking grenade with the pin already pulled. “Looking out for you?” He tilts his neck in that specific way he does, a gesture that shows the tattoos on his throat and across his collarbones. I know they travel all the way down to his waist. I’ve traced them with my fingers before. “Because I don’t do enough looking out for you already!?” “Someone could see us. I should go—” “Get in.” I just stare at him in surprise. Emris has never, ever let me in the same car as him before, especially not while we're on pack grounds. This is breaking like twelve of his own rules. “If someone sees—” He drags me to the passenger side and pushes me in. Chapter 3 A moment later, he’s driving us smoothly away from the pack house, and I melt into the leather chair. “Where?” “Huh?” Emris hisses. “Where are you going? Don’t piss me off, Demetra.” “The, um… to the store.” “What could you possibly want from the store that you cannot get at the pack house!?” “Some hygiene products.” I squeakily lie. “And a new bra.” When we get to the shopping mall, his phone rings. Thank god, a distraction. He throws a black credit card at me without even looking, and I take it. I only accept because refusing would be a whole thing and I need him to be distracted. I go straight to the pharmacy section. My hands are literally shaking as I grab the test. I pay with my own cash and buy two, just to be sure. I also snag a random, overpriced bra I don’t need as my decoy. I lock myself in a bathroom stall and after ten minutes, my eyes instantly water when both tests show the result. Two pink lines. Two. I stare at myself in the mirror over the sink, looking again and again and again, as if my reflection will have a different answer. I’m pregnant. I’m pregnant with Emris’s child. I wipe the tears away, only for more to fall. It’s positive. Both tests are undeniably, life-falteringly positive. I stumble out of the stall and mumble an apology to the annoyed women waiting in line. I rush to the counter to pay for the bra, hastily wiping my cheeks and glancing out the mall to see if Emris is still in the car. My hands are shaking so badly I fumble the card, dropping it twice. As I turn from the counter, I bump hard into an older man and it sends my shopping bag and Emris's black credit card to the floor. "I'm so sorry!" I get to my knees to gather my things. The man bends down too and picks up the card. "Here you go—" "Thanks. I am so sorry, sir!" I repeat until he doesn't let go. I look up and see him staring at me with an expression of shock, so intense that the card in his hand actually trembles. "Sir…?" I try to pull it back. "What is your name?" he asks. "You look familiar. What pack are you from?" "Sir, please. I'm in a hurry." I finally manage to tug the card from his fingers but the encounter is far from over. "Alpha?" I look up to see a guy who must be a million inches tall, built like a valley, standing behind the older man. Did he just call him... Alpha? The older man ignores his guard or is it his Beta to continue staring at me. "You have white hair. You….you have white hair.” Why’s he looking at me like he's seen a ghost. Yes, I have white hair and so? My mind is reeling from the pregnancy tests, and now this? Will Emris accept the pregnancy? Will Emris be happy when I tell him? Will Luna Derisha kill me when she finds out I’ve been sleeping with her son? The future heir of the pack. The Beta speaks. "Alpha, you don't think she is—" “Please, have my business card.” The older man presses an embossed card into my hand but I don’t take it. “Sir, I don’t understand what you are saying or doing—” “I am searching for my daughter. She has white hair, just like…” “I am not your daughter!” A father is the last thing I have or need on this earth. “Dad?” Another young man, handsome and well-dressed, walks up, addressing the older man. The moment his eyes land on me, his jaw goes slack. While I’m distracted by the son’s stunned reaction, the older man quickly slips his business card into the palm of my hand and closes my fingers around it. And at that exact moment, Emris enters. One look at his eyes and I know I’m in deep, deep trouble. “You.” Emris voice makes everyone look in our direction. I rush to the side of the living temptress I call my mate, thinking he’s furious with me, but his eyes are on the group of men. “Emris, son of Alpha Kael.” the older man says. “I haven't seen you since your father’s death—” “Don’t start with me, old foolish man!” My mate hisses. The son of the older man comes close. “It’s me you hate, Emris. Leave my father out of it. After all, only one of us still has a father left.” The male insults the devastating storm that is my Alpha and walks out the door. The older man follows, and the hefty Beta is the last to exit. “Everyone. Leave.” Emris’s voice isn’t loud, but the store employees and customers run for the exits. Including the owner of the establishment. I don’t think there’s a soul in West Virginia who doesn’t know who Emris is, or the danger that radiates from him. As soon as everyone leaves, I start to explain. “I’m sorry I took so long. My… my stuff fell and—” “First, you throw that puppy, Paxton, in my face. And now I find you cozying up to that dying old man Ronin and his waste-of-space son, Slade. Are you seriously this desperate for attention, or just profoundly stupid?” My eyes widen in genuine shock. That was Slade? The rival Alpha Emris has hated since they were boys? The one from the Lion Pride pack? “I swear, Emris, I didn’t know—” I don’t get to finish when kicks a nearby display, sending a whole aisle of canned goods to the floor. “Why are you doing this!?” I clamp my hands over my ears. “Why am I doing this!?” He kicks another shelf which topples like dominoes, scattering products everywhere before he storms back to me. “I saw him slip you his card. What’s your price, Demetra? Huh? Was my bed not enough of a platform for you to audition for your next role? Are you planning to be Slade’s new step-mom or Slade’s little wh0re? After acting so damn pure with me, refusing the things I try to give you… you come here to meet with Slade? To become his wh0re, just like you are to me?” Emris’ words don’t just hurt. They dissolve me. The heat behind my eyes instantly melts into tears that stream down my face. “W-wh0re? You are the only person I have ever been with!” “Then what do you call a person who is available for me to use morning and night? A convenience. You clean up my messes and warm my bed. I didn't call you anything you haven't proven yourself to be. Now, take whatever pathetic offer that old man gave you and get the hell out of my life forever.” Emris turns to leave but I run after him, furious tears blinding me as I throw my arms around his back like an idiot. “How can you call me that!?” I weep on his shirt. Emris pries my hands off with cold strength. “I saw it with my own eyes. I saw the interaction—” “I tried so hard! I refused your gifts, your money… I did everything I could so you would never, ever look at me that way! But at the end of the day, this is what you think of me? You have no heart, Emris. You are dark. You are…” I gasp for air as the insult dies on my tongue. “I am Alpha! My father is dead and I will be Alpha soon. If you’re still in my territory when I formalize my title, I will personally escort you down the Walk of Judgment. I’ll make sure the entire pack knows exactly what you are.” The Walk of Judgment is a nightmare. A walk of shame where the pack forces you out while throwing filth at you, sometimes tearing the clothes from your back. It’s the ultimate disgrace before being cast out to become a rogue. And he just threatened me with it. I force Emris to face me again. “It’s me, Demetra! Why are you acting this way? It was a misunderstanding! I didn’t know that was Slade! I didn’t know who they were!” “And he gave you a card. You might be naive enough to believe that was a coincidence, but I’m not, Demetra. So much for loyalty. How long has this been going on? How long have you been spreading your legs for Slade? Or is the old man getting a turn, too?” Emris insults are too much so I slap him! His head snaps to the side. Once I do that, there is only the sound of his breathing. His chest begins to rise, and rise, and rise so I move away. “We’re done.” Emris storms out. I watch through the glassed door as he speaks to the mall owner before getting into his car and speeding away, leaving me in the wreckage. Chapter 4 Slowly, I sink to my knees and weep from my lungs so deep it feels like it will break me. I am inconsolable, lost in a storm of tears when a timid voice speaks. “Miss? The… the man said you are the one to clean up the mess he made.” I look up at the mall owner and I frown into tears. How can we be over when I carry a new life, a part of him, inside my belly? I get back to the pack house a little past midnight. My body aches everywhere…. like even my bones are tired. I don’t bother turning on the light; I just crawl into bed and start crying all over again. The kind of crying that makes your throat hurt. Slade. Of all people, it had to be him. Emris hates Slade more than he hates any other enemy. He’s the son of Alpha Ronni from the Lion Pride Pack. The Lion Pride Pack and the Black Covenant share a territory….joined by waters, separated by Alphas. They’re rich, powerful but Emris would rather die than be in the same room as them. I didn’t even recognize them! The older man just… he thought I was someone else. My phone glows in the dark: 2:17 AM. A part of me still wants to go to him, to tell him again that this is a mistake. Maybe if he just listens one more time, he’ll see it. Why does loving him make me feel like such an idiot? I know deep down he doesn’t deserve it. He doesn’t deserve me. And yet… I still do. When I finally wake up, it’s because someone’s tapping my arm. “Demetra!” It’s the head chef’s voice. “Goodness, child, I thought you were dead for a second. Do you realize you’ve slept two hours past your shift? Emris’ suite—” Once I see it’s morning, I leap out of bed and dash into the bathroom. I’m so dead. I’m supposed to clean Emris’s room before he gets back from the gym. If even one of his stupid, expensive things is out of place, he throws a fit. Then he’s late for breakfast, and the whole pack knows it’s my fault. I shower and throw on my uniform then take the elevator straight up to the penthouse level. I start planning my apology in my head as I move into Emris’ floor. Suddenly, I stop because standing right in the middle of the living room are Elena and Luna Derisha. And Luna Derisha is holding something lacy and blue between her fingers. My bra. It’s the one Emris took yesterday. The one I told him, over and over, to give back. I forget how to breathe but I have to say something. “Lu… Luna.” Luna Derisha’s violet eyes look almost black. “Who owns this?” I rub my hands on my apron like that’ll make me look less guilty. “Um… I don’t know.” I lie. The door behind me swings open and Radu fills the threshold like a dark mountain. He is the Luna’s gamma, the wolf everyone hushes for in the halls. He’s the one who rescued Emris after he was kidnapped and caged for two years as a kid. Radu doesn’t waste words, he only growls and moves when the Luna says so. Seeing him here means this isn’t just a scolding; it’s an execution. “You fucking slut! You’re trying to seduce my son. You put your bra in my son’s closet.” Elena shakes her head. “How old are you to be acting so shameless? You’re at least seven years younger than Emris!?” “Luna, it’s not… it’s not mine.” “It smells like you. Filthy. My son, who is going to be Alpha, is the person you’re trying to seduce? You’re just like that maggot of a mother who gave birth to you! That b1tch spread her legs for every man in the pack just to climb the ladder, and you ended up following the worst of her traits—” Her hot hand snatches my hair! Then, Luna Derisha uses it to bring to my knees. It’s so painful, so utterly painful and shocking that I taste metal and then white light. I see a bunch of my hair in her hands and then I feel blood coming from my scalp. I look up in tears. “It’s not yours. Fine. We’ll test it, then. Bring her downstairs where all the pack employees look. I will use this b1tch as a lesson.” “Luna, please! Luna, please!” My screams are short as Radu’s massive hand closes around my ankle. He doesn’t even lift me; he just uses my own body to drag me across the floor. My uniform rides as I twist and kick, but it doesn’t matter. By the time we reach the hall downstairs, every pack employee is there. Cooks, cleaners, security, everyone is looking at me at the centre. I’m trembling on my knees. I’ve always feared Luna Derisha, but never like this. Never when Emris isn’t here to stop her. “I hope you’re all watching…” Elena says loudly. “This is what happens to anyone who thinks they can seduce the future Alpha. Your little colleague here hid her bra in his closet, and now she’s pretending it isn’t hers.” Luna Derisha tosses the fabric at my face. “If you say it’s not yours, prove it.” I am not able to stop shaking. “But Luna….” the head chef speaks up for me. “In front of everyone?” “Are you questioning me?” “Apologies, Luna! Apologies!” I crawl forward on my hands and knees in tears. I grab the hem of Luna Derisha’s designer dress. “Please. Forgive me. I’ll never do anything like this again. Please.” “Luna, I’m begging you. Pleaseee-“ “You should have thought of that before you tried to disgrace my family.” Luna Derisha looks at Radu and I hear his boots coming forward. I feel Radu’s hands on the back of my uniform and the fabric rips straight down my back. I scream, trying to cover myself. “Rip the bra, too so she can try this one.” Radu obeys. The straps of my own bra snap, and I sob, using my long white hair as a pathetic curtain to hide my body. Through the veil of my hair, I see some of the male employees turn their backs so they don’t watch. The girls just stare in horror. I am n@ked, on my knees, utterly broken. Through, my sobs, I hear the one sound that could make this worse. The sound of the Luna’s sons. Emris. Silver and Regan. I’m shivering, n@ked and exposed on my knees, when I look up and see them standing there. “What the hell is going on here!?” Emris yells, looking at me. Elena and Luna Derisha spin around. They hadn’t seen him come in. “Mom, what the hell.” Silver says. Regan, the other brother, just chuckles. “Isn’t she Emris’s pretty little housekeeper?” “No, she is her mother’s daughter!” Luna Derisha shrieks. “And I don’t care what you say today, I will punish her mercilessly! Put on the bra, now!” I squeeze my eyes shut. I will rather die right here than be humiliated any further. “Demetra!” I hear Paxton’s voice, and he’s already at my side. Before I can say anything, he uses his own chef’s coat as a wrap around my shoulders. “Paxton.” I shake my head. “She needs more cover!” He yells to anyone who’ll listen and for a second, I think he might fight them all. “Paxton!?” Susan, the head chef calls out to warn him but he doesn’t answer. Then I hear a rumbling growl from Radu. My eyes dart up just in time to see the massive Gamma take a step forward to make an example of Radu but Emris moves faster. He doesn’t go for Radu. He goes straight for Paxton, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and yanking him away from me. “The Luna gives an order and you bring yourself into the middle of it!” I can see it in Emris eyes. This isn’t just about the Luna’s command. This is all the jealousy he’s been holding for Paxton, finally finding a public excuse to explode. “Demetra would never try to seduce you! There has to be some mistake!” Paxton chokes in Emris’s grip. “We all know Demetra! She’s kind, she’s content, and she’s worked her entire life for this pack!” Emris’s eyes flash with a dark, wicked fire. “What are you… her little lover?” I watch, horrified, as his hand tightens around Paxton’s throat. Paxton’s face begins to turn a terrifying shade of purple. “Stop!” I yell. “If I were her lover, so what?” Paxton gasps. “Are we so little to you that we are not worth your love, too? If I were, what does it even matter to—” Emris hurls Paxton across the room into the bar cellar in an explosion of shattering glass and wood. The crowd screams, some scatter in fear, others rush to help him. I get up to see if he’s okay. But Emris has something to say to me. “Get out of my pack now!” The shout makes my whole wolf skitter and break in half. Chapter 5 “But you know I have only you.” I whisper. I need him to remember. I need him to remember that in this entire, cruel world, he’s the only one I have. “What the hell do you mean by that!?” Elena inserts herself. Emris eyes are empty. “You have ten minutes to leave the pack house. If she doesn’t, Radu makes sure she leaves with a claw mark as a souvenir.” Then he walks away. Susan is the first to reach me. “Come on, sweetheart, quickly!” When we reach my room, she lets go so I can pack. I pull on a shirt with trembling hands. My fingers fumble with the zipper of an old bag I drag out from the closet. My chest hurts; my throat burns. I’m shaking so badly it’s hard to fold anything right. I keep thinking: I’m pregnant. I’m pregnant, and I have nowhere to go. No one to call family. My mate, the only person I ever thought I had just destroyed me. With five minutes left before Radu comes, I can’t breathe. That’s when I see the business card Alpha Ronni gave me, lying at the corner of my mirror table. His name, his number. I grab it. When I step out, Summer, Susan, and the others are waiting in the hallway. One by one, they hug me quickly, whispering goodbyes. I don’t trust myself to speak so I just keep moving before I fall apart. Downstairs, Luna Derisha is waiting. Silver and Regan step aside to let me through. “Elena?” Luna says lightly, “just promise me that right after you and Emris are married, you’ll give me a grandchild.” Elena smiles. “Of course, Mother-in-law.” I press a trembling hand to my stomach and swallow the scream sitting in my throat. Emris, I swear you’ll never know that I left with a part of you. I leave the Black Covenant Pack house and I don’t look back. Outside the gate, I just carry my light bag and think. Do I call? Do I not? Alpha Ronni barely knows me. No one outside this territory even knows me. I check my wallet and there’s a few bucks at most. Luna Derisha always said food and a bed were my payment so I can’t even afford a motel. I need help. I take out my phone, type in the number on the card, and call. “Hello?” I try not to cry. “Yes… um, I’m Demetra.” I stammer into the phone. “We met — at the store. I was with Emris that day. You are Alpha Ronni—” There’s a pause, then a deep, surprised voice. “Yes, you. I can’t believe you’re calling. Are you all right?” “I…I’m sorry to bother you, Alpha. I just… I have nowhere else to go. That’s why I called.” Silence. I hear my own heartbeat. My mind starts racing and I think what am I doing? He’s an Alpha. I shouldn’t even be calling him. “Never mind. I shouldn’t be calling you. You’re—” “Where are you right now?” “I’m just outside the Black Covenant gates.” I look around me. “I’ll send an escort. A convoy of cars. You’ll be brought to safety at once. Don’t move. Do you understand me?” “Yes…yes Alpha.” The line goes dead, and I clutch the phone to my chest. I look down at my belly and make a promise that Emris will never get to know of my child. He will search for me but he will never find. This heart will never forgive him. This heart will never forgive everyone in the Black covenant pack. *** Five years later. West Virginia Airport. “Tired?” My dad, Alpha Ronin, wraps his hand around mine in the first-class seat. It’s warm. Six hours from Manila and my butt is sore. “I’m beyond tired.” I mumble through a yawn and glance sideways. “She’s still asleep?” Amira, my daughter is hugging Grandpa’s arms with her mouth slightly open after being a menace the entire flight. The air hostess approaches, politely informing us that the path is clear for us to leave the plane. I start gathering my laptop, my sketchbook, pens— “Mr. Pride, Miss. Pride, this way.” We don’t lift a finger. Not for the bags, not for anything. The moment our feet touch the ground, a black car is already waiting to take us straight from the plane One of the many, many perks of being the daughter of the Alpha of the Lion pack. It still feels a little like playing dress-up, like any minute someone’s going to tap me on the shoulder and say, “Okay, fun’s over. Back to being the Black covenant’s charity case.” Five years ago, I called the number on that business card, not knowing I was dialing my own future. Back then in that store, Alpha Ronin recognized me not because he knew me…but because he knew my mother. A one-night stand. A mistake. Or maybe fate being cruelly efficient. White hair is pretty rare for wolves. Most people bleach or dye it, trying to look cool or intimidating. So it’s hard to spot a true one in the wild. But Alpha Ronin said he saw her in my face and the shape of my eyes. He had to be sure if I was his. When I called him, a fleet of cars arrived like and I was taken to the Lion Pack estate. They didn’t treat me like a stray. They treated me like a person. Like family, even before we knew for sure. That was when I met Slade. My half-brother. Then Alpha Ronin said my mother’s name and suddenly, everything clicked. The Black Covenant Pack had told me the history of my mother and since Alpha Ronin claimed he had a one-night stand with her, I agreed for a DNA test. It proved that Alpha Ronin was my father. All that time, I’d been an Alpha’s daughter, living on my knees. All those years I spent surviving as a charity case, I was the daughter of an Alpha. I nursed my broken heart for a year straight. Some days it nearly kills me but I survived because I wasn’t not alone. Then I give birth to Amira. And somehow, I break all over again. She has Emris’ hair. His eyebrows. His face hiding in hers so clearly it hurts to look at her for too long. Every time I hold her, the truth settles deeper into my bones that she is going to grow up without knowing her father. He doesn’t know she exists. And even if he did… I’m not sure he would care. That thought almost destroyed me. But Amira also saves me. I find strength in her tiny hands, in the way she curls against my chest like I’m her entire world. My dad notices the way I’m fading so he makes the decision for me when I’m too weak to make it myself. I need to leave the country so I choose Paris without really thinking. It sounds far away enough. I don’t realize what it will become until I’m standing inside the most beautiful house I’ve ever seen…flowers everywhere, gardens and that’s where I begin to paint. I paint my pain. I paint my past. I paint my heartbreak. I put every ounce of "him" and every ounce of onto those canvases. I shut out the entire world, focused only on my little girl and the colors on my palette. I started going to art school, not to find myself, but to prove I could. And then I sold my first piece. The first bidder wanted it for hundreds of millions. Just like that, I wasn't just Demetra. I was Demetra Pride, the millionaire artist who came out of nowhere. That sale did something more than fill my bank account. It gave me a new bone structure, one made of confidence. I believed I could do anything. In Paris, dad retires from leading the pack just to be with me and his granddaughter. For a while, it’s just us but now… after five years, we are back. We’ve returned to support Slade as he fully takes the reins of the pack. And Dad… he says it’s my duty, too. To help run it alongside my brother. He doesn’t want Amira growing up away from her entire family, from her legacy. I’m ready. I no longer nurse a broken heart. I have nothing to run from anymore. When we arrive at the pack house, everyone is already waiting. Dad squeezes my hand as we walk toward the entrance. "Ready, cub?" That’s his nickname for me. I squeeze back. "Born ready."

My husband divorced me for his mistress, and my children chose her over me. On the brink of suic/de, I'm saved by my childhood friend Alex, now a billionaire. He asks, "Do you want revenge?" The ballroom sparkled with golden lights. Lucia stood near the entrance in her blue dress, the one she bought just for tonight. She kept touching her necklace. The silver one. Marco gave it to her on their first date. People smiled. Friends. Family. Neighbors. They said congratulations. They said everything looked beautiful. She planned it all. Every flower. Every candle. Every tiny detail. "Mrs. Hart, you look so happy," someone said. She was happy. She thought she was. The door opened. Marco walked in with a woman. Young. Maybe twenty-five. Blonde hair. Red dress tight against her body. She held Marco's arm like she owned him. Lucia's smile died. The room got smaller. Hotter. She couldn't breathe right. Marco looked at her. His eyes were cold. Empty. "Everyone, listen up." His voice cut through everything. The music. The laughter. The joy. The room went silent. Everyone turned. Stared at him. At the woman. At Lucia. "This is Margaret," Marco said. No feeling in his voice. Nothing. "I'm leaving Lucia for her." The words punched into Lucia's chest. She couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. What? "We've been together for two years." Marco's voice stayed calm. Like this was normal. "Margaret is moving into the house. Lucia's things are packed. They're in the garage." Two years. She made his breakfast. Washed his shirts. Slept beside him. Kissed him goodnight. Two years of lies. "Marco." Her voice cracked. "This is our anniversary. Our party. The children..." "The children know," Margaret said. Sweet voice. Too sweet. "They've known for months. They support us." No. Where were they? Ria? Lucas? Monica? There. Corner of the room. All three standing together. Ria stared at her. Sixteen with Marco's eyes. She crossed her arms. "Mom, just sign the papers. You're making this harder than it needs to be." The words cut. Deep. "Ria, baby, I don't..." "Dad's been unhappy for years," Lucas said. Fifteen. Her boy who used to be scared of thunder. "We all knew. Everyone knew except you." Monica giggled. Thirteen. The baby Lucia still tucked in at night sometimes. "Margaret takes us shopping. She actually listens to us. You never do." Lucia's legs shook. The floor tilted. Was she falling? Standing? She didn't know anymore. "I gave you everything." She looked at Marco. The man she loved. The man she believed in. "Everything I had." "You gave too much," Marco said. He pulled papers from his jacket. Divorce papers. "You smothered me. Margaret gives me freedom. She makes me feel like a man again." Margaret smiled. Victory written all over her face. "Sign them." Marco held out a pen. "Here?" Tears filled Lucia's eyes. "Now? In front of everyone?" "You're embarrassing yourself," Ria said. "Just do it already." People watched. Some turned away. Others whispered. Some pulled out phones. Taking pictures. Recording. Her pain as entertainment. Lucia's hand shook. She took the pen. The paper blurred. She couldn't read it. Didn't matter. She signed anyway. Her name looked strange. Broken. Not hers. Marco grabbed the papers. Folded them. Put them away. No thank you. No sorry. Nothing. "Leave now," Margaret said. "Your boxes are labeled. Don't take anything that isn't yours." "That house..." Lucia's voice was barely there. "I made it a home." "It's in my name," Marco said. "Always was. You have no claim." Ria stepped closer. "Mom, seriously. Everyone's uncomfortable. Just leave." "Yeah," Lucas said. "This is awkward." Monica laughed again. High. Cruel. Lucia looked at them. Her babies. She carried them. Fed them. Loved them. They looked at her like trash. "I loved you," she whispered. To all of them. "So much." "Not enough," Marco said. He pulled Margaret close. Kissed her. Right there. In front of Lucia. In front of everyone. Some people gasped. Others cheered. Lucia's feet moved. One step. Another. Through the crowd. Out the door. Rain. Heavy and cold. It soaked her dress in seconds. The special dress. Ruined now. She walked. Didn't know where. Her feet hurt in the heels but she kept going. Past houses with warm lights. Families inside. Real families. The tears came. Hot against her cold face. Her whole body shook. Remember when Ria took her first steps? Right into Lucia's arms. Lucia cried then too. Happy tears. Remember when Lucas learned to ride a bike? He fell. Scraped his knee. Lucia held him. Kissed it better. Remember when Monica drew that picture in kindergarten? Four stick figures holding hands. "That's us, Mommy. Our family." Gone. All of it. She fell. Her knees hit wet concrete. Hands in dirty water. She didn't get up. Couldn't. Thunder. Lightning. The sky was angry. Like her insides. Her phone buzzed. She pulled it out. Message from Marco. "Don't contact the children. Don't contact me. Move on." Move on. Like it was easy. Like she could just forget. Another message. Ria. "Mom, you're so dramatic. We're all happier without you. Accept it." The phone slipped from her hand. Fell into water. Screen went black. She stayed there. On her knees. Water soaking through her dress to her skin. Cold. So cold. Cars passed. No one stopped. She was nothing. Nobody wanted her. Not her husband. Not her children. Nobody. The necklace. She grabbed it. The silver one Marco gave her. Twenty years ago. When he said he loved her. When he promised forever. Lies. She ripped it off. The chain broke. She threw it into the street. Her makeup ran down her face in black streaks. Her hair stuck to her cheeks. Her dress clung heavy to her body. She tried to stand. Her legs wouldn't work right. They shook. Weak. Finally up. Barely. She looked back at the ballroom. The lights still glowed. Music still played. They were still celebrating. Without her. Celebrating her ending. A sound came from her throat. Half laugh. Half sob. Wrong. Broken. She turned away. Started walking again. Water in her shoes. Each step hurt. Where was she going? Didn't matter. She had nowhere. No home. Marco took it. No family. They chose Margaret. No money. Everything was in Marco's name. Nothing. She had nothing. The street blurred. More tears. Or maybe just the water running into her eyes. Remember their wedding day? Marco said she was beautiful. He said he'd never leave. He promised. Liar. Remember Ria's birth? Sixteen hours of labor. Worth it. Every second. To hold her baby. That baby just told her to leave. Remember Lucas's first word? Mama. He said mama. He reached for her. That boy said everyone knew except her. Like she was stupid. Remember Monica's first day of school? She cried. Didn't want Lucia to go. Held onto her leg. That girl laughed at her. In front of everyone. How? How did they all stop loving her? When did it happen? Was she blind? Stupid? Was she really that bad? Her chest hurt. Actual physical pain. Like something inside was tearing apart. She stopped walking. Middle of the sidewalk. Water pooled around her feet. A woman passed by. Looked at her. Looked away quick. Kept walking. Another person. A man. He crossed the street to avoid her. She was that woman now. The one people avoided. The one they pitied. The one they whispered about. Did you hear? Her husband left her at their anniversary party. For a younger woman. Even her kids don't want her. Poor thing. She didn't want pity. She wanted her life back. Her family. Her home. Her heart. But it was gone. All of it. She started walking again. Had to keep moving. If she stopped she might never start again. The water kept falling. Getting harder. Heavier. Her whole body was numb now. From cold. From pain. From everything. Somewhere a dog barked. A car horn honked. Normal sounds. Normal night. For everyone else. For her, everything ended. She thought about going back. Begging. Maybe if she said sorry. Maybe if she promised to change. Be better. Be whatever Marco wanted. No. She saw his face. Cold. Done with her. She saw Margaret. Smiling. Winning. She saw her children. Looking at her like she was nothing. They didn't want her back. They wanted her gone. She was gone now. Walking in the dark. In the rain. Alone. Her shoes rubbed blisters into her feet. She took them off. Held them in one hand. Kept walking barefoot. The concrete was rough. Cold. Hurt her feet. Good. The pain was good. It meant she was still real. Still here. Still something. Even if that something was broken. She passed a store window. Saw her reflection. Didn't recognize herself. Hair wild. Face streaked. Dress hanging off her body. She looked destroyed. She was destroyed. Somewhere behind her the party continued. Marco and Margaret probably dancing now. Her children probably eating cake. Laughing. Happy. Without her. Like she never mattered at all. The thought made her stomach turn. She bent over. Nothing came up. Just dry heaving. Her body trying to reject reality. She straightened up. Kept walking. Had to keep walking. Didn't know where. Didn't know why. Just knew she couldn't stop. Because if she stopped, if she stood still, she might break into pieces so small no one could ever put her back together. So she walked. Alone. Barefoot. In the rain that wouldn't stop falling. Chapter 2 Lucia didn't plan to walk to the bridge. Her feet just took her there. The river below was black. Angry. Water rushing fast and loud. She gripped the railing. Metal cold. Wet. Slippery. How did she get here? Just walking. Walking. Then the bridge. The water below looked like it could swallow everything. All the hurt. All the pain. Her phone buzzed. Marco. "Where are you? People are asking questions. You're embarrassing me." She stared at the screen. Her fingers shook. Embarrassing him. Another buzz. "Answer me, Lucia. Don't make this worse than it already is." She didn't respond. Her phone kept buzzing. Message after message. "If you're trying to get attention, it won't work. I'm done with your drama. Answer me now." "You're being childish." "Grow up, Lucia." "Think about the children. You're embarrassing them too." The children. But Marco was worried about embarrassing them? She looked at the railing. At the gap between the bars. No job. She stopped working when Ria was born. Marco said they didn't need her income. Said she should focus on the family. So she did. No career. No money of her own. Nothing. Where was she supposed to go? The house was Margaret's. Everything in Marco's name. Her friends? Couple friends. Marco's work friends and their wives. They'd pick his side. Her family? Her parents died five years ago. Car accident. She had no siblings. No one. The river kept rushing below. Her phone buzzed again. "Fine. Don't answer. But you're signing more papers tomorrow. My lawyer will contact you. Don't make this difficult." She turned the phone off. Shoved it in her pocket. Before Marco, there was someone else. Not a boyfriend. A friend. Alexander. Alex. Her best friend since she was seven. They grew up on the same street. Rode bikes together. Did homework together. Told each other everything. When she got engaged to Marco, Alex stopped talking to her. Just like that. One day they were best friends. The next day he was gone. She tried calling. Texting. He never answered. That was eighteen years ago. She hadn't seen him since. Another person who left her. Who would want her now? No job. No skills. No money. Three kids who hated her. No one. She climbed onto the first bar of the railing. Her bare feet slipped. She gripped tighter. The water looked closer. Darker. Her heart pounded against her ribs. Ria with tiny fingers wrapped around her thumb. Lucia used to sing lullabies. Made up songs. That baby told her to leave tonight. Lucas scared of shadows. Loud noises. Dogs. Lucia held him through it all. That boy said everyone knew Marco was unhappy. Except stupid Lucia. Monica. Pink and screaming and perfect when she was born. That girl laughed when Lucia signed the divorce papers. How did she lose them? The rain fell harder. Her dress stuck to her skin. Heavy. She climbed higher. Second bar. Her feet barely fit. She wobbled. The water roared below. What would happen if she jumped? Marco would be relieved. No messy divorce. He'd comfort Margaret. Play the grieving husband. Poor Marco. So tragic. The kids would be fine. They had Margaret. They didn't need Lucia. Nobody did. What was the point? Get a job at a store? Rent a tiny apartment? Start over? Her bones hurt. Her heart hurt. Everything hurt. Maybe it was easier to just stop. She looked down at the water. It didn't look scary anymore. It looked peaceful. Final. She let go with one hand. Held on with just the other. The wind pushed against her. She closed her eyes. Took a breath. Sorry, Mom. Sorry, Dad. She let go with the other hand. For a second she just stood there. Balanced. Then her foot slipped. Wet metal. No grip. She was falling. No. Wait. Her arms flailed. Reaching for anything. Just air. The water rushed up. Wrong wrong wrong. She wanted to scream but her throat closed. Falling. Fast. A sound behind her. Footsteps? Running? She didn't have time to look. The wind howled in her ears. Or was that her own breath? Her own terror? Faster. The water below black and waiting. Her dress whipped around her legs. Her hair flew into her face. This was it. Then something grabbed her arm. Hard. A hand. Strong fingers wrapped around her wrist. Squeezed. Held tight. The falling stopped. She hung there. One arm stretched up. The other dangling. Body swinging over the water. The hand pulled. She rose a little. But her wrist was slippery. Wet from the rain. The grip started to slide. No no no. She swung her other arm up. Desperate. Clawing at air. The hand adjusted. Grabbed tighter. Different angle now. Both hands gripping her arm. Pulling. Her shoulder burned. Felt like it might rip out of the socket. But she was rising. Inch by inch. Thunder cracked overhead. Lightning lit up the sky for a second. In that flash she saw the water below. Close. So close. Her feet kicked. Found nothing. Just empty space. The hand kept pulling. Strong. Steady. Not letting go. She scrambled with her feet. Finally touched the railing. Cold metal agai nst her toes. She pushed. The hand pulled. Then she was over. Back on the bridge. She collapsed. Hands and knees on wet concrete. Gasping. Shaking. The hand stayed on her shoulder. Steady. Warm despite everything. Chapter 3 Lucia looked up. Rain poured down his face. Dark hair plastered to his forehead. But those eyes. Brown. Familiar. "Alex?" Her voice came out hoarse. "It's me." He knelt beside her on the wet concrete. "You're okay now." Alexander Kane. Her best friend. The one who vanished eighteen years ago. Here. Saving her. She couldn't process it. Her brain felt foggy. "Can you stand?" he asked. She didn't know. Could she? He helped her up. Her legs shook. He wrapped an arm around her waist. "My car is just over there." He pointed. "Let me take you somewhere dry." She nodded. Couldn't speak. He guided her across the bridge. Each step felt wrong. Like she shouldn't be walking. Shouldn't be breathing. His car was black. Expensive looking. He opened the passenger door. Helped her inside. The seat was leather. Soft. She sank into it. He got in the driver's side. Started the engine. Heat blasted from the vents. "Where do you live?" he asked. "I'll take you home." Home. The word stabbed. "I can't." The words stuck. "Marco. He. The house." She couldn't finish. Alex looked at her. At her ruined dress. Her bare feet. Her destroyed face. "Okay," he said quietly. "You'll come to my place then." She wanted to say no. But where would she go? So she said nothing. He drove. She stared out the window. Buildings passed. Lights blurred. They drove for twenty minutes. Then he turned onto a long driveway. Trees lined both sides. Tall. The driveway went on forever. Then she saw it. A mansion. Actual mansion with columns and big windows and gardens. "You live here?" The words came out small. "Yeah." He parked in front of wide stone steps. "Come on." The front door was huge. Wood with carvings. He pushed it open. Inside was. She didn't have words. Marble floors. A staircase that curved up. Paintings. A chandelier hanging from the ceiling. "This way." Alex led her through hallways. Past rooms she couldn't look at properly. Her mind was too tired. He stopped at a door. Opened it. "Guest room. The bathroom is through there." He pointed. "Take a hot shower. I'll find you something to wear." She walked in. The room was bigger than the bedroom she used to have. Used to. Past tense. The bed had white sheets. Fluffy pillows. "Lucia." Alex's voice made her turn. "You're safe here. Okay?" He left. Closed the door. She stood there. Dripping water on expensive carpet. The bathroom. Right. She walked through the door. Marble everywhere. A tub big enough to swim in. A shower with glass walls. She turned on the water. Steam filled the space. She peeled off her dress. It fell in a wet heap. She stepped into the shower. The water burned her skin. She didn't care. She stood under the spray until her fingers pruned. When she got out, there were towels. Big. Soft. White. And clothes on the counter. A t-shirt. Sweatpants. Too big for her. Must be Alex's. She put them on. Rolled up the pants. Back in the bedroom, she sat on the edge of the bed. Stared at her hands. A knock on the door. "Come in," she said. Alex walked in with a tray. A mug. Steam rising from it. "Tea," he said. "Chamomile. My daughter swears by it." Daughter. Alex had a daughter. Eighteen years. People had whole lives in that time. "Thank you." She took the mug. Wrapped her hands around it. He sat in a chair across from the bed. "Do you want to talk about it?" "Marco left me." The words tumbled out. "Tonight. At our anniversary party. In front of everyone. He's been with someone else for two years. The kids knew. They wanted him to leave me." Saying it made it real. Made it hurt more. "I'm sorry," Alex said. "Why were you on that bridge?" she asked. He was quiet for a moment. "I was driving home. Saw someone on the railing. I stopped." "You didn't know it was me?" "Not until I grabbed you." He leaned forward. "Lucia, what were you doing?" She couldn't answer that. "I didn't know where else to go," she whispered instead. "You can stay here. As long as you need." "I can't." "Why not?" Because she'd already taken too much from people. Because she was a burden. "Stay," Alex said. "At least for a week. Figure out your next steps." A week. Then what? But she nodded. "Try to sleep," Alex said. He stood. Walked to the door. "I'm down the hall if you need anything." He left. She put the mug on the nightstand. Lay down. Pulled the covers up. The sheets smelled clean. Fresh. Nothing like before. She closed her eyes. Didn't think she'd sleep. But exhaustion pulled her under anyway. When she woke, sunlight streamed through the windows. Bright. Harsh. For a second she didn't know where she was. Then it all came back. She sat up. Her body ached. Her head pounded. A clock on the nightstand said 9:47. Her phone. Where was her phone? She found it on the dresser. Alex must have brought it in. She turned it on. Messages flooded in. Marco. Seventeen of them. She scrolled past those. Then she saw one from an unknown number. She opened it. "Hi Lucia! It's Margaret. Marco gave me your number. Hope you don't mind! Quick question, where do you keep your face products? I want to try your routine. Your skin always looked so glowy!" Lucia stared at the screen. Face products? She hadn't used face products in years. Just soap. Water. Whatever was cheap at the store. But Margaret thought. Margaret assumed. Another message came through. "Also, do you have a specific brand for your hair? It always looked so shiny!" Shiny. Lucia touched her hair. Dry. Frizzy. Damaged from years of cheap shampoo. She wanted to throw the phone. Wanted to scream. But she did nothing. Just turned the phone off. Put it back on the dresser. A knock on the door. "Come in," she said. The door burst open. A girl bounced in. Curly dark hair. Big smile. Energy radiating off her. "Hi! You're awake! Dad said not to bother you but I couldn't wait anymore. I'm Lena!" Lena. Alex's daughter. "Hi," Lucia managed. "Dad said you're staying with us for a bit. That's so cool. We never have guests. Well, we do but they're boring business people. You're different. I can tell." The girl talked fast. Bright. Bubbly. "I'm Lucia," she said. "I know! Dad told me. He said you were friends a long time ago. Like before I was born." Lena sat on the edge of the bed. Uninvited but somehow not intrusive. "How old are you?" Lucia asked. "Fifteen. Well, fifteen and a half." Same age as Lucas. The thought stabbed. "Are you okay?" Lena's smile faded. "You look sad." "I'm fine," Lucia lied. "Dad says that too. When he's not fine. Adults always say they're fine." Smart kid. "I have kids," Lucia said. Didn't know why she said it. "Three of them." "Cool! Where are they?" "They don't want me." Lena's face scrunched up. "That's stupid. Kids always want their moms." If only. "My mom died," Lena said. Casual. "Cancer. I was five. I barely remember her." "I'm sorry." "It's okay. I mean it's not. But I'm okay. Dad made sure." Lena picked at the blanket. "He's really good at taking care of people. Even when he's sad. He was really sad after Mom died." Ten years. Alex's wife died ten years ago. "You live in this huge place," Lucia said. "Just the two of you?" "Yep. Well, and the staff. Maria cooks. Roberto does the gardens." Lena shrugged. "It's a lot of space. Gets lonely sometimes. But Dad works a lot. Building companies. I don't really get it. Just know he's really rich." Extremely wealthy. Looking around, it was obvious. "Must be nice," Lucia said. "Sometimes." Lena's smile came back. "Other times it's weird. People at school treat me different. They want to be my friend because of Dad's money. Not because they like me." "That sounds hard." "It is. But you learn who's real and who's fake pretty fast." Lena stood. "Anyway! Dad said to tell you breakfast is ready when you want." Lucia looked at the clock. Almost ten. "Come down when you're ready!" Lena headed for the door. Turned back. "I'm really glad you're here. The house feels less empty." She left. Lucia got out of bed. Found the bathroom again. Splashed water on her face. Looked in the mirror. Her eyes were puffy. Red. Her face was pale. She looked like a ghost. Stop it. She went downstairs. Followed the sound of voices. The kitchen was huge. White cabinets. Marble counters. An island in the middle. Alex stood at the stove. Lena sat on a stool. They were laughing about something. They looked happy. She stood in the doorway. Suddenly feeling like an intruder. Alex saw her. "Hey. You're up. Hungry?" "I don't know," she said honestly. "Well, I made eggs. And toast. And bacon. And pancakes because Lena insisted." "I always insist," Lena said. "Pancakes are life." Lucia sat on a stool. Alex put a plate in front of her. But she picked up a fork. Took a bite. It tasted like nothing. But she chewed. Swallowed. "So," Alex said. Leaning against the counter. "You can stay here. Week or so. Figure out what you want to do next." Lucia's hands tightened around the fork. "I can't pay you." "I'm not asking you to." Her throat closed up. "I don't have anything." "Then stay until you do." Alex's voice was gentle. "No pressure." Lena grabbed her arm. "Please stay! I've always wanted another girl in this house." Something in Lucia's chest cracked. This girl. This bright girl who didn't know her. Who had no reason to want her here. But she did. "Okay," Lucia whispered. "Great!" Lena squeezed her arm. "This is going to be so fun!" Fun. When was the last time Lucia had fun? She couldn't remember. Alex smiled at her. Small. Understanding. For the first time since Marco walked in with Margaret, something other than pain settled in her chest. Not hope. Not quite. But possibility. Maybe. Chapter 4 Alex stood in his office. Door closed. Locked. He stared at the monitor on his desk. Security footage from the guest room hallway. Lucia was still asleep. He rubbed his face. Hadn't slept. Just watched. Made sure she didn't leave. Didn't hurt herself. His phone buzzed. Thomas. His private investigator. "Confirmed. Marco Lewis filed divorce papers this morning. Moving fast." Alex's jaw clenched. Of course. Lock everything down before Lucia could think straight. He typed back. "Keep monitoring. I want to know everything." He put the phone down. Looked at the monitor again. Lucia. Thirty-three years he'd loved her. Thirty-three years of watching from the shadows. He was seven when he met her. She was seven too. First day of second grade. New kid. Poor kid. His clothes were too big. Hand-me-downs from his older cousin. The other kids laughed. Called him trash. Said he smelled. Then Lucia stood up. Tiny thing with wild hair and a voice that didn't match her size. "Shut up. All of you. He's new and you're being mean." She sat next to him that day. Every day after that. Her family had money. Big house. Nice cars. But she never cared that he had nothing. They were inseparable. Did everything together. Then high school happened. Sixteen years old. She was laughing at something stupid he said. He looked at her and. Oh. Oh no. He fell in love with her that day. Never told her. How could he? She was Lucia Hart. Beautiful. Smart. Rich family. He was Alex Kane. Poor kid with holes in his shoes and a drunk father. So he stayed quiet. Stayed her best friend. Died a little every time she talked about other boys. Then college. Marco showed up. Marco with his car and his clothes and his confidence. Marco who could give her everything Alex couldn't. She fell for him. Fast. Talked about him constantly. Alex listened. Smiled. Pretended his heart wasn't breaking. When she got engaged, he couldn't anymore. Couldn't watch her marry someone else. So he left. Changed his number. Moved cities. Built his company from nothing. Turned heartbreak into empire. And he watched her. Always. Hired Thomas five years after her wedding. Just to check. Make sure she was okay. Reports came. Photos. Updates. Lucia looked content. Three kids. Nice house. He told himself that was enough. She was happy. That mattered. But he kept the reports coming. Couldn't stop. Couldn't let go. Then last week Thomas called. "You need to see this." Photos of Marco. With Margaret. Coming out of hotels. Kissing in parking lots. "How long?" Alex asked. "Two years. Maybe more." His blood boiled. "Find out everything. I want dates. Times. Proof." Thomas delivered. Marco was planning to leave Lucia. Their anniversary party. Public humiliation. Alex tried to stop it. Drove to the venue. But he was too late. People were leaving. Talking. Gossiping. "Did you see her face?" "So embarrassing." He grabbed someone. "Where did Lucia go?" "She ran out. In the rain." He searched. Drove through streets. Panicking. Then he saw her. On the bridge. Climbing the railing. His heart stopped. He ran. Grabbed her wrist just as she fell. And now she was here. In his house. A second chance. He didn't deserve it. But he had her here. That's what mattered. A knock on his office door. "Dad?" Lena. He unlocked the door. She walked in. Looked at him. "You didn't sleep," she said. "I'm fine." "You always say that." She sat across from his desk. "We need to talk about Lucia." "What about her?" "I saw your face this morning. When you looked at her. I've never seen you look at anyone like that. Not even Mom." Alex's chest tightened. "Lena." "Tell me the truth. Who is she?" He sat down. "We were friends. I told you that." "Friends don't look at each other the way you looked at her." Smart kid. Too smart. "She was my best friend. Growing up." "And?" "And I fell in love with her. In high school." Lena leaned forward. "Did you tell her?" "No." "Why not?" "Because I was poor. She was rich. I had nothing." "That's stupid." "Maybe. But that's how it felt." Alex looked at his hands. "Then she met Marco in college. He had everything I didn't." "So you left." "Yeah." "And now she's here." "Yeah." "Do you still love her?" The question hung there. Heavy. "Yeah," Alex whispered. "I never stopped." Lena was quiet. Then. "How did you find her last night? On that bridge?" Alex went cold. "What?" "You just happened to be driving by? That's a pretty big coincidence, Dad." He couldn't lie to her. "I've been keeping track of her. For years. Through an investigator." Lena's eyes widened. "You've been stalking her?" "Not stalking. Making sure she was okay." "Dad. That's literally stalking." "I know. I know it sounds bad. But I needed to know she was safe." "And when you found out about Marco cheating?" "I tried to stop it. Tried to get there before he humiliated her. But I was too late." "So you went looking for her." "Thomas said she left the party. I drove around. Then I saw her on the bridge." Lena stood. Walked to the window. "This is a lot, Dad." "I know." "Does she know? About the investigator? About you watching her?" "No. And she can't know. Not now." "You have to tell her eventually." "I know." "If she finds out on her own, she'll hate you." "I know that too." Alex stood. Walked over to his daughter. "But right now, she needs stability. Not more chaos. Not more betrayal." "You think she'll see it as betrayal?" "Probably." "Do you think she ever loved you? Back then?" The question hurt. He'd asked himself that a thousand times. "I don't know. She never said anything. Never gave any sign." "Or maybe she did love you and you were both too scared to say it." Worse thought. That they could have had something. That he'd wasted years because he was a coward. "Doesn't matter now," Alex said. "She's healing. That's important." "When are you going to tell her?" Lena asked. "About your feelings? About everything?" "Not now." "When?" "I don't know. When she's stronger." "What if she's never ready?" "Then I'll keep it to myself. Like I have for thirty-three years." Lena turned to face him. "That's sad, Dad." "Maybe. But her happiness matters more." "Mom knew, didn't she? About Lucia?" Alex nodded. "Yeah. Sandra knew." "Did she mind?" "She said she didn't. Said she understood. That people carry ghosts. That loving someone unavailable doesn't mean you can't love someone else." "Do you think she was happy? With you?" "I hope so. I tried to make her happy. I really did love her, Lena. Your mom was incredible. Patient. Kind." "But?" "But she wasn't Lucia." The words came out broken. "And that's not fair. To her memory. To you. But it's the truth." Lena walked over. Hugged him. "I'm not mad, Dad. I just want you to be happy. Really happy." "I am happy. I have you." "You know what I mean." He did. "Give it time," he said. "Let Lucia heal. Then maybe." "Promise me you'll tell her. Eventually. About everything." "Lena." "Promise me, Dad. She deserves the truth." He closed his eyes. "I promise. When the time is right." "Good." She pulled back. "Now go shower. You smell like stress." He laughed. First real laugh in days. "I'm serious. Go. I'll make sure Lucia has everything she needs." "Don't tell her anything." "I won't. But you will. Soon." She left. Alex walked back to his desk. Looked at the monitor. Lucia was awake. Sitting on the edge of the bed. Looking lost. His heart ached. Thirty-three years he'd loved her. Thirty-three years of silence. Maybe Lena was right. Maybe he needed to tell her. But not now. Not when she was broken. He'd wait. Be patient. Be there. And hope. Hope that eventually she might see him as more than just her childhood friend who saved her life. Hope that eventually she might love him back. But even if she didn't. He'd still be here. Still protect her. Because that's what you did when you loved someone. You stayed. Even when it hurt. Even when it was hopeless. You stayed. Chapter 5 Lucia sat on the bed. Her phone in her hand. Staring at the screen. She shouldn't do this. She knew she shouldn't. But her fingers moved anyway. Opening Instagram. Typing in Ria's username. The profile loaded. Public. Of course. Photos filled the screen. Recent ones. From yesterday. Her breath caught. There. A video. Posted three hours ago. She clicked it. Laughter came first. Happy laughter. Then the image loaded. Marco. Margaret. And all three kids. Sitting around a table. Pizza boxes open. Everyone smiling. "Say hi to everyone!" Ria's voice. She was recording. "Hi!" Monica waved at the camera. Big smile. Lucas gave a thumbs up. Grinning. Margaret leaned into Marco. "We're having the best family night!" Family night. Lucia's hands shook. "Margaret makes the best homemade cookies," Monica said. "Way better than Mom's store bought ones." The words stabbed. "And she actually listens when we talk," Ria added. "Like really listens. Not just pretending while looking at her phone." Lucia never looked at her phone during conversations. Never. "Plus she's cool," Lucas said. "She gets us. You know?" Margaret laughed. Kissed Marco's cheek. "These kids are amazing. I'm so lucky." The video ended. Lucia stared at the black screen. Her reflection stared back. Pale. Hollow. She scrolled down. More photos. Margaret braiding Monica's hair. Margaret and Ria shopping. Matching bags. Lucas teaching Margaret how to play video games. All posted today. Captions about how wonderful Margaret was. Not one mention of Lucia. Her chest hurt. Like something inside was tearing. She kept scrolling. Couldn't stop. Another video. Margaret's account. "My new family!" Margaret's voice. Cheerful. Sweet. The camera panned. Marco cooking. The kids setting the table. "I've always wanted kids," Margaret said. "And now I have three perfect ones. Dreams really do come true!" Lucia's phone slipped from her fingers. Fell onto the bed. She couldn't breathe. They replaced her. Two days. Two days and they'd already replaced her. A sound came from her throat. Half sob. Half scream. She grabbed a pillow. Pressed it to her face. Maybe they were right. Maybe she was a bad mother. Maybe Margaret was better. No. No. But look at them. Look how happy they were. The tears came. Loud. Ugly. A knock on the door. Soft. She didn't answer. The door opened anyway. "Lucia?" Alex. She couldn't look at him. "Hey." His voice got closer. "What happened?" She shook her head. The bed dipped. He sat beside her. "Talk to me," he said. She lowered the pillow. Her face was wet. "I looked at their social media," she whispered. "The kids." Alex's jaw tightened. "What did you see?" "They're with Marco. And her. Margaret. They posted videos. They look. They look so." She couldn't say it. Alex picked up her phone. Looked at the screen. His face went hard. "This is cruel," he said. "Maybe it's true." The words came out broken. "Maybe I was a terrible mother. Maybe they're better off." "Stop." "Look at them, Alex. They don't miss me at all." "They're kids being manipulated." "They chose her." "They chose what's easier. That doesn't make you bad." Lucia pulled her knees to her chest. "I should call them. Maybe if I just. If I explain." "Explain what? They don't want to hear it." The bluntness hurt. But it was true. She grabbed her phone. Opened it. Stared at Monica's number. What would she even say? Please love me again? Please remember I'm your mother? Her finger hovered over the call button. "Don't," Alex said quietly. She put the phone down. Face down. Alex was quiet. Then he stood. Walked to the window. "I have an idea," he said. "But you'll probably think I'm insane." She looked up. "What?" He turned to face her. Hesitated. Like he was debating something. "Disappear," he finally said. "What?" "Leave. Go somewhere far. Reinvent yourself. Come back when you're ready." "I can't just leave." "Why not? What's keeping you here?" The question hung there. What was keeping her? Nothing. Nobody wanted her here. "Where would I even go?" she asked. Alex took a breath. "Germany. I have a villa there. Countryside. Quiet. You could stay as long as you need." Germany. Another country. "And do what?" "Learn. Transform." He walked back over. Sat on the bed again. "I can teach you about business. Finance. How money works. You could come back different. Stronger." "Why would I need to know about business?" Alex hesitated again. Like he was afraid to tell her. "Marco is hiding assets offshore," he finally said. Lucia stared at him. "What?" "I had Thomas dig deeper. Marco has accounts in the Cayman Islands. Properties under shell companies. He's been planning this." Her stomach turned. "How long?" "At least five years." Five years. "The affair. The quick wedding. It's all calculated." Alex's voice was steady. "He wants to marry Margaret fast. Lock everything down before you can do anything." "He's going to marry her?" "Already applied for the license. Wedding next month." Next month. Their divorce wasn't even final. "How do you know all this?" she asked. "Thomas is good at his job." "You've been investigating Marco?" "Yes." She should be angry. Should feel violated. But she just felt. Tired. "What else?" "Marco's company. I own shares. Thirty percent." Lucia looked at him. "Thirty?" "I'm the second largest shareholder. Marco doesn't know. The shares are under a holding company." "Why are you telling me this?" Alex looked down at his hands. "Because I can help you. If you want. I can give you leverage. Information. Everything you need to fight back." Fight back. She'd never fought back against anything. "I don't know how to fight," she said. "I'll teach you." "In Germany." "Yes." She stood up. Walked to the window. Looked out at the gardens. Six months in another country. Learning things she didn't understand. Coming back. For what? "What if I come back and nothing changes?" she asked. "What if I'm still nobody? What if they still don't want me?" "Then at least you'll be somebody who chose to fight." "But what if I don't want to fight? What if I just want my kids back?" The words cracked on the way out. Alex stood. Walked over. Stood beside her. "You can't make people love you," he said quietly. "Not even your kids. But you can make them respect you. You can make them regret what they did." "Is that enough?" "I don't know. But it's better than this." She looked at him. Really looked. He looked scared. Like he was afraid she'd say no. Like this mattered to him more than he was saying. "Why do you care so much?" she asked. He opened his mouth. Closed it. Looked away. "Because you deserve better," he finally said. "You always did." The air between them felt charged. "If I do this," she said slowly. "If I go. What happens to me?" "What do you mean?" "I'll be alone. In a foreign country. Learning things I don't understand. What if I can't do it? What if I fail?" "You won't." "You don't know that." "No. But I believe it." She wanted to believe it too. But believing meant hoping. And hoping meant risking more pain. "I'm scared," she whispered. "I know." "What if they're right about me? What if I really am that terrible?" "You're not." "How do you know?" "Because I've known you for thirty-three years. And you've never been terrible. Not once." The words hit something in her chest. She looked back out the window. The sun was setting. Orange and pink. Tomorrow she could leave. Start over. Become someone new. Or she could stay. Keep crying. Keep checking their social media. Keep hurting. She thought about Monica's laugh in that video. Lucas's smile. Ria's happiness. They were fine without her. Better even. Something inside her shifted. Hardened. "Okay," she said. "Okay?" "Yeah. Germany. All of it." Alex's face changed. Relief. "You won't regret this." "I already regret everything else." He almost smiled. She looked down at her phone. Still on the bed. Still showing her kids with someone else. "I want them to see," she said. Voice quiet. "I want them to see me different. Strong. Someone they can't ignore." "They will." "And Marco. I want him to know he made a mistake." "He will." She didn't know if she believed him. But she wanted to. "When do we leave?" she asked. "Two days. I need to arrange some things first." Two days. "What about Lena?" "She's excited. Already packing." Of course she was. Lucia picked up her phone. Looked at it one last time. Then she deleted Instagram. Done watching. Done hurting. "Teach me everything," she said. Looking at Alex. "I want to know how to win." "I will." Outside, the sun disappeared. Darkness came. But for the first time in days, Lucia didn't feel afraid of it. She felt ready for it. Chapter 6 Sleep refused to come. Lucia paced her bedroom, bare feet silent on thick carpet. Each passing minute brought images she couldn't escape. Marco. Margaret. The kids. She paused at the window, pressing her palm against the cool glass. The gardens stretched out below, dark and quiet. Germany. A new identity. The chance to rebuild. Images from the past days swirled in her mind. Marco's cold face at the anniversary party. Margaret's victorious smile. The kids choosing her. Choosing to discard their own mother. She moved to the dresser where she had left her phone. Picked it up. Put it down. Picked it up again. One call. That's all it would take. One call to Monica. To beg. To plead. Please remember I'm your mother. But what would that accomplish? They'd made their choice. Clearly. Publicly. Cruelly. Lucia set the phone down, turning instead to face the mirror. The woman staring back looked hollow. Defeated. Used up. Is this who she was now? Who she'd always been? A woman so easily replaced? No. Not anymore. The truth hit her with sudden clarity. Marco hadn't just taken her marriage. He'd stolen her children. Poisoned them against her. Made them participants in her destruction. They needed to learn. All of them. That people couldn't be discarded without consequences. Morning found Lucia seated in the kitchen. She had dressed in the borrowed clothes, simple t-shirt and jeans. Her hair hung loose around her face. She heard footsteps and looked up to see Alex approaching. He carried two mugs, steam rising. "Couldn't sleep?" he asked, offering her one of the mugs. "No." She accepted the coffee, grateful for its warmth. Alex sat across from her at the island. "Did you think about what we discussed?" Lucia took a deep breath. "I want to leave today." Alex looked at her. "Today?" "Yes. I can't stay here anymore. Every second in this city, I feel like I'm drowning." "We can leave today," Alex said. "I'll make the arrangements." Relief washed through her. "Thank you." "What about your belongings? From the house?" The thought of going back there made her stomach turn. "I don't want anything from that place." "You'll need clothes." "Then I'll get new ones. In Germany. I want a completely fresh start." Alex studied her face. "You're sure?" "I've never been more sure of anything." Lucia's voice was steady. "For seventeen years, I've been living half a life. Being what Marco wanted. What the kids needed. What everyone expected. I forgot how to be just Lucia." "And now?" "Now I want to remember." She set her mug down. "I want to discover who I am without them. And then I want them to see that woman when it's too late." Alex nodded slowly. "It won't be easy." "I don't want easy." Lucia stood, restless energy filling her. "I want to grow. I want to transform. I want..." "Justice," Alex supplied quietly. She met his gaze. "Yes. Is that wrong?" "No." He rose to stand before her. "It's human. They hurt you deliberately. Wanting them to feel consequences doesn't make you a bad person." "Monica laughed," Lucia whispered. "My baby. She laughed when I signed those papers." Alex's hands twitched at his sides. "Children can be cruel." "This wasn't childish thoughtlessness. This was calculated." Her voice hardened. "They participated in destroying me. And they need to learn I won't be destroyed so easily." A smile curved Alex's lips. "There she is. The Lucia I remember. The fighter." "Was I? A fighter?" Lucia searched his face. "Sometimes I can't remember who I was before Marco." "You were magnificent," Alex said simply. "Fierce. The girl who defended me against bullies. Who stood up for what was right." His words sparked something inside her. A memory of the girl she had been. The one with dreams. The one who didn't back down. "I want to be her again," Lucia said. "Not exactly the same. But I want to find that strength. That sense of self." Alex nodded. "Then that's what we'll do. We can leave this afternoon. The villa is ready." "What about my legal situation? The divorce?" "My attorneys can handle everything. Marco won't be able to rush through without proper proceedings." "And my things from the house?" "I could send someone to retrieve them. Marco wouldn't know." The offer tempted her. Her books. Her photos. Small treasures. But something stopped her. "No," she said finally. "Let them go. They're part of the old Lucia. She doesn't exist anymore." Alex studied her. "Some of those things have sentimental value." Lucia thought of the photo albums. The children's artwork. Family souvenirs. Each one a knife now. "The memories aren't in the objects. They're here." She touched her chest. "I'm taking them with me. Both the good and the bad." Alex nodded, respect in his gaze. "I'll tell Lena our plans." "Lena is coming?" "She insisted. She's quite taken with you." The words touched Lucia deeply. This girl who barely knew her cared more than her own children. Footsteps on the stairs. Lena appeared, face brightening when she spotted them. "You're both up early!" Alex turned to his daughter. "Lucia has decided to come with us. We're leaving this afternoon." Lena's eyes widened. "Really? That's amazing!" She rushed forward to hug Lucia. "You won't regret it." Lucia returned the embrace, surprised by how natural it felt. "I'm glad you're coming." "I wouldn't miss it." Lena stepped back. "What about Marco and the kids?" The direct question might have seemed insensitive from anyone else. "I don't know exactly," Lucia admitted. "I know I want consequences. I know I want them to realize what they threw away. But the exact form..." She shook her head. "I need time." Lena nodded. "The best plans aren't rushed. They're crafted carefully." Alex shot his daughter a look. "Lena." "What? I'm just being honest." Lena shrugged. "Lucia deserves justice." "It's alright," Lucia assured Alex. "She's right. I don't want blind revenge. I want them to face the natural consequences of their choices. To realize exactly what they lost." The conversation shifted to practicalities. What Lucia would need. How long they might stay. Managing the divorce remotely. Throughout the discussion, Lucia felt something shifting inside her. Each decision removed another weight from her shoulders. She was choosing her path now. Not following Marco's lead or the kids' needs. For the first time in years, Lucia was putting herself first. After breakfast, she returned to her room. Her few belongings fit into the small bag Alex had given her. The physical reminder of how little she had left was sobering. But also freeing. She was traveling light into her new life. Unburdened. As she zipped the bag, Lucia caught sight of her reflection. The woman gazing back seemed different already. Posture straighter. Eyes clearer. Jaw set with determination. Not yet the woman she would become. But no longer the woman Marco had discarded. This afternoon, she would board a plane to Germany. Would begin remaking herself far from their reach. Would learn about business, about power, about strength. And one day, when she was ready, when she had transformed, she would return. Would face Marco and the children not as the desperate woman they cast aside, but as someone they barely recognized. Someone they underestimated. Someone who survived and emerged stronger. They thought they knew Lucia Hart. Soon, they would meet Lucia Smith. And nothing would ever be the same. -------------- There are limited chapters to put here, click “learn more” to open App to continue reading (It will automatically jump to the book)

I am Demetra, the girl whose mother slept with every gamma, beta, and zeta…trying to climb her way up, only to crash-land at the very bottom and leave me here to clean up her mess in the Black Covenant Pack. As the lowest-ranking omega in the pack house, my glorious destiny is to personally serve one of three sons of Alpha Kael. Emris. Emris. Emris. Emris. My world is the four walls of his penthouse bedroom. I’m the ghost who takes his designer clothes to the laundry. I scrub his desk. I pick up the condoms after he’s done with whatever girl he drags home from the club. I’m the one who patches up the cuts and bruises from fights he doesn’t want his parents to know about, dabbing at his knuckles while he stares straight through me. I even cut his hair when it gets too long cause he hates when it brushes his shoulders. And when his famous temper explodes, shattering a lamp or hurling it against the wall, I’m the one on my knees, picking up the pieces. Always on my knees. Because Emris runs on a fuel of rage. However, the day I turned eighteen, a mate bond snapped between us during one of my cleaning routines. Me, a nobody, became mated to the first son of the Alpha. The one everyone whispers will inherit everything, because while all two of brothers are hybrids, Emris is the strongest…he is a Trybrid werewolf. Emris, who has never looked at me twice, suddenly couldn’t stand for me to be out of his sight. Yet, despite his new possessiveness. He warned me never to tell a soul that we were mates. Afterall, I’m an orphaned omega, a high-school dropout because the pack’s "charity" didn't cover an actual education. My father isn’t some politician or business mogul; he’s probably one of the countless faceless men my mother entertained. I am the pack’s pity project, the girl they “saved,” and my lifelong repayment has been to scrub their floors and make their beds. He was ashamed of me. The first time Emris ever truly looked at me was the day the mate bond snapped into place. I remember how his uncovered eye, stared down at me while the other was hidden under the usual black patch. The next time I saw him without that black patch, it revealed his serpent-lined colored eyes as he took my virginity in his bed. And I love him. Goddess, I love him with my entire soul, a stupid, desperate love that lives in the deepest, most secret part of my heart. I loved him when he made me his dirty secret. I loved him through his coldness and the countless ways he shattered my heart, only to gather the pieces and hand them back to him all over again. I am the one who watches him sleep. I am the one rocked him back to reality when he woke up from the nightmares of the two years he spent as a kid, locked in an enemy’s pack dungeon. He was broken, far from perfect, but he was everything to me. “Where you going?” His rough voice makes me stop buttoning my stupid house help uniform. I see my reflection in his floor-length mirror, my doll like white hair is all ruffled from where he fisted his hands in it, arching me against me just minutes ago. “It’s almost time for breakfast.” I look around his bedroom for my bra. “Shit.” Emris runs a hand down his face. I see the forgotten cup of water on his nightstand. The one I brought him last night before he pulled me into his bed and made me forget my own name. “This what you’re looking for?” I see my light blue bra dangling from his finger. I march over and reach for it, but he lifts his hand higher. “I’m already late. Give it.” I hold my palm out and try to sound firm. He pushes his dark hair back and sits up. The sheets pools around his nak3d waist. I can’t help the quick swallow in my throat as I take in the hard planes of his ab muscles or his calloused hands that held my waist so tightly I couldn’t escape a thrvst. “Did I say you could leave yet?” Emris’ voice is deceptively soft. “Keep it, then.” I frown and walk out. I can’t do this with him today. I hear his low chuckle behind me. “I don’t like your saltiness. Or is it moodiness? I don’t like your jealousy, either. I have so much to do today, the last thing I want is that attitude from you.” I do my best not to turn around and look at him. He knows exactly why I’m upset. The whole pack knows. The Alpha of the Mud Claw Pack’s daughter, Elena. Emris’s ex-girlfriend has just moved into the pack house. Luna Derisha is already parading her around, calling her his future Luna. And I’m here. His actual, true mate. His dirty little secret. “Demetra?” His tone shifts. It’s becoming a warning. “Don’t let me have to call you a second time!” When I turn, he’s out of bed in a loose pair of pants, walking towards the balcony where I’m standing at. “You know why I’m upset.” Emris rips off his black eye patch and tosses it aside. He usually covers that eye because his wolf gets agitated, and when it does, he can’t control the change. His left eye burns with a ring of gold, the pupil a terrifying thin slit. It scares people. But then, everything about Emris is designed to be scary. I’m just the idiot who’s in love with him, so I see past it. “You’re acting like I slept with Elena this morning!” “Wow.” I let out a scoff that’s designed to hide the hot press of tears in my throat. “So, you want to sleep with her? You can’t wait to have your ex-girlfriend back in your bed?” “Stop it. Her father is an Alpha. My mom is just securing my claim to the Alpha seat. It’s not personal—” “We are mates!” I yell and I’ve never yelled at him before. “You’re an omega.” Emris says it like it’s a disease. “That’s weak for a Trybrid like me. That’s a liability for the Alpha I’m becoming!” “You sleep with me! You claim me almost every night! But now, suddenly, I’m too weak for you because the Alpha seat is up for grabs?” In a second, he’s right in front of me. I watch the pupil in his left eye, “the serpent-like one” dilates. “Don’t you ever disrespect me. I paid for your high school. I offered to pay for college, but you were too proud to take it. I bought you a car you never drove! I give you a roof, my protection, and this is how you thank me?” Emris pulls me and I land against his bare chest, face inches from his. There, I force myself to go still so I won’t anger the beast further. I didn’t accept his gifts because I was sick of feeling like his charity case, a bill he had to pay for the mate he never wanted. “Once I'm Alpha, my pups will be in your belly. You'll... be under my protection for life." He roughs a brand across my waist before palming my back side. There comes the famous grab as he does a little tap-tap-tap taps with ownership. Usually, it would make me blush but this time, I just look at him with tears. However, Emris doesn’t see tears. He’s cold-blooded, and the worst part is, he’s proud of it. “As what?” I look up at him from what feels like a million miles below. The one thing I want is for him to claim me as his mate. To look at me and see his equal, his other half, not a constant reminder of how we’re opposites. Emris just stares back. Of course, he’s going to pretend he doesn’t understand what I’m asking. He’s an expert at that. “Change that jealous look on your face before I see you again.” I push his hand away from my waist and instantly feel cold. I walk out of his bedroom. The moment I step into the moving area of the pack house, I nearly collide with the head chef, whose face is twisted into a scowl that could curdle milk. “Where have you been?!” “I, uh… I woke up late.” I quickly answer. My job is only to maintain Emris’s private penthouse, so I have no idea why she’s so furious with me. “We’re short-staffed. Go help Miss Elena take her bags to her room.” Susan points and my stomach plummets. There she is. Elena Orient. Emris’ ex-girlfriend. Chapter 2 Elena was a part-time cheerleading trainer at Magnus High for a year. It’s the high school I was able to attend because of Emris’s “charity.” She’s at least four years older than me, and she was that impossibly cool adult all the younger girls, including me, desperately wanted to be. The boys were all secretly in love with her. She had perfect, bouncy blonde waves. Back when I was a gawky, puberty-stricken freshman, I’d daydream about looking like her one day. So yeah, I’m jealous. Elena Orient comes from a rich family, a powerful pack, and everyone adores her. She’s everything I’m not. I remember the first time she saw Emris. It was Guardians’ Day. I didn't have anyone to come for me, but he showed up. He was there for his sister, Teddy but I’ll never forget the way everyone stared as he walked straight up to me in the crowded hallway. The next day, Elena actually sought me out to ask me who he was. It was the first time our cheer instructor had ever spoken directly to me. I gave her his name, never imagining that simple answer would lead to them dating. Back then, I didn't care. I wasn't eighteen; the mate bond was silent, and Emris's life was his own. Now, everything is different. "Morning.” I say. Elena finally looks up from her phone. Even at 7 a.m., her blonde hair is bouncy and shiny. Makeup. She’s dressed in designer clothes plus perfumes. She’s obviously hoping to run into Emris, but he’s probably in the middle of his brutal gym session, followed by a wild run through the woods. He won't be back for at least an hour. "OMG! Demetra, right?" "Yeah. I should take your bags up—" I reach for one of the bold pink suitcases, but when I try to lift it, it doesn't even budge. "Did Emris send you to help me?" What does she think I am, his personal messenger? "Does he know I'm here already?" "No, Miss Elena." I reposition myself to wrestle with the luggage again. "Where is he? Still sleeping? Is he awake?" I give the stubborn bag a hard yank. "Can you give me an answer!?" There comes her irritation. I’d almost forgotten that behind that smile, she wears a lot of masks and her true personality is just plain evil. "I'm not sure, Miss Elena—" "Then, what use are you?" I pull the bag with all my might, and this time, it sends me backward. I lose my balance and crash to the floor just as Luna Derisha walks in with another guest. Oh no. “Elena, why are your luggage not taken yet!?” Luna Derisha’s asks. I get up quickly. “This weak omega—” Luna Derisha’s eyes narrow on me but she forces a smile for the guest. Elena’s mother, who’s watching the entire scene. “I’m sorry, Luna.” I step back. I know better than to be within arm’s reach when she’s like this; her slaps are swift. “Wow, her hair is so beautiful. She is such a beautiful young woman.” I see the muscle in Luna Derisha’s jaw twitch as the woman complements me. She hates any reminder of my mother, and my looks are the biggest reminder of all. Thankfully, Luna Derisha’s drivers come in and effortlessly haul the luggage away. “Luna, the tables are ready.” the head housekeeper announces. The moment they’re out of earshot, Luna Derisha turns on me. “I don’t even know your use in this house. All you do is fatten yourself on our food, yet your strength stays the same.” I stare at the ground. It’s better not to look at her. “Because of us, the sickly thing your mother gave birth to is growing. Your cream-white hair is getting longer. Your uniform is getting tighter on your body. Your hips are fattening like a wh0re’s, your…” She shakes her head in disgust. “It’s those same things your mother used to attract the lowest of the lows. Tell me, are you heading down the same path?” “No, Luna.” I answer quickly. “Get out of my sight! And did I not ask you to dye that hair black?” Someone calls Luna Derisha so her attention finally goes away from me. The moment she looks away. I feel a violent surge in my throat and I throw my hand against it. I don’t know if it’s the humiliation, the stress of the morning, or something else entirely, but I don’t wait to find out. I turn and run across the marble floors until I burst into the empty staff bathroom. I barely make it to the stall before my insides seem to rupture. I vomit and vomit and vomit until my stomach is empty. Tears are streaming down my face as I stare at myself in the mirror. Why am I vomiting? Is it the oats I ate last night? And then my brain decides to gives me an answer. Hey, remember that little monthly thing that ghosted you last month? Oh no. Oh, Moon Goddess… am I pregnant? Pregnant with Emris’ child? *** I change out of my uniform, into a pair of jeans and a top. I need a pregnancy test. Now. I've been sitting in front of the desk for the past three hours, trying to count days on a calendar, but it's useless. The problem is Emris. Our schedule last month was basically, all s3x. In his room, in mine, sometimes in a skyscraper hotel suite when his late-night meetings with the jet company ran long. Today is the 20th. No sign of my period. That can only mean one thing. We used protection… sometimes. When he remembered. Emris gets so lost in the claiming in a way that makes it impossible for either of us to think straight. I go out through the back kitchen, hoping to go unnoticed. "Where are you going?" Summer, my best friend blocks my path and shoves her hands into her flour-dusted apron, looking less like my ride-or-die and more like a very suspicious, pastry-based bouncer. "Luna Derisha is on a warpath today. So lucky you only answer to Emris. What's going on with you?" "Uh, I just have to run an errand—" "Ugh, don't even get me started. That Elena is such a snob. She brought thirty boxes of Louboutin, Chanel and had the nerve to ask if we'd ever touched anything like that. Please tell me a b1tch like that isn't going to be our next Luna." "Summer, if anyone hears you, you're going to lose your job." Paxton warns, he’s the assistant chef. "She's not wrong. Riley is arranging Elena’s closet right now. There are, like, a hundred pairs." Someone else says. "Guys, I really have to go." I try to sidestep them. But Paxton places a hand around my stomach region to stop me. He's always been overly concerned about me. "Are you okay? You look a bit…pale." Before I can answer, my eyes do a casual sweep past his shoulder to the kitchen's large glass windows. And I freeze. Emris is there, a million-foot tall on the gravel, making a phone call in his stuntman stature. He’s staring straight at us. Specifically, at Paxton’s hand, which is currently resting on the exact location of his potential future heir. For his own safety, and to prevent a murder in the parking lot, I crank up a smile. "I'm fine, Pax! Really. Just a quick trip into town. I’ll be back soon.” I hurry out to the gardens but a text lights up my phone from Emris. Just one word: Garage. I knew he wouldn’t let what he saw slide. His private garage is dim and it’s the first time we'd met here. The car Emris is in is a black Bentley that cost more than my life. With blue interior lights that make him a villain of a sci-fi movie. Emris unfolds himself from the seat. “You’re gonna use that nobody to make me jealous!” He has the most devastatingly handsome face I’ve ever seen. Skin like rich gold, messy black hair that looks better the more he runs his hands through it. He’s taller and stronger than any man I’ve ever known. I’ve felt the raw power in his thighs when they move under me, I’ve listened to the steady beat of his heart against my chest. It’s the universe’s cruellest joke that a voice so rough and harsh comes attached to a mouth that gives the softest kisses. “That’s not what I was doing.” “What was he about to touch?” “Emris, Paxton is just my friend. I’ve told you this over and over… he’s just looking out for me.” He rises to his full, ridiculous height. A skyscraper of a jealous Alpha he will soon become. I am forced to step back until I bump into another of his cars. He’s jealous. And when he’s jealous, he’s less a man and more a walking, talking grenade with the pin already pulled. “Looking out for you?” He tilts his neck in that specific way he does, a gesture that shows the tattoos on his throat and across his collarbones. I know they travel all the way down to his waist. I’ve traced them with my fingers before. “Because I don’t do enough looking out for you already!?” “Someone could see us. I should go—” “Get in.” I just stare at him in surprise. Emris has never, ever let me in the same car as him before, especially not while we're on pack grounds. This is breaking like twelve of his own rules. “If someone sees—” He drags me to the passenger side and pushes me in. Chapter 3 A moment later, he’s driving us smoothly away from the pack house, and I melt into the leather chair. “Where?” “Huh?” Emris hisses. “Where are you going? Don’t piss me off, Demetra.” “The, um… to the store.” “What could you possibly want from the store that you cannot get at the pack house!?” “Some hygiene products.” I squeakily lie. “And a new bra.” When we get to the shopping mall, his phone rings. Thank god, a distraction. He throws a black credit card at me without even looking, and I take it. I only accept because refusing would be a whole thing and I need him to be distracted. I go straight to the pharmacy section. My hands are literally shaking as I grab the test. I pay with my own cash and buy two, just to be sure. I also snag a random, overpriced bra I don’t need as my decoy. I lock myself in a bathroom stall and after ten minutes, my eyes instantly water when both tests show the result. Two pink lines. Two. I stare at myself in the mirror over the sink, looking again and again and again, as if my reflection will have a different answer. I’m pregnant. I’m pregnant with Emris’s child. I wipe the tears away, only for more to fall. It’s positive. Both tests are undeniably, life-falteringly positive. I stumble out of the stall and mumble an apology to the annoyed women waiting in line. I rush to the counter to pay for the bra, hastily wiping my cheeks and glancing out the mall to see if Emris is still in the car. My hands are shaking so badly I fumble the card, dropping it twice. As I turn from the counter, I bump hard into an older man and it sends my shopping bag and Emris's black credit card to the floor. "I'm so sorry!" I get to my knees to gather my things. The man bends down too and picks up the card. "Here you go—" "Thanks. I am so sorry, sir!" I repeat until he doesn't let go. I look up and see him staring at me with an expression of shock, so intense that the card in his hand actually trembles. "Sir…?" I try to pull it back. "What is your name?" he asks. "You look familiar. What pack are you from?" "Sir, please. I'm in a hurry." I finally manage to tug the card from his fingers but the encounter is far from over. "Alpha?" I look up to see a guy who must be a million inches tall, built like a valley, standing behind the older man. Did he just call him... Alpha? The older man ignores his guard or is it his Beta to continue staring at me. "You have white hair. You….you have white hair.” Why’s he looking at me like he's seen a ghost. Yes, I have white hair and so? My mind is reeling from the pregnancy tests, and now this? Will Emris accept the pregnancy? Will Emris be happy when I tell him? Will Luna Derisha kill me when she finds out I’ve been sleeping with her son? The future heir of the pack. The Beta speaks. "Alpha, you don't think she is—" “Please, have my business card.” The older man presses an embossed card into my hand but I don’t take it. “Sir, I don’t understand what you are saying or doing—” “I am searching for my daughter. She has white hair, just like…” “I am not your daughter!” A father is the last thing I have or need on this earth. “Dad?” Another young man, handsome and well-dressed, walks up, addressing the older man. The moment his eyes land on me, his jaw goes slack. While I’m distracted by the son’s stunned reaction, the older man quickly slips his business card into the palm of my hand and closes my fingers around it. And at that exact moment, Emris enters. One look at his eyes and I know I’m in deep, deep trouble. “You.” Emris voice makes everyone look in our direction. I rush to the side of the living temptress I call my mate, thinking he’s furious with me, but his eyes are on the group of men. “Emris, son of Alpha Kael.” the older man says. “I haven't seen you since your father’s death—” “Don’t start with me, old foolish man!” My mate hisses. The son of the older man comes close. “It’s me you hate, Emris. Leave my father out of it. After all, only one of us still has a father left.” The male insults the devastating storm that is my Alpha and walks out the door. The older man follows, and the hefty Beta is the last to exit. “Everyone. Leave.” Emris’s voice isn’t loud, but the store employees and customers run for the exits. Including the owner of the establishment. I don’t think there’s a soul in West Virginia who doesn’t know who Emris is, or the danger that radiates from him. As soon as everyone leaves, I start to explain. “I’m sorry I took so long. My… my stuff fell and—” “First, you throw that puppy, Paxton, in my face. And now I find you cozying up to that dying old man Ronin and his waste-of-space son, Slade. Are you seriously this desperate for attention, or just profoundly stupid?” My eyes widen in genuine shock. That was Slade? The rival Alpha Emris has hated since they were boys? The one from the Lion Pride pack? “I swear, Emris, I didn’t know—” I don’t get to finish when kicks a nearby display, sending a whole aisle of canned goods to the floor. “Why are you doing this!?” I clamp my hands over my ears. “Why am I doing this!?” He kicks another shelf which topples like dominoes, scattering products everywhere before he storms back to me. “I saw him slip you his card. What’s your price, Demetra? Huh? Was my bed not enough of a platform for you to audition for your next role? Are you planning to be Slade’s new step-mom or Slade’s little wh0re? After acting so damn pure with me, refusing the things I try to give you… you come here to meet with Slade? To become his wh0re, just like you are to me?” Emris’ words don’t just hurt. They dissolve me. The heat behind my eyes instantly melts into tears that stream down my face. “W-wh0re? You are the only person I have ever been with!” “Then what do you call a person who is available for me to use morning and night? A convenience. You clean up my messes and warm my bed. I didn't call you anything you haven't proven yourself to be. Now, take whatever pathetic offer that old man gave you and get the hell out of my life forever.” Emris turns to leave but I run after him, furious tears blinding me as I throw my arms around his back like an idiot. “How can you call me that!?” I weep on his shirt. Emris pries my hands off with cold strength. “I saw it with my own eyes. I saw the interaction—” “I tried so hard! I refused your gifts, your money… I did everything I could so you would never, ever look at me that way! But at the end of the day, this is what you think of me? You have no heart, Emris. You are dark. You are…” I gasp for air as the insult dies on my tongue. “I am Alpha! My father is dead and I will be Alpha soon. If you’re still in my territory when I formalize my title, I will personally escort you down the Walk of Judgment. I’ll make sure the entire pack knows exactly what you are.” The Walk of Judgment is a nightmare. A walk of shame where the pack forces you out while throwing filth at you, sometimes tearing the clothes from your back. It’s the ultimate disgrace before being cast out to become a rogue. And he just threatened me with it. I force Emris to face me again. “It’s me, Demetra! Why are you acting this way? It was a misunderstanding! I didn’t know that was Slade! I didn’t know who they were!” “And he gave you a card. You might be naive enough to believe that was a coincidence, but I’m not, Demetra. So much for loyalty. How long has this been going on? How long have you been spreading your legs for Slade? Or is the old man getting a turn, too?” Emris insults are too much so I slap him! His head snaps to the side. Once I do that, there is only the sound of his breathing. His chest begins to rise, and rise, and rise so I move away. “We’re done.” Emris storms out. I watch through the glassed door as he speaks to the mall owner before getting into his car and speeding away, leaving me in the wreckage. Chapter 4 Slowly, I sink to my knees and weep from my lungs so deep it feels like it will break me. I am inconsolable, lost in a storm of tears when a timid voice speaks. “Miss? The… the man said you are the one to clean up the mess he made.” I look up at the mall owner and I frown into tears. How can we be over when I carry a new life, a part of him, inside my belly? I get back to the pack house a little past midnight. My body aches everywhere…. like even my bones are tired. I don’t bother turning on the light; I just crawl into bed and start crying all over again. The kind of crying that makes your throat hurt. Slade. Of all people, it had to be him. Emris hates Slade more than he hates any other enemy. He’s the son of Alpha Ronni from the Lion Pride Pack. The Lion Pride Pack and the Black Covenant share a territory….joined by waters, separated by Alphas. They’re rich, powerful but Emris would rather die than be in the same room as them. I didn’t even recognize them! The older man just… he thought I was someone else. My phone glows in the dark: 2:17 AM. A part of me still wants to go to him, to tell him again that this is a mistake. Maybe if he just listens one more time, he’ll see it. Why does loving him make me feel like such an idiot? I know deep down he doesn’t deserve it. He doesn’t deserve me. And yet… I still do. When I finally wake up, it’s because someone’s tapping my arm. “Demetra!” It’s the head chef’s voice. “Goodness, child, I thought you were dead for a second. Do you realize you’ve slept two hours past your shift? Emris’ suite—” Once I see it’s morning, I leap out of bed and dash into the bathroom. I’m so dead. I’m supposed to clean Emris’s room before he gets back from the gym. If even one of his stupid, expensive things is out of place, he throws a fit. Then he’s late for breakfast, and the whole pack knows it’s my fault. I shower and throw on my uniform then take the elevator straight up to the penthouse level. I start planning my apology in my head as I move into Emris’ floor. Suddenly, I stop because standing right in the middle of the living room are Elena and Luna Derisha. And Luna Derisha is holding something lacy and blue between her fingers. My bra. It’s the one Emris took yesterday. The one I told him, over and over, to give back. I forget how to breathe but I have to say something. “Lu… Luna.” Luna Derisha’s violet eyes look almost black. “Who owns this?” I rub my hands on my apron like that’ll make me look less guilty. “Um… I don’t know.” I lie. The door behind me swings open and Radu fills the threshold like a dark mountain. He is the Luna’s gamma, the wolf everyone hushes for in the halls. He’s the one who rescued Emris after he was kidnapped and caged for two years as a kid. Radu doesn’t waste words, he only growls and moves when the Luna says so. Seeing him here means this isn’t just a scolding; it’s an execution. “You fucking slut! You’re trying to seduce my son. You put your bra in my son’s closet.” Elena shakes her head. “How old are you to be acting so shameless? You’re at least seven years younger than Emris!?” “Luna, it’s not… it’s not mine.” “It smells like you. Filthy. My son, who is going to be Alpha, is the person you’re trying to seduce? You’re just like that maggot of a mother who gave birth to you! That b1tch spread her legs for every man in the pack just to climb the ladder, and you ended up following the worst of her traits—” Her hot hand snatches my hair! Then, Luna Derisha uses it to bring to my knees. It’s so painful, so utterly painful and shocking that I taste metal and then white light. I see a bunch of my hair in her hands and then I feel blood coming from my scalp. I look up in tears. “It’s not yours. Fine. We’ll test it, then. Bring her downstairs where all the pack employees look. I will use this b1tch as a lesson.” “Luna, please! Luna, please!” My screams are short as Radu’s massive hand closes around my ankle. He doesn’t even lift me; he just uses my own body to drag me across the floor. My uniform rides as I twist and kick, but it doesn’t matter. By the time we reach the hall downstairs, every pack employee is there. Cooks, cleaners, security, everyone is looking at me at the centre. I’m trembling on my knees. I’ve always feared Luna Derisha, but never like this. Never when Emris isn’t here to stop her. “I hope you’re all watching…” Elena says loudly. “This is what happens to anyone who thinks they can seduce the future Alpha. Your little colleague here hid her bra in his closet, and now she’s pretending it isn’t hers.” Luna Derisha tosses the fabric at my face. “If you say it’s not yours, prove it.” I am not able to stop shaking. “But Luna….” the head chef speaks up for me. “In front of everyone?” “Are you questioning me?” “Apologies, Luna! Apologies!” I crawl forward on my hands and knees in tears. I grab the hem of Luna Derisha’s designer dress. “Please. Forgive me. I’ll never do anything like this again. Please.” “Luna, I’m begging you. Pleaseee-“ “You should have thought of that before you tried to disgrace my family.” Luna Derisha looks at Radu and I hear his boots coming forward. I feel Radu’s hands on the back of my uniform and the fabric rips straight down my back. I scream, trying to cover myself. “Rip the bra, too so she can try this one.” Radu obeys. The straps of my own bra snap, and I sob, using my long white hair as a pathetic curtain to hide my body. Through the veil of my hair, I see some of the male employees turn their backs so they don’t watch. The girls just stare in horror. I am n@ked, on my knees, utterly broken. Through, my sobs, I hear the one sound that could make this worse. The sound of the Luna’s sons. Emris. Silver and Regan. I’m shivering, n@ked and exposed on my knees, when I look up and see them standing there. “What the hell is going on here!?” Emris yells, looking at me. Elena and Luna Derisha spin around. They hadn’t seen him come in. “Mom, what the hell.” Silver says. Regan, the other brother, just chuckles. “Isn’t she Emris’s pretty little housekeeper?” “No, she is her mother’s daughter!” Luna Derisha shrieks. “And I don’t care what you say today, I will punish her mercilessly! Put on the bra, now!” I squeeze my eyes shut. I will rather die right here than be humiliated any further. “Demetra!” I hear Paxton’s voice, and he’s already at my side. Before I can say anything, he uses his own chef’s coat as a wrap around my shoulders. “Paxton.” I shake my head. “She needs more cover!” He yells to anyone who’ll listen and for a second, I think he might fight them all. “Paxton!?” Susan, the head chef calls out to warn him but he doesn’t answer. Then I hear a rumbling growl from Radu. My eyes dart up just in time to see the massive Gamma take a step forward to make an example of Radu but Emris moves faster. He doesn’t go for Radu. He goes straight for Paxton, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and yanking him away from me. “The Luna gives an order and you bring yourself into the middle of it!” I can see it in Emris eyes. This isn’t just about the Luna’s command. This is all the jealousy he’s been holding for Paxton, finally finding a public excuse to explode. “Demetra would never try to seduce you! There has to be some mistake!” Paxton chokes in Emris’s grip. “We all know Demetra! She’s kind, she’s content, and she’s worked her entire life for this pack!” Emris’s eyes flash with a dark, wicked fire. “What are you… her little lover?” I watch, horrified, as his hand tightens around Paxton’s throat. Paxton’s face begins to turn a terrifying shade of purple. “Stop!” I yell. “If I were her lover, so what?” Paxton gasps. “Are we so little to you that we are not worth your love, too? If I were, what does it even matter to—” Emris hurls Paxton across the room into the bar cellar in an explosion of shattering glass and wood. The crowd screams, some scatter in fear, others rush to help him. I get up to see if he’s okay. But Emris has something to say to me. “Get out of my pack now!” The shout makes my whole wolf skitter and break in half. Chapter 5 “But you know I have only you.” I whisper. I need him to remember. I need him to remember that in this entire, cruel world, he’s the only one I have. “What the hell do you mean by that!?” Elena inserts herself. Emris eyes are empty. “You have ten minutes to leave the pack house. If she doesn’t, Radu makes sure she leaves with a claw mark as a souvenir.” Then he walks away. Susan is the first to reach me. “Come on, sweetheart, quickly!” When we reach my room, she lets go so I can pack. I pull on a shirt with trembling hands. My fingers fumble with the zipper of an old bag I drag out from the closet. My chest hurts; my throat burns. I’m shaking so badly it’s hard to fold anything right. I keep thinking: I’m pregnant. I’m pregnant, and I have nowhere to go. No one to call family. My mate, the only person I ever thought I had just destroyed me. With five minutes left before Radu comes, I can’t breathe. That’s when I see the business card Alpha Ronni gave me, lying at the corner of my mirror table. His name, his number. I grab it. When I step out, Summer, Susan, and the others are waiting in the hallway. One by one, they hug me quickly, whispering goodbyes. I don’t trust myself to speak so I just keep moving before I fall apart. Downstairs, Luna Derisha is waiting. Silver and Regan step aside to let me through. “Elena?” Luna says lightly, “just promise me that right after you and Emris are married, you’ll give me a grandchild.” Elena smiles. “Of course, Mother-in-law.” I press a trembling hand to my stomach and swallow the scream sitting in my throat. Emris, I swear you’ll never know that I left with a part of you. I leave the Black Covenant Pack house and I don’t look back. Outside the gate, I just carry my light bag and think. Do I call? Do I not? Alpha Ronni barely knows me. No one outside this territory even knows me. I check my wallet and there’s a few bucks at most. Luna Derisha always said food and a bed were my payment so I can’t even afford a motel. I need help. I take out my phone, type in the number on the card, and call. “Hello?” I try not to cry. “Yes… um, I’m Demetra.” I stammer into the phone. “We met — at the store. I was with Emris that day. You are Alpha Ronni—” There’s a pause, then a deep, surprised voice. “Yes, you. I can’t believe you’re calling. Are you all right?” “I…I’m sorry to bother you, Alpha. I just… I have nowhere else to go. That’s why I called.” Silence. I hear my own heartbeat. My mind starts racing and I think what am I doing? He’s an Alpha. I shouldn’t even be calling him. “Never mind. I shouldn’t be calling you. You’re—” “Where are you right now?” “I’m just outside the Black Covenant gates.” I look around me. “I’ll send an escort. A convoy of cars. You’ll be brought to safety at once. Don’t move. Do you understand me?” “Yes…yes Alpha.” The line goes dead, and I clutch the phone to my chest. I look down at my belly and make a promise that Emris will never get to know of my child. He will search for me but he will never find. This heart will never forgive him. This heart will never forgive everyone in the Black covenant pack. *** Five years later. West Virginia Airport. “Tired?” My dad, Alpha Ronin, wraps his hand around mine in the first-class seat. It’s warm. Six hours from Manila and my butt is sore. “I’m beyond tired.” I mumble through a yawn and glance sideways. “She’s still asleep?” Amira, my daughter is hugging Grandpa’s arms with her mouth slightly open after being a menace the entire flight. The air hostess approaches, politely informing us that the path is clear for us to leave the plane. I start gathering my laptop, my sketchbook, pens— “Mr. Pride, Miss. Pride, this way.” We don’t lift a finger. Not for the bags, not for anything. The moment our feet touch the ground, a black car is already waiting to take us straight from the plane One of the many, many perks of being the daughter of the Alpha of the Lion pack. It still feels a little like playing dress-up, like any minute someone’s going to tap me on the shoulder and say, “Okay, fun’s over. Back to being the Black covenant’s charity case.” Five years ago, I called the number on that business card, not knowing I was dialing my own future. Back then in that store, Alpha Ronin recognized me not because he knew me…but because he knew my mother. A one-night stand. A mistake. Or maybe fate being cruelly efficient. White hair is pretty rare for wolves. Most people bleach or dye it, trying to look cool or intimidating. So it’s hard to spot a true one in the wild. But Alpha Ronin said he saw her in my face and the shape of my eyes. He had to be sure if I was his. When I called him, a fleet of cars arrived like and I was taken to the Lion Pack estate. They didn’t treat me like a stray. They treated me like a person. Like family, even before we knew for sure. That was when I met Slade. My half-brother. Then Alpha Ronin said my mother’s name and suddenly, everything clicked. The Black Covenant Pack had told me the history of my mother and since Alpha Ronin claimed he had a one-night stand with her, I agreed for a DNA test. It proved that Alpha Ronin was my father. All that time, I’d been an Alpha’s daughter, living on my knees. All those years I spent surviving as a charity case, I was the daughter of an Alpha. I nursed my broken heart for a year straight. Some days it nearly kills me but I survived because I wasn’t not alone. Then I give birth to Amira. And somehow, I break all over again. She has Emris’ hair. His eyebrows. His face hiding in hers so clearly it hurts to look at her for too long. Every time I hold her, the truth settles deeper into my bones that she is going to grow up without knowing her father. He doesn’t know she exists. And even if he did… I’m not sure he would care. That thought almost destroyed me. But Amira also saves me. I find strength in her tiny hands, in the way she curls against my chest like I’m her entire world. My dad notices the way I’m fading so he makes the decision for me when I’m too weak to make it myself. I need to leave the country so I choose Paris without really thinking. It sounds far away enough. I don’t realize what it will become until I’m standing inside the most beautiful house I’ve ever seen…flowers everywhere, gardens and that’s where I begin to paint. I paint my pain. I paint my past. I paint my heartbreak. I put every ounce of "him" and every ounce of onto those canvases. I shut out the entire world, focused only on my little girl and the colors on my palette. I started going to art school, not to find myself, but to prove I could. And then I sold my first piece. The first bidder wanted it for hundreds of millions. Just like that, I wasn't just Demetra. I was Demetra Pride, the millionaire artist who came out of nowhere. That sale did something more than fill my bank account. It gave me a new bone structure, one made of confidence. I believed I could do anything. In Paris, dad retires from leading the pack just to be with me and his granddaughter. For a while, it’s just us but now… after five years, we are back. We’ve returned to support Slade as he fully takes the reins of the pack. And Dad… he says it’s my duty, too. To help run it alongside my brother. He doesn’t want Amira growing up away from her entire family, from her legacy. I’m ready. I no longer nurse a broken heart. I have nothing to run from anymore. When we arrive at the pack house, everyone is already waiting. Dad squeezes my hand as we walk toward the entrance. "Ready, cub?" That’s his nickname for me. I squeeze back. "Born ready."

My husband divorced me for his mistress, and my children chose her over me. On the brink of suic/de, I'm saved by my childhood friend Alex, now a billionaire. He asks, "Do you want revenge?" The ballroom sparkled with golden lights. Lucia stood near the entrance in her blue dress, the one she bought just for tonight. She kept touching her necklace. The silver one. Marco gave it to her on their first date. People smiled. Friends. Family. Neighbors. They said congratulations. They said everything looked beautiful. She planned it all. Every flower. Every candle. Every tiny detail. "Mrs. Hart, you look so happy," someone said. She was happy. She thought she was. The door opened. Marco walked in with a woman. Young. Maybe twenty-five. Blonde hair. Red dress tight against her body. She held Marco's arm like she owned him. Lucia's smile died. The room got smaller. Hotter. She couldn't breathe right. Marco looked at her. His eyes were cold. Empty. "Everyone, listen up." His voice cut through everything. The music. The laughter. The joy. The room went silent. Everyone turned. Stared at him. At the woman. At Lucia. "This is Margaret," Marco said. No feeling in his voice. Nothing. "I'm leaving Lucia for her." The words punched into Lucia's chest. She couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. What? "We've been together for two years." Marco's voice stayed calm. Like this was normal. "Margaret is moving into the house. Lucia's things are packed. They're in the garage." Two years. She made his breakfast. Washed his shirts. Slept beside him. Kissed him goodnight. Two years of lies. "Marco." Her voice cracked. "This is our anniversary. Our party. The children..." "The children know," Margaret said. Sweet voice. Too sweet. "They've known for months. They support us." No. Where were they? Ria? Lucas? Monica? There. Corner of the room. All three standing together. Ria stared at her. Sixteen with Marco's eyes. She crossed her arms. "Mom, just sign the papers. You're making this harder than it needs to be." The words cut. Deep. "Ria, baby, I don't..." "Dad's been unhappy for years," Lucas said. Fifteen. Her boy who used to be scared of thunder. "We all knew. Everyone knew except you." Monica giggled. Thirteen. The baby Lucia still tucked in at night sometimes. "Margaret takes us shopping. She actually listens to us. You never do." Lucia's legs shook. The floor tilted. Was she falling? Standing? She didn't know anymore. "I gave you everything." She looked at Marco. The man she loved. The man she believed in. "Everything I had." "You gave too much," Marco said. He pulled papers from his jacket. Divorce papers. "You smothered me. Margaret gives me freedom. She makes me feel like a man again." Margaret smiled. Victory written all over her face. "Sign them." Marco held out a pen. "Here?" Tears filled Lucia's eyes. "Now? In front of everyone?" "You're embarrassing yourself," Ria said. "Just do it already." People watched. Some turned away. Others whispered. Some pulled out phones. Taking pictures. Recording. Her pain as entertainment. Lucia's hand shook. She took the pen. The paper blurred. She couldn't read it. Didn't matter. She signed anyway. Her name looked strange. Broken. Not hers. Marco grabbed the papers. Folded them. Put them away. No thank you. No sorry. Nothing. "Leave now," Margaret said. "Your boxes are labeled. Don't take anything that isn't yours." "That house..." Lucia's voice was barely there. "I made it a home." "It's in my name," Marco said. "Always was. You have no claim." Ria stepped closer. "Mom, seriously. Everyone's uncomfortable. Just leave." "Yeah," Lucas said. "This is awkward." Monica laughed again. High. Cruel. Lucia looked at them. Her babies. She carried them. Fed them. Loved them. They looked at her like trash. "I loved you," she whispered. To all of them. "So much." "Not enough," Marco said. He pulled Margaret close. Kissed her. Right there. In front of Lucia. In front of everyone. Some people gasped. Others cheered. Lucia's feet moved. One step. Another. Through the crowd. Out the door. Rain. Heavy and cold. It soaked her dress in seconds. The special dress. Ruined now. She walked. Didn't know where. Her feet hurt in the heels but she kept going. Past houses with warm lights. Families inside. Real families. The tears came. Hot against her cold face. Her whole body shook. Remember when Ria took her first steps? Right into Lucia's arms. Lucia cried then too. Happy tears. Remember when Lucas learned to ride a bike? He fell. Scraped his knee. Lucia held him. Kissed it better. Remember when Monica drew that picture in kindergarten? Four stick figures holding hands. "That's us, Mommy. Our family." Gone. All of it. She fell. Her knees hit wet concrete. Hands in dirty water. She didn't get up. Couldn't. Thunder. Lightning. The sky was angry. Like her insides. Her phone buzzed. She pulled it out. Message from Marco. "Don't contact the children. Don't contact me. Move on." Move on. Like it was easy. Like she could just forget. Another message. Ria. "Mom, you're so dramatic. We're all happier without you. Accept it." The phone slipped from her hand. Fell into water. Screen went black. She stayed there. On her knees. Water soaking through her dress to her skin. Cold. So cold. Cars passed. No one stopped. She was nothing. Nobody wanted her. Not her husband. Not her children. Nobody. The necklace. She grabbed it. The silver one Marco gave her. Twenty years ago. When he said he loved her. When he promised forever. Lies. She ripped it off. The chain broke. She threw it into the street. Her makeup ran down her face in black streaks. Her hair stuck to her cheeks. Her dress clung heavy to her body. She tried to stand. Her legs wouldn't work right. They shook. Weak. Finally up. Barely. She looked back at the ballroom. The lights still glowed. Music still played. They were still celebrating. Without her. Celebrating her ending. A sound came from her throat. Half laugh. Half sob. Wrong. Broken. She turned away. Started walking again. Water in her shoes. Each step hurt. Where was she going? Didn't matter. She had nowhere. No home. Marco took it. No family. They chose Margaret. No money. Everything was in Marco's name. Nothing. She had nothing. The street blurred. More tears. Or maybe just the water running into her eyes. Remember their wedding day? Marco said she was beautiful. He said he'd never leave. He promised. Liar. Remember Ria's birth? Sixteen hours of labor. Worth it. Every second. To hold her baby. That baby just told her to leave. Remember Lucas's first word? Mama. He said mama. He reached for her. That boy said everyone knew except her. Like she was stupid. Remember Monica's first day of school? She cried. Didn't want Lucia to go. Held onto her leg. That girl laughed at her. In front of everyone. How? How did they all stop loving her? When did it happen? Was she blind? Stupid? Was she really that bad? Her chest hurt. Actual physical pain. Like something inside was tearing apart. She stopped walking. Middle of the sidewalk. Water pooled around her feet. A woman passed by. Looked at her. Looked away quick. Kept walking. Another person. A man. He crossed the street to avoid her. She was that woman now. The one people avoided. The one they pitied. The one they whispered about. Did you hear? Her husband left her at their anniversary party. For a younger woman. Even her kids don't want her. Poor thing. She didn't want pity. She wanted her life back. Her family. Her home. Her heart. But it was gone. All of it. She started walking again. Had to keep moving. If she stopped she might never start again. The water kept falling. Getting harder. Heavier. Her whole body was numb now. From cold. From pain. From everything. Somewhere a dog barked. A car horn honked. Normal sounds. Normal night. For everyone else. For her, everything ended. She thought about going back. Begging. Maybe if she said sorry. Maybe if she promised to change. Be better. Be whatever Marco wanted. No. She saw his face. Cold. Done with her. She saw Margaret. Smiling. Winning. She saw her children. Looking at her like she was nothing. They didn't want her back. They wanted her gone. She was gone now. Walking in the dark. In the rain. Alone. Her shoes rubbed blisters into her feet. She took them off. Held them in one hand. Kept walking barefoot. The concrete was rough. Cold. Hurt her feet. Good. The pain was good. It meant she was still real. Still here. Still something. Even if that something was broken. She passed a store window. Saw her reflection. Didn't recognize herself. Hair wild. Face streaked. Dress hanging off her body. She looked destroyed. She was destroyed. Somewhere behind her the party continued. Marco and Margaret probably dancing now. Her children probably eating cake. Laughing. Happy. Without her. Like she never mattered at all. The thought made her stomach turn. She bent over. Nothing came up. Just dry heaving. Her body trying to reject reality. She straightened up. Kept walking. Had to keep walking. Didn't know where. Didn't know why. Just knew she couldn't stop. Because if she stopped, if she stood still, she might break into pieces so small no one could ever put her back together. So she walked. Alone. Barefoot. In the rain that wouldn't stop falling. Chapter 2 Lucia didn't plan to walk to the bridge. Her feet just took her there. The river below was black. Angry. Water rushing fast and loud. She gripped the railing. Metal cold. Wet. Slippery. How did she get here? Just walking. Walking. Then the bridge. The water below looked like it could swallow everything. All the hurt. All the pain. Her phone buzzed. Marco. "Where are you? People are asking questions. You're embarrassing me." She stared at the screen. Her fingers shook. Embarrassing him. Another buzz. "Answer me, Lucia. Don't make this worse than it already is." She didn't respond. Her phone kept buzzing. Message after message. "If you're trying to get attention, it won't work. I'm done with your drama. Answer me now." "You're being childish." "Grow up, Lucia." "Think about the children. You're embarrassing them too." The children. But Marco was worried about embarrassing them? She looked at the railing. At the gap between the bars. No job. She stopped working when Ria was born. Marco said they didn't need her income. Said she should focus on the family. So she did. No career. No money of her own. Nothing. Where was she supposed to go? The house was Margaret's. Everything in Marco's name. Her friends? Couple friends. Marco's work friends and their wives. They'd pick his side. Her family? Her parents died five years ago. Car accident. She had no siblings. No one. The river kept rushing below. Her phone buzzed again. "Fine. Don't answer. But you're signing more papers tomorrow. My lawyer will contact you. Don't make this difficult." She turned the phone off. Shoved it in her pocket. Before Marco, there was someone else. Not a boyfriend. A friend. Alexander. Alex. Her best friend since she was seven. They grew up on the same street. Rode bikes together. Did homework together. Told each other everything. When she got engaged to Marco, Alex stopped talking to her. Just like that. One day they were best friends. The next day he was gone. She tried calling. Texting. He never answered. That was eighteen years ago. She hadn't seen him since. Another person who left her. Who would want her now? No job. No skills. No money. Three kids who hated her. No one. She climbed onto the first bar of the railing. Her bare feet slipped. She gripped tighter. The water looked closer. Darker. Her heart pounded against her ribs. Ria with tiny fingers wrapped around her thumb. Lucia used to sing lullabies. Made up songs. That baby told her to leave tonight. Lucas scared of shadows. Loud noises. Dogs. Lucia held him through it all. That boy said everyone knew Marco was unhappy. Except stupid Lucia. Monica. Pink and screaming and perfect when she was born. That girl laughed when Lucia signed the divorce papers. How did she lose them? The rain fell harder. Her dress stuck to her skin. Heavy. She climbed higher. Second bar. Her feet barely fit. She wobbled. The water roared below. What would happen if she jumped? Marco would be relieved. No messy divorce. He'd comfort Margaret. Play the grieving husband. Poor Marco. So tragic. The kids would be fine. They had Margaret. They didn't need Lucia. Nobody did. What was the point? Get a job at a store? Rent a tiny apartment? Start over? Her bones hurt. Her heart hurt. Everything hurt. Maybe it was easier to just stop. She looked down at the water. It didn't look scary anymore. It looked peaceful. Final. She let go with one hand. Held on with just the other. The wind pushed against her. She closed her eyes. Took a breath. Sorry, Mom. Sorry, Dad. She let go with the other hand. For a second she just stood there. Balanced. Then her foot slipped. Wet metal. No grip. She was falling. No. Wait. Her arms flailed. Reaching for anything. Just air. The water rushed up. Wrong wrong wrong. She wanted to scream but her throat closed. Falling. Fast. A sound behind her. Footsteps? Running? She didn't have time to look. The wind howled in her ears. Or was that her own breath? Her own terror? Faster. The water below black and waiting. Her dress whipped around her legs. Her hair flew into her face. This was it. Then something grabbed her arm. Hard. A hand. Strong fingers wrapped around her wrist. Squeezed. Held tight. The falling stopped. She hung there. One arm stretched up. The other dangling. Body swinging over the water. The hand pulled. She rose a little. But her wrist was slippery. Wet from the rain. The grip started to slide. No no no. She swung her other arm up. Desperate. Clawing at air. The hand adjusted. Grabbed tighter. Different angle now. Both hands gripping her arm. Pulling. Her shoulder burned. Felt like it might rip out of the socket. But she was rising. Inch by inch. Thunder cracked overhead. Lightning lit up the sky for a second. In that flash she saw the water below. Close. So close. Her feet kicked. Found nothing. Just empty space. The hand kept pulling. Strong. Steady. Not letting go. She scrambled with her feet. Finally touched the railing. Cold metal agai nst her toes. She pushed. The hand pulled. Then she was over. Back on the bridge. She collapsed. Hands and knees on wet concrete. Gasping. Shaking. The hand stayed on her shoulder. Steady. Warm despite everything. Chapter 3 Lucia looked up. Rain poured down his face. Dark hair plastered to his forehead. But those eyes. Brown. Familiar. "Alex?" Her voice came out hoarse. "It's me." He knelt beside her on the wet concrete. "You're okay now." Alexander Kane. Her best friend. The one who vanished eighteen years ago. Here. Saving her. She couldn't process it. Her brain felt foggy. "Can you stand?" he asked. She didn't know. Could she? He helped her up. Her legs shook. He wrapped an arm around her waist. "My car is just over there." He pointed. "Let me take you somewhere dry." She nodded. Couldn't speak. He guided her across the bridge. Each step felt wrong. Like she shouldn't be walking. Shouldn't be breathing. His car was black. Expensive looking. He opened the passenger door. Helped her inside. The seat was leather. Soft. She sank into it. He got in the driver's side. Started the engine. Heat blasted from the vents. "Where do you live?" he asked. "I'll take you home." Home. The word stabbed. "I can't." The words stuck. "Marco. He. The house." She couldn't finish. Alex looked at her. At her ruined dress. Her bare feet. Her destroyed face. "Okay," he said quietly. "You'll come to my place then." She wanted to say no. But where would she go? So she said nothing. He drove. She stared out the window. Buildings passed. Lights blurred. They drove for twenty minutes. Then he turned onto a long driveway. Trees lined both sides. Tall. The driveway went on forever. Then she saw it. A mansion. Actual mansion with columns and big windows and gardens. "You live here?" The words came out small. "Yeah." He parked in front of wide stone steps. "Come on." The front door was huge. Wood with carvings. He pushed it open. Inside was. She didn't have words. Marble floors. A staircase that curved up. Paintings. A chandelier hanging from the ceiling. "This way." Alex led her through hallways. Past rooms she couldn't look at properly. Her mind was too tired. He stopped at a door. Opened it. "Guest room. The bathroom is through there." He pointed. "Take a hot shower. I'll find you something to wear." She walked in. The room was bigger than the bedroom she used to have. Used to. Past tense. The bed had white sheets. Fluffy pillows. "Lucia." Alex's voice made her turn. "You're safe here. Okay?" He left. Closed the door. She stood there. Dripping water on expensive carpet. The bathroom. Right. She walked through the door. Marble everywhere. A tub big enough to swim in. A shower with glass walls. She turned on the water. Steam filled the space. She peeled off her dress. It fell in a wet heap. She stepped into the shower. The water burned her skin. She didn't care. She stood under the spray until her fingers pruned. When she got out, there were towels. Big. Soft. White. And clothes on the counter. A t-shirt. Sweatpants. Too big for her. Must be Alex's. She put them on. Rolled up the pants. Back in the bedroom, she sat on the edge of the bed. Stared at her hands. A knock on the door. "Come in," she said. Alex walked in with a tray. A mug. Steam rising from it. "Tea," he said. "Chamomile. My daughter swears by it." Daughter. Alex had a daughter. Eighteen years. People had whole lives in that time. "Thank you." She took the mug. Wrapped her hands around it. He sat in a chair across from the bed. "Do you want to talk about it?" "Marco left me." The words tumbled out. "Tonight. At our anniversary party. In front of everyone. He's been with someone else for two years. The kids knew. They wanted him to leave me." Saying it made it real. Made it hurt more. "I'm sorry," Alex said. "Why were you on that bridge?" she asked. He was quiet for a moment. "I was driving home. Saw someone on the railing. I stopped." "You didn't know it was me?" "Not until I grabbed you." He leaned forward. "Lucia, what were you doing?" She couldn't answer that. "I didn't know where else to go," she whispered instead. "You can stay here. As long as you need." "I can't." "Why not?" Because she'd already taken too much from people. Because she was a burden. "Stay," Alex said. "At least for a week. Figure out your next steps." A week. Then what? But she nodded. "Try to sleep," Alex said. He stood. Walked to the door. "I'm down the hall if you need anything." He left. She put the mug on the nightstand. Lay down. Pulled the covers up. The sheets smelled clean. Fresh. Nothing like before. She closed her eyes. Didn't think she'd sleep. But exhaustion pulled her under anyway. When she woke, sunlight streamed through the windows. Bright. Harsh. For a second she didn't know where she was. Then it all came back. She sat up. Her body ached. Her head pounded. A clock on the nightstand said 9:47. Her phone. Where was her phone? She found it on the dresser. Alex must have brought it in. She turned it on. Messages flooded in. Marco. Seventeen of them. She scrolled past those. Then she saw one from an unknown number. She opened it. "Hi Lucia! It's Margaret. Marco gave me your number. Hope you don't mind! Quick question, where do you keep your face products? I want to try your routine. Your skin always looked so glowy!" Lucia stared at the screen. Face products? She hadn't used face products in years. Just soap. Water. Whatever was cheap at the store. But Margaret thought. Margaret assumed. Another message came through. "Also, do you have a specific brand for your hair? It always looked so shiny!" Shiny. Lucia touched her hair. Dry. Frizzy. Damaged from years of cheap shampoo. She wanted to throw the phone. Wanted to scream. But she did nothing. Just turned the phone off. Put it back on the dresser. A knock on the door. "Come in," she said. The door burst open. A girl bounced in. Curly dark hair. Big smile. Energy radiating off her. "Hi! You're awake! Dad said not to bother you but I couldn't wait anymore. I'm Lena!" Lena. Alex's daughter. "Hi," Lucia managed. "Dad said you're staying with us for a bit. That's so cool. We never have guests. Well, we do but they're boring business people. You're different. I can tell." The girl talked fast. Bright. Bubbly. "I'm Lucia," she said. "I know! Dad told me. He said you were friends a long time ago. Like before I was born." Lena sat on the edge of the bed. Uninvited but somehow not intrusive. "How old are you?" Lucia asked. "Fifteen. Well, fifteen and a half." Same age as Lucas. The thought stabbed. "Are you okay?" Lena's smile faded. "You look sad." "I'm fine," Lucia lied. "Dad says that too. When he's not fine. Adults always say they're fine." Smart kid. "I have kids," Lucia said. Didn't know why she said it. "Three of them." "Cool! Where are they?" "They don't want me." Lena's face scrunched up. "That's stupid. Kids always want their moms." If only. "My mom died," Lena said. Casual. "Cancer. I was five. I barely remember her." "I'm sorry." "It's okay. I mean it's not. But I'm okay. Dad made sure." Lena picked at the blanket. "He's really good at taking care of people. Even when he's sad. He was really sad after Mom died." Ten years. Alex's wife died ten years ago. "You live in this huge place," Lucia said. "Just the two of you?" "Yep. Well, and the staff. Maria cooks. Roberto does the gardens." Lena shrugged. "It's a lot of space. Gets lonely sometimes. But Dad works a lot. Building companies. I don't really get it. Just know he's really rich." Extremely wealthy. Looking around, it was obvious. "Must be nice," Lucia said. "Sometimes." Lena's smile came back. "Other times it's weird. People at school treat me different. They want to be my friend because of Dad's money. Not because they like me." "That sounds hard." "It is. But you learn who's real and who's fake pretty fast." Lena stood. "Anyway! Dad said to tell you breakfast is ready when you want." Lucia looked at the clock. Almost ten. "Come down when you're ready!" Lena headed for the door. Turned back. "I'm really glad you're here. The house feels less empty." She left. Lucia got out of bed. Found the bathroom again. Splashed water on her face. Looked in the mirror. Her eyes were puffy. Red. Her face was pale. She looked like a ghost. Stop it. She went downstairs. Followed the sound of voices. The kitchen was huge. White cabinets. Marble counters. An island in the middle. Alex stood at the stove. Lena sat on a stool. They were laughing about something. They looked happy. She stood in the doorway. Suddenly feeling like an intruder. Alex saw her. "Hey. You're up. Hungry?" "I don't know," she said honestly. "Well, I made eggs. And toast. And bacon. And pancakes because Lena insisted." "I always insist," Lena said. "Pancakes are life." Lucia sat on a stool. Alex put a plate in front of her. But she picked up a fork. Took a bite. It tasted like nothing. But she chewed. Swallowed. "So," Alex said. Leaning against the counter. "You can stay here. Week or so. Figure out what you want to do next." Lucia's hands tightened around the fork. "I can't pay you." "I'm not asking you to." Her throat closed up. "I don't have anything." "Then stay until you do." Alex's voice was gentle. "No pressure." Lena grabbed her arm. "Please stay! I've always wanted another girl in this house." Something in Lucia's chest cracked. This girl. This bright girl who didn't know her. Who had no reason to want her here. But she did. "Okay," Lucia whispered. "Great!" Lena squeezed her arm. "This is going to be so fun!" Fun. When was the last time Lucia had fun? She couldn't remember. Alex smiled at her. Small. Understanding. For the first time since Marco walked in with Margaret, something other than pain settled in her chest. Not hope. Not quite. But possibility. Maybe. Chapter 4 Alex stood in his office. Door closed. Locked. He stared at the monitor on his desk. Security footage from the guest room hallway. Lucia was still asleep. He rubbed his face. Hadn't slept. Just watched. Made sure she didn't leave. Didn't hurt herself. His phone buzzed. Thomas. His private investigator. "Confirmed. Marco Lewis filed divorce papers this morning. Moving fast." Alex's jaw clenched. Of course. Lock everything down before Lucia could think straight. He typed back. "Keep monitoring. I want to know everything." He put the phone down. Looked at the monitor again. Lucia. Thirty-three years he'd loved her. Thirty-three years of watching from the shadows. He was seven when he met her. She was seven too. First day of second grade. New kid. Poor kid. His clothes were too big. Hand-me-downs from his older cousin. The other kids laughed. Called him trash. Said he smelled. Then Lucia stood up. Tiny thing with wild hair and a voice that didn't match her size. "Shut up. All of you. He's new and you're being mean." She sat next to him that day. Every day after that. Her family had money. Big house. Nice cars. But she never cared that he had nothing. They were inseparable. Did everything together. Then high school happened. Sixteen years old. She was laughing at something stupid he said. He looked at her and. Oh. Oh no. He fell in love with her that day. Never told her. How could he? She was Lucia Hart. Beautiful. Smart. Rich family. He was Alex Kane. Poor kid with holes in his shoes and a drunk father. So he stayed quiet. Stayed her best friend. Died a little every time she talked about other boys. Then college. Marco showed up. Marco with his car and his clothes and his confidence. Marco who could give her everything Alex couldn't. She fell for him. Fast. Talked about him constantly. Alex listened. Smiled. Pretended his heart wasn't breaking. When she got engaged, he couldn't anymore. Couldn't watch her marry someone else. So he left. Changed his number. Moved cities. Built his company from nothing. Turned heartbreak into empire. And he watched her. Always. Hired Thomas five years after her wedding. Just to check. Make sure she was okay. Reports came. Photos. Updates. Lucia looked content. Three kids. Nice house. He told himself that was enough. She was happy. That mattered. But he kept the reports coming. Couldn't stop. Couldn't let go. Then last week Thomas called. "You need to see this." Photos of Marco. With Margaret. Coming out of hotels. Kissing in parking lots. "How long?" Alex asked. "Two years. Maybe more." His blood boiled. "Find out everything. I want dates. Times. Proof." Thomas delivered. Marco was planning to leave Lucia. Their anniversary party. Public humiliation. Alex tried to stop it. Drove to the venue. But he was too late. People were leaving. Talking. Gossiping. "Did you see her face?" "So embarrassing." He grabbed someone. "Where did Lucia go?" "She ran out. In the rain." He searched. Drove through streets. Panicking. Then he saw her. On the bridge. Climbing the railing. His heart stopped. He ran. Grabbed her wrist just as she fell. And now she was here. In his house. A second chance. He didn't deserve it. But he had her here. That's what mattered. A knock on his office door. "Dad?" Lena. He unlocked the door. She walked in. Looked at him. "You didn't sleep," she said. "I'm fine." "You always say that." She sat across from his desk. "We need to talk about Lucia." "What about her?" "I saw your face this morning. When you looked at her. I've never seen you look at anyone like that. Not even Mom." Alex's chest tightened. "Lena." "Tell me the truth. Who is she?" He sat down. "We were friends. I told you that." "Friends don't look at each other the way you looked at her." Smart kid. Too smart. "She was my best friend. Growing up." "And?" "And I fell in love with her. In high school." Lena leaned forward. "Did you tell her?" "No." "Why not?" "Because I was poor. She was rich. I had nothing." "That's stupid." "Maybe. But that's how it felt." Alex looked at his hands. "Then she met Marco in college. He had everything I didn't." "So you left." "Yeah." "And now she's here." "Yeah." "Do you still love her?" The question hung there. Heavy. "Yeah," Alex whispered. "I never stopped." Lena was quiet. Then. "How did you find her last night? On that bridge?" Alex went cold. "What?" "You just happened to be driving by? That's a pretty big coincidence, Dad." He couldn't lie to her. "I've been keeping track of her. For years. Through an investigator." Lena's eyes widened. "You've been stalking her?" "Not stalking. Making sure she was okay." "Dad. That's literally stalking." "I know. I know it sounds bad. But I needed to know she was safe." "And when you found out about Marco cheating?" "I tried to stop it. Tried to get there before he humiliated her. But I was too late." "So you went looking for her." "Thomas said she left the party. I drove around. Then I saw her on the bridge." Lena stood. Walked to the window. "This is a lot, Dad." "I know." "Does she know? About the investigator? About you watching her?" "No. And she can't know. Not now." "You have to tell her eventually." "I know." "If she finds out on her own, she'll hate you." "I know that too." Alex stood. Walked over to his daughter. "But right now, she needs stability. Not more chaos. Not more betrayal." "You think she'll see it as betrayal?" "Probably." "Do you think she ever loved you? Back then?" The question hurt. He'd asked himself that a thousand times. "I don't know. She never said anything. Never gave any sign." "Or maybe she did love you and you were both too scared to say it." Worse thought. That they could have had something. That he'd wasted years because he was a coward. "Doesn't matter now," Alex said. "She's healing. That's important." "When are you going to tell her?" Lena asked. "About your feelings? About everything?" "Not now." "When?" "I don't know. When she's stronger." "What if she's never ready?" "Then I'll keep it to myself. Like I have for thirty-three years." Lena turned to face him. "That's sad, Dad." "Maybe. But her happiness matters more." "Mom knew, didn't she? About Lucia?" Alex nodded. "Yeah. Sandra knew." "Did she mind?" "She said she didn't. Said she understood. That people carry ghosts. That loving someone unavailable doesn't mean you can't love someone else." "Do you think she was happy? With you?" "I hope so. I tried to make her happy. I really did love her, Lena. Your mom was incredible. Patient. Kind." "But?" "But she wasn't Lucia." The words came out broken. "And that's not fair. To her memory. To you. But it's the truth." Lena walked over. Hugged him. "I'm not mad, Dad. I just want you to be happy. Really happy." "I am happy. I have you." "You know what I mean." He did. "Give it time," he said. "Let Lucia heal. Then maybe." "Promise me you'll tell her. Eventually. About everything." "Lena." "Promise me, Dad. She deserves the truth." He closed his eyes. "I promise. When the time is right." "Good." She pulled back. "Now go shower. You smell like stress." He laughed. First real laugh in days. "I'm serious. Go. I'll make sure Lucia has everything she needs." "Don't tell her anything." "I won't. But you will. Soon." She left. Alex walked back to his desk. Looked at the monitor. Lucia was awake. Sitting on the edge of the bed. Looking lost. His heart ached. Thirty-three years he'd loved her. Thirty-three years of silence. Maybe Lena was right. Maybe he needed to tell her. But not now. Not when she was broken. He'd wait. Be patient. Be there. And hope. Hope that eventually she might see him as more than just her childhood friend who saved her life. Hope that eventually she might love him back. But even if she didn't. He'd still be here. Still protect her. Because that's what you did when you loved someone. You stayed. Even when it hurt. Even when it was hopeless. You stayed. Chapter 5 Lucia sat on the bed. Her phone in her hand. Staring at the screen. She shouldn't do this. She knew she shouldn't. But her fingers moved anyway. Opening Instagram. Typing in Ria's username. The profile loaded. Public. Of course. Photos filled the screen. Recent ones. From yesterday. Her breath caught. There. A video. Posted three hours ago. She clicked it. Laughter came first. Happy laughter. Then the image loaded. Marco. Margaret. And all three kids. Sitting around a table. Pizza boxes open. Everyone smiling. "Say hi to everyone!" Ria's voice. She was recording. "Hi!" Monica waved at the camera. Big smile. Lucas gave a thumbs up. Grinning. Margaret leaned into Marco. "We're having the best family night!" Family night. Lucia's hands shook. "Margaret makes the best homemade cookies," Monica said. "Way better than Mom's store bought ones." The words stabbed. "And she actually listens when we talk," Ria added. "Like really listens. Not just pretending while looking at her phone." Lucia never looked at her phone during conversations. Never. "Plus she's cool," Lucas said. "She gets us. You know?" Margaret laughed. Kissed Marco's cheek. "These kids are amazing. I'm so lucky." The video ended. Lucia stared at the black screen. Her reflection stared back. Pale. Hollow. She scrolled down. More photos. Margaret braiding Monica's hair. Margaret and Ria shopping. Matching bags. Lucas teaching Margaret how to play video games. All posted today. Captions about how wonderful Margaret was. Not one mention of Lucia. Her chest hurt. Like something inside was tearing. She kept scrolling. Couldn't stop. Another video. Margaret's account. "My new family!" Margaret's voice. Cheerful. Sweet. The camera panned. Marco cooking. The kids setting the table. "I've always wanted kids," Margaret said. "And now I have three perfect ones. Dreams really do come true!" Lucia's phone slipped from her fingers. Fell onto the bed. She couldn't breathe. They replaced her. Two days. Two days and they'd already replaced her. A sound came from her throat. Half sob. Half scream. She grabbed a pillow. Pressed it to her face. Maybe they were right. Maybe she was a bad mother. Maybe Margaret was better. No. No. But look at them. Look how happy they were. The tears came. Loud. Ugly. A knock on the door. Soft. She didn't answer. The door opened anyway. "Lucia?" Alex. She couldn't look at him. "Hey." His voice got closer. "What happened?" She shook her head. The bed dipped. He sat beside her. "Talk to me," he said. She lowered the pillow. Her face was wet. "I looked at their social media," she whispered. "The kids." Alex's jaw tightened. "What did you see?" "They're with Marco. And her. Margaret. They posted videos. They look. They look so." She couldn't say it. Alex picked up her phone. Looked at the screen. His face went hard. "This is cruel," he said. "Maybe it's true." The words came out broken. "Maybe I was a terrible mother. Maybe they're better off." "Stop." "Look at them, Alex. They don't miss me at all." "They're kids being manipulated." "They chose her." "They chose what's easier. That doesn't make you bad." Lucia pulled her knees to her chest. "I should call them. Maybe if I just. If I explain." "Explain what? They don't want to hear it." The bluntness hurt. But it was true. She grabbed her phone. Opened it. Stared at Monica's number. What would she even say? Please love me again? Please remember I'm your mother? Her finger hovered over the call button. "Don't," Alex said quietly. She put the phone down. Face down. Alex was quiet. Then he stood. Walked to the window. "I have an idea," he said. "But you'll probably think I'm insane." She looked up. "What?" He turned to face her. Hesitated. Like he was debating something. "Disappear," he finally said. "What?" "Leave. Go somewhere far. Reinvent yourself. Come back when you're ready." "I can't just leave." "Why not? What's keeping you here?" The question hung there. What was keeping her? Nothing. Nobody wanted her here. "Where would I even go?" she asked. Alex took a breath. "Germany. I have a villa there. Countryside. Quiet. You could stay as long as you need." Germany. Another country. "And do what?" "Learn. Transform." He walked back over. Sat on the bed again. "I can teach you about business. Finance. How money works. You could come back different. Stronger." "Why would I need to know about business?" Alex hesitated again. Like he was afraid to tell her. "Marco is hiding assets offshore," he finally said. Lucia stared at him. "What?" "I had Thomas dig deeper. Marco has accounts in the Cayman Islands. Properties under shell companies. He's been planning this." Her stomach turned. "How long?" "At least five years." Five years. "The affair. The quick wedding. It's all calculated." Alex's voice was steady. "He wants to marry Margaret fast. Lock everything down before you can do anything." "He's going to marry her?" "Already applied for the license. Wedding next month." Next month. Their divorce wasn't even final. "How do you know all this?" she asked. "Thomas is good at his job." "You've been investigating Marco?" "Yes." She should be angry. Should feel violated. But she just felt. Tired. "What else?" "Marco's company. I own shares. Thirty percent." Lucia looked at him. "Thirty?" "I'm the second largest shareholder. Marco doesn't know. The shares are under a holding company." "Why are you telling me this?" Alex looked down at his hands. "Because I can help you. If you want. I can give you leverage. Information. Everything you need to fight back." Fight back. She'd never fought back against anything. "I don't know how to fight," she said. "I'll teach you." "In Germany." "Yes." She stood up. Walked to the window. Looked out at the gardens. Six months in another country. Learning things she didn't understand. Coming back. For what? "What if I come back and nothing changes?" she asked. "What if I'm still nobody? What if they still don't want me?" "Then at least you'll be somebody who chose to fight." "But what if I don't want to fight? What if I just want my kids back?" The words cracked on the way out. Alex stood. Walked over. Stood beside her. "You can't make people love you," he said quietly. "Not even your kids. But you can make them respect you. You can make them regret what they did." "Is that enough?" "I don't know. But it's better than this." She looked at him. Really looked. He looked scared. Like he was afraid she'd say no. Like this mattered to him more than he was saying. "Why do you care so much?" she asked. He opened his mouth. Closed it. Looked away. "Because you deserve better," he finally said. "You always did." The air between them felt charged. "If I do this," she said slowly. "If I go. What happens to me?" "What do you mean?" "I'll be alone. In a foreign country. Learning things I don't understand. What if I can't do it? What if I fail?" "You won't." "You don't know that." "No. But I believe it." She wanted to believe it too. But believing meant hoping. And hoping meant risking more pain. "I'm scared," she whispered. "I know." "What if they're right about me? What if I really am that terrible?" "You're not." "How do you know?" "Because I've known you for thirty-three years. And you've never been terrible. Not once." The words hit something in her chest. She looked back out the window. The sun was setting. Orange and pink. Tomorrow she could leave. Start over. Become someone new. Or she could stay. Keep crying. Keep checking their social media. Keep hurting. She thought about Monica's laugh in that video. Lucas's smile. Ria's happiness. They were fine without her. Better even. Something inside her shifted. Hardened. "Okay," she said. "Okay?" "Yeah. Germany. All of it." Alex's face changed. Relief. "You won't regret this." "I already regret everything else." He almost smiled. She looked down at her phone. Still on the bed. Still showing her kids with someone else. "I want them to see," she said. Voice quiet. "I want them to see me different. Strong. Someone they can't ignore." "They will." "And Marco. I want him to know he made a mistake." "He will." She didn't know if she believed him. But she wanted to. "When do we leave?" she asked. "Two days. I need to arrange some things first." Two days. "What about Lena?" "She's excited. Already packing." Of course she was. Lucia picked up her phone. Looked at it one last time. Then she deleted Instagram. Done watching. Done hurting. "Teach me everything," she said. Looking at Alex. "I want to know how to win." "I will." Outside, the sun disappeared. Darkness came. But for the first time in days, Lucia didn't feel afraid of it. She felt ready for it. Chapter 6 Sleep refused to come. Lucia paced her bedroom, bare feet silent on thick carpet. Each passing minute brought images she couldn't escape. Marco. Margaret. The kids. She paused at the window, pressing her palm against the cool glass. The gardens stretched out below, dark and quiet. Germany. A new identity. The chance to rebuild. Images from the past days swirled in her mind. Marco's cold face at the anniversary party. Margaret's victorious smile. The kids choosing her. Choosing to discard their own mother. She moved to the dresser where she had left her phone. Picked it up. Put it down. Picked it up again. One call. That's all it would take. One call to Monica. To beg. To plead. Please remember I'm your mother. But what would that accomplish? They'd made their choice. Clearly. Publicly. Cruelly. Lucia set the phone down, turning instead to face the mirror. The woman staring back looked hollow. Defeated. Used up. Is this who she was now? Who she'd always been? A woman so easily replaced? No. Not anymore. The truth hit her with sudden clarity. Marco hadn't just taken her marriage. He'd stolen her children. Poisoned them against her. Made them participants in her destruction. They needed to learn. All of them. That people couldn't be discarded without consequences. Morning found Lucia seated in the kitchen. She had dressed in the borrowed clothes, simple t-shirt and jeans. Her hair hung loose around her face. She heard footsteps and looked up to see Alex approaching. He carried two mugs, steam rising. "Couldn't sleep?" he asked, offering her one of the mugs. "No." She accepted the coffee, grateful for its warmth. Alex sat across from her at the island. "Did you think about what we discussed?" Lucia took a deep breath. "I want to leave today." Alex looked at her. "Today?" "Yes. I can't stay here anymore. Every second in this city, I feel like I'm drowning." "We can leave today," Alex said. "I'll make the arrangements." Relief washed through her. "Thank you." "What about your belongings? From the house?" The thought of going back there made her stomach turn. "I don't want anything from that place." "You'll need clothes." "Then I'll get new ones. In Germany. I want a completely fresh start." Alex studied her face. "You're sure?" "I've never been more sure of anything." Lucia's voice was steady. "For seventeen years, I've been living half a life. Being what Marco wanted. What the kids needed. What everyone expected. I forgot how to be just Lucia." "And now?" "Now I want to remember." She set her mug down. "I want to discover who I am without them. And then I want them to see that woman when it's too late." Alex nodded slowly. "It won't be easy." "I don't want easy." Lucia stood, restless energy filling her. "I want to grow. I want to transform. I want..." "Justice," Alex supplied quietly. She met his gaze. "Yes. Is that wrong?" "No." He rose to stand before her. "It's human. They hurt you deliberately. Wanting them to feel consequences doesn't make you a bad person." "Monica laughed," Lucia whispered. "My baby. She laughed when I signed those papers." Alex's hands twitched at his sides. "Children can be cruel." "This wasn't childish thoughtlessness. This was calculated." Her voice hardened. "They participated in destroying me. And they need to learn I won't be destroyed so easily." A smile curved Alex's lips. "There she is. The Lucia I remember. The fighter." "Was I? A fighter?" Lucia searched his face. "Sometimes I can't remember who I was before Marco." "You were magnificent," Alex said simply. "Fierce. The girl who defended me against bullies. Who stood up for what was right." His words sparked something inside her. A memory of the girl she had been. The one with dreams. The one who didn't back down. "I want to be her again," Lucia said. "Not exactly the same. But I want to find that strength. That sense of self." Alex nodded. "Then that's what we'll do. We can leave this afternoon. The villa is ready." "What about my legal situation? The divorce?" "My attorneys can handle everything. Marco won't be able to rush through without proper proceedings." "And my things from the house?" "I could send someone to retrieve them. Marco wouldn't know." The offer tempted her. Her books. Her photos. Small treasures. But something stopped her. "No," she said finally. "Let them go. They're part of the old Lucia. She doesn't exist anymore." Alex studied her. "Some of those things have sentimental value." Lucia thought of the photo albums. The children's artwork. Family souvenirs. Each one a knife now. "The memories aren't in the objects. They're here." She touched her chest. "I'm taking them with me. Both the good and the bad." Alex nodded, respect in his gaze. "I'll tell Lena our plans." "Lena is coming?" "She insisted. She's quite taken with you." The words touched Lucia deeply. This girl who barely knew her cared more than her own children. Footsteps on the stairs. Lena appeared, face brightening when she spotted them. "You're both up early!" Alex turned to his daughter. "Lucia has decided to come with us. We're leaving this afternoon." Lena's eyes widened. "Really? That's amazing!" She rushed forward to hug Lucia. "You won't regret it." Lucia returned the embrace, surprised by how natural it felt. "I'm glad you're coming." "I wouldn't miss it." Lena stepped back. "What about Marco and the kids?" The direct question might have seemed insensitive from anyone else. "I don't know exactly," Lucia admitted. "I know I want consequences. I know I want them to realize what they threw away. But the exact form..." She shook her head. "I need time." Lena nodded. "The best plans aren't rushed. They're crafted carefully." Alex shot his daughter a look. "Lena." "What? I'm just being honest." Lena shrugged. "Lucia deserves justice." "It's alright," Lucia assured Alex. "She's right. I don't want blind revenge. I want them to face the natural consequences of their choices. To realize exactly what they lost." The conversation shifted to practicalities. What Lucia would need. How long they might stay. Managing the divorce remotely. Throughout the discussion, Lucia felt something shifting inside her. Each decision removed another weight from her shoulders. She was choosing her path now. Not following Marco's lead or the kids' needs. For the first time in years, Lucia was putting herself first. After breakfast, she returned to her room. Her few belongings fit into the small bag Alex had given her. The physical reminder of how little she had left was sobering. But also freeing. She was traveling light into her new life. Unburdened. As she zipped the bag, Lucia caught sight of her reflection. The woman gazing back seemed different already. Posture straighter. Eyes clearer. Jaw set with determination. Not yet the woman she would become. But no longer the woman Marco had discarded. This afternoon, she would board a plane to Germany. Would begin remaking herself far from their reach. Would learn about business, about power, about strength. And one day, when she was ready, when she had transformed, she would return. Would face Marco and the children not as the desperate woman they cast aside, but as someone they barely recognized. Someone they underestimated. Someone who survived and emerged stronger. They thought they knew Lucia Hart. Soon, they would meet Lucia Smith. And nothing would ever be the same. -------------- There are limited chapters to put here, click “learn more” to open App to continue reading (It will automatically jump to the book)