Cecilia's pov

The rain had stopped by the time I drove off the property.

In the rearview mirror, the gates of Blood Moon Pack disappeared.

For the first time in eight years, I felt true relief.

Pulling out my cell phone, I sent Dora a message, "Dear Dora, I assume you've received that little surprise. Remember our agreement - the five million must be transferred into my account by noon tomorrow. Otherwise, I don't mind letting everyone know how the Luna of Blood Moon Pack pulled dirty tricks against a human daughter-in-law."

The phone quickly vibrated. Dora's reply came surprisingly fast, "You bitch!"

I laughed softly and sent another message, "Is the tea hot enough? If it needs more heat, I can always come back and add some fuel to the fire."

Turning off my cell phone, I took a deep breath. I might be destined to be the underdog in this game with the wolves, but I would never make it easy for them. Xavier betrayed me, Dora humiliated me, so in return, I would make them pay what they owe.

Money? It was pocket change to them. But it was worth the deal to make that arrogant Luna suffer, and to show the man who betrayed me what his mother really was.

"Goodbye, Blood Moon Pack," I said, hitting the gas.

...

The road stretched before me as I drove through the increasingly heavy rain. My thoughts scattered like the droplets hitting my windshield, memories of eight years flashing through my mind-eight years of being treated like garbage, eight years of hoping for a mating ceremony that would never come.

Suddenly, a flash caught my eye as a yellow motorcycle cut dangerously in front of my car. My heart jumped into my throat as I slammed on the brakes.

BANG--

The impact came from behind, sending me flying forward. My forehead connected with the steering wheel hard. Sharp pain radiated from my temple, and when I looked up, everything was blurred red.

I grabbed a tissue and frantically wiped the blood from my eyes. The yellow motorcycle was long gone, vanished into the downpour like a ghost.

"Tap, tap-"

Someone was at my window. I lowered it, raindrops immediately splashing onto my lap.

Outside stood a classy-looking man in his early fifties, wearing glasses and holding a sleek black umbrella. His expression conveyed genuine regret-something I hadn't seen from a wolf in forever.

"Miss, I'm terribly sorry. We're totally at fault for rear-ending you," he said with unexpected politeness. "My employer is in a rush. Would you consider exchanging contact information? You can send us a list of damages, and I assure you we'll take care of everything."

"I'd prefer to call the cops," I replied, my voice strained.

The day's events had pushed me past my breaking point-the confrontation at Xavier's, discovering his betrayal, and now this accident.

I was done playing nice today and didn't have the extra energy to accommodate anyone.

I stepped out into the rain, wincing as droplets hit my wound. The back of my car had a huge dent where the Bentley had smashed into it.

Annoyed, I took photos for evidence and called the police.

The man accepted my decision without argument and returned to the Bentley to report to whoever waited inside.

The rain got worse, pounding against the pavement. My white blouse clung to my skin as I stood exposed to the elements, one hand pressed against my bleeding temple while I spoke with 911.

I returned to my car to escape the downpour, but my clothes were already completely soaked. Within minutes, police arrived, followed by a silver Maybach that pulled up at the same time.

Stepping out again into the rain, I noticed another person exiting the Bentley besides the older man-a tall, lean figure with a silhouette like a Greek god. With aristocratic indifference, his eyes were sharp and deep, in which something wild underneath.

When he caught me staring, he returned my gaze with an intensity that made me shiver, awakening something primal within me.

A weird sense of déjà vu washed over me...

"Give it to her," his deep voice commanded, removing the suit jacket from his arm and handing it to the older man. Without another glance in my direction, he strode to the Maybach and disappeared inside.

The older gentleman hurried over with the jacket. "Miss, you're drenched. Please take this."

Looking down, I realized with horror that my blouse had become see-through. Heat rushed to my cheeks as I gratefully accepted the jacket and slipped it on. "Thank you."

The older gentleman spoke quietly with the police officer while the Maybach drove off, cutting through the curtain of rain. I caught only a fleeting glimpse of the stranger's refined profile, but it stuck with me.

The jacket still held his body heat and carried a distinct scent-sandalwood mixed with something wild and untamed that instantly calmed my frayed nerves.

After the police finished their report and we exchanged information, the older gentleman offered to take me to the hospital for my head wound.

I declined politely, my initial anger having subsided. "I apologize for being such a pain earlier. I've had the worst day, and I took it out on you. It wasn't even your fault." I gestured to the jacket. "I'll have this cleaned and returned to you."

The older gentleman nodded graciously.

...

As I drove myself to the hospital, Xavier was blowing up my phone.

I laughed coldly - this man was always like that, vanishing when I needed him, and then showing up when I didn't want to see him. Just like now, knowing that I hated his "white knight" attitude, he had to play hero at a time like this.

After eight years, he never learned to understand me, or rather, he couldn't be bothered to understand the feelings of a human being. When he should have been by my side, he chose someone else; when I had already decided to let go, he acted like he cared.

What a clueless idiot.

Cecilia's pov

I sat in the emergency treatment room, wincing slightly as the doctor cleaned the cut on my forehead. The antiseptic stung, but it was nothing compared to the emotional wounds I'd been nursing all day.

Suddenly, the door burst open with such force that the doctor jumped. Xavier stormed in like a territorial alpha defending his claim, his eyes wild with a mixture of anger and concern. The scent of his distress and dominance filled the small room instantly.

I glanced over my shoulder, meeting his intense gaze. "It's okay," I assured the startled doctor. "He's my... boss." The word 'husband' had nearly slipped out from habit, but I caught myself. He wasn't my husband-he never truly had been.

Xavier's throat worked visibly, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed whatever words he'd been about to growl out.

"How serious is it?" he demanded of the doctor, his voice rough with an emotion I couldn't quite place.

"Just a superficial wound," the doctor replied professionally. "Nothing to worry about."

The medical professional showed no interest in our complicated relationship, finishing up the bandage on my temple before prescribing some topical medication.

I thanked the doctor and left the room, feeling Xavier's presence behind me like a shadow. In the hallway, he pushed ahead to pay my bill and collect my medication, performing the role of the dutiful husband with an audience present. The irony wasn't lost on me.

I didn't bother arguing. What was the point? My bond with Xavier had been severed the moment I'd seen those messages on his phone.

Outside the hospital, I pulled out my phone to call a rideshare. Xavier snatched it from my hand with the swift reflexes. His arm wrapped around my shoulders, guiding-no, forcing-me toward the parking lot. The possessive gesture might once have made me feel protected; now it felt like chains.

He opened the passenger door and practically shoved me inside before stalking around to the driver's side. The door slammed with enough force to make the car shudder, sealing us in a bubble of tense silence.

"You blocked my number," he finally said, turning to face me with a stormy expression. "Were you trying to kill yourself to punish me?"

I stared at him, momentarily shocked into silence. Then, against all odds, laughter bubbled up from my chest. It was either laugh or cry, and I'd shed enough tears.

The absurdity of his statement-that I would risk my life just to make him feel guilty-was peak narcissism. In eight years together, how had I never noticed this side of him?

"Rest assured," I said, reaching for my phone, "you won't have that burden on your conscience. Now give me back my phone."

Xavier pulled it away from my grasp. "I admit I lied to you today, but you ignored her like air, embarrassed her. You even disrespected my mother! Don't you think that's a problem? She's just a young girl who's been spoiled all her life. Why take offense?"

Oh, Xavier. If only you could see yourself through my eyes right now.

After a long silence, I spoke, my voice hollow. "I won't confront her anymore. I won't interfere with whatever is between you two. But please, keep her away from me. I don't need her 'spontaneity' in my face."

"She's like a sister to me. Cici and I are brother and sister." Xavier insisted, his brows furrowing. "Wolves are loyal to their mates. Our relationship is not what you think it is."

"Mmm,loyalty," I echoed, fighting the urge to pull out my phone and show him the evidence I'd collected-the late-night calls, the intimate texts, the hotel receipts.

"Fine. I overreacted. I misunderstood. Congratulations on your new sister."

The cold silence hung between us like a physical barrier.

"Just drive," I said, wrapping the borrowed suit jacket tighter around myself. The fabric carried that intoxicating scent-sandalwood with wild undertones-that somehow brought me comfort.

Xavier's gaze shifted to the jacket, noticing it properly for the first time. His nostrils flared slightly-a wolf sensing another male's scent on his territory.

"Whose jacket is this?" he demanded, jealousy darkening his features.

I turned toward the window, deliberately using his own words against him. "My brother's. My newly adopted brother."

Something dangerous flashed in Xavier's eyes. With lightning speed, he reached over and yanked the jacket from my shoulders, throwing it out the window .

"No!" I shouted, unbuckling my seatbelt and scrambling out of the car. That jacket was one of the few kindnesses I'd experienced today. I'd promised to return it.

Xavier growled low in his throat and pulled me back into the car. Before I could protest, his mouth crushed against mine, demanding submission.

I kept my lips firmly sealed, refusing to yield. This only angered him more. He gripped my jaw, forcing my mouth open, his kiss a punishment rather than an expression of love.

When he finally pulled away, his breath was hot against my face, his eyes glinting with possessive fury. "Don't try to make me jealous like that," he warned. "You should think about how your actions affect others."

I stared at him in disbelief. In all our years together, I'd never truly seen this side of him-or perhaps I'd chosen not to.

The jacket remained on the wet asphalt, abandoned.

I promised I'd return it clean, I thought hopelessly. Now what am I supposed to do?

The weekend's events took their toll on my body. By evening, I was burning with fever, my human immune system weakened by stress and the rain.

Xavier stayed home, playing the role of attentive mate-making porridge,feeding me medicine, caring for me with such tenderness that for brief, delirious moments ,I almost believed he still loved me. Almost.

By midnight, my fever hadn't broken. I drifted in and out of consciousness ,aware of Xavier's presence beside me on our bed-a bed that no longer felt like a sanctuary.

A buzzing sound cut through the silence.

I forced my heavy eyelids open, pushing myself up on trembling arms. Xavier and I both turned toward his phone on the nightstand. The time read 12:35 AM.

The name flashing on the screen: "Sugar Baby."

Such an intimate nickname. My stomach twisted with nausea that had nothing to do with my fever.

Cecilia's pov

I said nothing as Xavier's phone continued to light up with that shameless nickname. The vibration seemed to echo through our bedroom like an accusation.

Xavier's handsome face maintained a facade of composure, but I could see the subtle tension in his jaw, the slight twitch near his eye.

The phone wouldn't stop-calls turned to video chat requests, then transformed into an avalanche of text messages, each notification more demanding than the last. Bold. Shameless. Like she knew exactly where he was and didn't care that he was with me.

The tension between us was so thick you could cut it with a knife in the darkness of our bedroom.

"Aren't you going to answer it?" I asked, my voice cool as winter frost.

Only then did Xavier reach for his phone. Without even glancing at the screen, he powered it off and placed it back on the nightstand-a performance meant to reassure me.

He reached over, placing his palm against my forehead. "You're still running a slight fever," he said softly. "It's nothing to worry about. Go to sleep. I'll watch over you."

I lay back down and closed my eyes, my body rigid despite my apparent surrender.

An hour later, I made my breathing steady to mimic sleep, listening intently as Xavier retrieved his phone. His footsteps were soft as he moved toward the balcony, his phone quietly beeping as it powered on.

"Are you okay? Don't worry, don't be scared. I'm coming right over..." His voice was a hushed whisper, yet to my ears, it might as well have been shouting.

He returned to the bedroom, grabbed his jacket, and left.

The moment the door closed, my eyes snapped open. I had never been asleep.

What was I still hoping for? A cheater is like a bad apple - once they start rotting, it only gets worse.

At half past four in the morning, Xavier returned.

Seeing me seemingly asleep, he let out a sigh of relief. He approached, touched my forehead gently, satisfied that my fever had broken.

He headed to the bathroom. I listened to the shower running, the sound of water hitting tile mingling with my own bitter thoughts. When he emerged wearing his robe, he slid into bed beside me, his arm wrapping possessively around my waist as though nothing had changed between us.

After his breathing deepened into sleep, I carefully removed his arm and sat up. I studied his sleeping form with cold detachment-the handsome features I once adored, his thin lips, the sensual curve of his Adam's apple, and then...

My gaze locked onto the row of small, distinctive bite marks along his collarbone.

At that moment, the most violent thought crossed my mind: to stab him through the heart with a sterling silver dagger, so that this arrogant Alpha would know firsthand what true pain means.

...

When Xavier awoke, I was already downstairs. I had donned an apron and prepared breakfast for both of us, calling him to come eat as if it were any ordinary morning.

"Your fever just broke. Why didn't you sleep in?" Xavier approached, reaching to check my temperature.

I subtly shifted away from his touch. "It was just a minor cold. Nothing serious."

I removed my apron and sat down at the table. Xavier looked at his empty hand, momentarily awkward, but seemed reassured by my calm demeanor. He joined me at the table.

"I want to run something by you," I began, my tone deliberately light.

"What is it?" he asked, taking a sip of his juice.

"I want to quit my job at the company."

My words clearly caught him off guard. Before he could ask why, I continued: "I've been focused on nothing but work for years. I'm burnt out. I want to experience what it's like to live the pampered life of a wealthy alpha's mate for once."

Xavier studied me, trying to figure out if I was serious.

"Are you pulling my leg?" he questioned.

"I'm dead serious," I replied with a smile that didn't reach my eyes. "What, do you think I'm some kind of masochist who doesn't know how to enjoy life?"

After consideration, he agreed. "Taking a break from work might be good for you. You can stay home. We could use this opportunity to try for a pup."

I smiled noncommittally. Inside, I was seething. *Right, that's your master plan, isn't it? Make me your breeding machine while you continue your nightly escapades with your "Sugar Baby." Keep dreaming, Xavier.*

"I'll put in my two weeks' notice in the next few days. I'm thinking of traveling to Europe-I've made plans with Harper. It's been ages since I've traveled."

"Her law firm isn't keeping her swamped? She has time to travel with you?" His tone was slightly suspicious.

"Oh, she's crazy busy," I said, my smile bright and false. "She's clearing her schedule for me."

Xavier fell silent, his wheels clearly turning.

After a moment, he spoke again. "A trip would be good for you. I'll take care of all the arrangements. You won't need to worry about a thing. Just enjoy yourself."

I maintained my smile, neither accepting nor declining his offer. By then, I'll be long gone.

The wound on my forehead was too conspicuous, and I didn't want to show up at the office looking like a victim during my resignation. I took a few additional days off.

With time to kill, I methodically packed my clothes, shoes, and personal items, moving them bit by bit to my new home.

Little by little, the closets were visibly emptying-anyone paying the slightest attention would notice.

But Xavier remained completely clueless.

I even took our wedding photo out to the yard to burn it while he was home. He was glued to his phone, alternating between quiet laughter and typing responses to whoever held his attention.

If only he'd bothered to glance through the floor-to-ceiling windows at his mate...

I stood in the fading sunset, watching him smile at his phone, observing him for a long time.

When the lighter finally burned my fingertips, I let go as if finally releasing hope.

The flames consumed the gasoline, illuminating the wedding photo in the metal barrel. In the picture, I looked so sweet, so happy, and his eyes were full of nothing but me... Then slowly, our faces distorted, melted, and finally turned into a pile of black ashes...

A sudden sense of suffocation constricted my chest. I stared at those ashes, my vision blurring with unshed tears.

"What are you burning?"

Xavier finally noticed the activity outside and came out.

I tilted my head back, pushing down the emotions threatening to overwhelm me. "Nothing important, just some..." I turned to look at him, my slightly reddened eyes contradicting the gentle smile on my lips. "Trash."

Xavier glanced at the barrel sending up thick black smoke, regarding me as if I'd lost my mind. "If it's trash, why not just throw it away?"

"Burning gets rid of it for good," I replied simply.

His brow furrowed in confusion.

We stood there in the yard without speaking, as the last trace of light on the horizon was swallowed by darkness-much like the last of my hope being consumed by truth.