Vivian POV

I had to get out. The penthouse felt like a gilded cage rapidly shrinking around me. I grabbed my purse, my fingers brushing against the hidden zipper pocket where the ultrasound photo lay—the only proof of the fragile life growing inside me. I planned to slip out through the private elevator and take the subway to the Sterling Corp tower. I needed to avoid Alpha Julian Sterling at all costs.

But the Moon Goddess had a cruel sense of humor.

The moment the elevator doors slid open in the subterranean garage, I froze. Julian was standing by his black Maybach, his bespoke suit immaculate, his expression an impenetrable mask of ice. Stone, his Gamma and driver, stood silently by the open rear door.

"Get in," Julian commanded. It wasn't a request. The subtle, crushing weight of his Alpha aura pressed against my chest, a physical force demanding compliance.

"I can take the train," I managed to say, my voice tight.

"Don't be difficult, Vivian. We are going to the same building." He gestured to the dark interior of the car. "Get in."

I obeyed, sliding onto the expensive black leather. The heavy door clicked shut, sealing us in a soundproof tomb. The air inside was instantly suffocating. It wasn't just his overwhelming scent of winter storm and ancient pine; it was the sickeningly sweet, artificial stench of hothouse orchids clinging to his clothes. Serena.

As Stone navigated the Maybach into the chaotic Manhattan traffic, the silence between us stretched, taut and agonizing. Julian didn't look at me. He stared at his tablet, his jaw clenched.

"We need to finalize the transition quickly," he said, his voice devoid of any emotion. "You have to understand, Vivian, our marriage was never about a true bond. You were a ward of the Sterling Pack. A responsibility placed on me by my grandfather and the Elders to maintain stability."

His words were dipped in silver, slicing through my chest. *A responsibility.*

"My duty is fulfilled," he continued, swiping a finger across his screen. "The Pack is secure. You are well-provided for. You are free to find someone... more suited to your nature."

A wolfless Omega. That was what he meant. He was discarding me like a completed charity project, completely oblivious to the fact that I was carrying his Alpha heir. I clutched my purse tighter, my knuckles turning white. The sheer gaslighting of his speech made my stomach churn. He was rewriting our three years of marriage into a burden he had graciously borne.

Desperate for a distraction from his voice and the suffocating scent of his mistress, I pulled out my phone. I opened Instagram, hoping mindless scrolling would keep my tears at bay.

The algorithm, however, was merciless. The first post on my feed was from *@SerenaChaseOfficial*.

It was a photo posted two hours ago. A close-up of two hands intertwined over a white tablecloth. The background was a rainy London street, but the location tag proudly declared: *The Pierre Hotel, New York*.

My breath hitched. On the man's wrist was a custom Patek Philippe watch. I knew every scratch on that platinum band. I had spent six months tracking it down for Julian's birthday, a gift he had barely acknowledged.

But that wasn't the killing blow. Beneath the photo, among the thousands of likes, was a familiar handle: *Arch_J_S*.

It was Julian's private account, a secret identity he used to monitor the human business world. An account I had only discovered by accident a year ago. He had liked her photo. He was sitting right next to me, coldly discussing my dismissal as a "responsibility," while wearing my gift to court his former lover.

The last fragile thread of my broken heart snapped, instantly replaced by a wave of pure, unadulterated disgust.

The Maybach glided to a halt in front of the towering glass and steel structure of the Sterling Corp tower. Before Stone could even put the car in park, I shoved the door open and stumbled onto the busy sidewalk.

"I'll find my own way home tonight," I choked out, not looking back.

"Don't be dramatic, Vivian," Julian's irritated Alpha tone followed me. "We are adults. Act like one."

I didn't answer. I practically ran through the massive revolving doors, ignoring the sharp looks from the Pack security guards in the lobby. I bypassed my own floor and hit the button for the 40th, sprinting down the marble hallway the second the doors opened.

I burst into the empty executive bathroom, the heavy door slamming shut behind me. The sterile smell of citrus cleaner hit my nose, and my body finally gave out.

I collapsed to my knees in front of the nearest toilet and dry-heaved violently. The stress, the betrayal, and the pregnancy hormones collided in a catastrophic explosion. Tears streamed down my face as I gasped for air in the cold, echoing room.

I was carrying his heir, a pup with pure Alpha blood. And the Alpha of the Sterling Pack had just shut me out of his mind, flaunted his mistress on the internet, and prepared to throw us both to the wolves.

Vivian POV

I splashed cold water on my face, watching the pale, trembling woman in the executive bathroom mirror. I needed to pull myself together. I was still the VP of Marketing for Sterling Corp. I just needed the quiet sanctuary of my office to breathe.

But when I reached the end of the 40th-floor corridor, my heart plummeted.

The heavy glass door to my corner office was propped open. Two maintenance workers were changing the electronic lock. Stacked haphazardly in the hallway were three cardboard boxes containing my personal belongings—my framed degree, my favorite pen set, the small potted succulent I had nurtured for years.

"Oh, Vivian. Good, you're here."

I turned. Olivia Lane, the Marketing Director and Serena's former college roommate, leaned against the wall. She wore a striking red dress, her arms crossed. The scent rolling off her was a sickeningly sweet wave of pure, unadulterated schadenfreude.

"What is this, Olivia?" I asked, my voice dangerously tight.

"Departmental space optimization," she said with a fake, sympathetic pout. "We're bringing in a new senior consultant, and they need the executive suite. HR said you wouldn't mind relocating. I've already had your things moved to the Archives Annex."

The Archives Annex. A windowless, converted storage closet in the basement. It was a public, humiliating execution of my corporate authority. They were systematically erasing the wolfless Luna from the Pack's empire.

I didn't give her the satisfaction of a reaction. I picked up the heaviest box and walked toward the freight elevator.

The Annex smelled of decaying paper and dust. The overhead fluorescent light buzzed, casting a sickly, flickering glow over the cramped space. I set the box down just as my phone vibrated in my pocket.

A news alert. *Alpha Sterling's True Mate? Serena Chase Returns.*

I stared at the screen, the air leaving my lungs. It was a high-res photo of Julian opening the door of a black SUV for Serena. He was smiling—a soft, genuine smile I hadn't seen in three years. He was wearing the exact same bespoke charcoal suit he had worn this morning when he slid the *MATE REJECTION AGREEMENT* across our kitchen island.

My phone rang, shattering the silence. It was Julian. The fact that he had to call me, a wolfless Omega deaf to the Pack's *Mind-Link*, felt like another insult.

"Vivian," his Alpha tone was clipped, devoid of any warmth. "I need you to drive out to the Hamptons Estate immediately. There's a Pack territorial deed in the library safe. I need it for a board meeting tomorrow morning."

It was a lie. I had audited the estate's inventory last week; that safe was completely empty. He was banishing me from the city so he could parade his mistress around without the awkwardness of running into his soon-to-be ex-wife.

"Fine," I whispered. Defying a direct Alpha command before the Rejection was finalized was dangerous. Besides, I needed to get out of this suffocating city.

An hour later, I was behind the wheel of an inconspicuous Pack sedan, stopped at a red light on Fifth Avenue.

I glanced out the window and froze.

There, stepping out of the golden revolving doors of The Pierre Hotel, were Julian and Serena. He looked relaxed, utterly content. But what caught my eye was the flash of silver on his tie. An ice-blue tie clip. My third-anniversary gift to him—the one he had sneered at, calling the color "too weak."

A sudden gust of wind swept through the cracked car window, carrying their intertwined scents directly to me. Julian's powerful aura of winter storm and ancient pine was completely polluted by Serena's artificial hothouse orchids. Worse, beneath it all was the unmistakable, lazy musk of an Alpha who had just been thoroughly satisfied.

A violent cramp seized my lower abdomen. My pup, sensing the catastrophic severing of the bond and the sheer agony of its mother, recoiled. I bit down on my lip so hard I tasted copper, slamming my foot on the gas pedal the second the light turned green. He was parading his betrayal, completely ignorant of the life growing inside me that he was actively harming.

By the time I reached the Hamptons Estate, the sun was setting, casting long, skeletal shadows across the cedar-shingled mansion. The house was dead silent, smelling of lemon polish and the faint, lingering ghost of hothouse orchids.

I walked straight into the dark, wood-paneled library and spun the dial on the wall safe hidden behind a hunting painting.

Empty. Just as I knew it would be.

I let out a hollow laugh, the sound dying quickly in the massive room. But as I turned to leave, a glint of light on the edge of the heavy oak desk caught my eye.

I walked over and picked it up. It was a long, diamond teardrop earring. I flipped it over. Engraved on the back of the clasp was a microscopic insignia: a jagged claw mark. The crest of the Redclaw Pack.

The grief instantly evaporated, replaced by a cold, absolute clarity. Julian hadn't just broken our marriage; he had brought the enemy into the heart of Sterling Pack territory.

I slipped the earring into my coat pocket, my fingers brushing against the relabeled bottle of prenatal vitamins. The evidence of his treason rested right next to the secret of my survival. I didn't leave the library. I sat down in the leather chair, waiting in the dark for the Alpha to return to his empty safe.

Vivian POV

I didn't leave the library. I sat in the heavy leather chair, the diamond teardrop earring burning a hole in my pocket. The darkness of the room mirrored the cold, dead space where my heart used to beat.

Just past midnight, the heavy oak doors swung open.

The scent hit me before the light did. The powerful, intoxicating aroma of winter storm and ancient pine rolled into the room, but it was suffocated by the cloying, artificial stench of hothouse orchids. Julian. He flipped the light switch, pausing only for a fraction of a second when he saw me sitting behind the desk.

"The safe is empty, Julian," I said, my voice eerily calm. I didn't mention the earring. I just wanted to see how easily he would lie to my face.

He didn't even blink. His ice-blue eyes remained impassive, carrying that familiar, arrogant Alpha weight. "Arthur must have misplaced the deed at the city office. An oversight."

It was such a casual, effortless lie. He had banished me to the Hamptons just to clear the penthouse for his mistress, and he couldn't even be bothered to invent a convincing excuse. The last microscopic fragment of my trust in him disintegrated into dust.

Julian walked toward the desk and reached into his tailored jacket. He tossed a black velvet box onto the polished wood. "A gesture of goodwill," he said smoothly. "To make the transition easier."

With trembling fingers, I popped the lid open. Inside lay a heavy, diamond-encrusted tennis bracelet. It was blindingly expensive, utterly generic, and completely devoid of any warmth.

"Serena helped pick it out," Julian added, his tone maddeningly nonchalant as he unbuttoned his suit jacket. "She has excellent taste."

The words sliced through my soul like a silver blade. A violent cramp seized my lower abdomen, my body's instinctual reaction to protect the fragile life inside me from the sheer agony of the severed Mate-bond. He was giving me a parting gift chosen by the very woman who had destroyed my marriage.

I snapped the box shut and shoved it back across the desk. "I don't want your money, Julian. And I certainly don't want her charity. I just want to keep my position at Sterling Corp."

Julian's jaw tightened. The temperature in the room seemed to drop ten degrees as his Alpha aura flared, pressing down on my chest.

"You will resign from Sterling Corp effective immediately," he commanded, his voice leaving no room for argument. "Serena is going to be the global face of the new fragrance line. Having a rejected Luna wandering the executive floors will send the wrong message to the Pack and our human partners."

I stared at him, the breath knocked out of my lungs. He wasn't just divorcing me; he was systematically erasing me. My home, my title, and now my career—the only thing I had built with my own two hands. He was clearing the entire board for Serena.

Desperation, fueled by a primal, maternal terror, clawed at my throat. I instinctively placed a protective hand over my flat stomach.

"What if I want something else, Julian?" I whispered, my voice cracking. "Something that isn't yours to give or take away?"

I waited, praying to the Moon Goddess that he would look at me, really look at me, and see the truth hiding behind my eyes.

But Julian didn't even glance at my protective posture. He lifted his wrist, his eyes locking onto the platinum Patek Philippe watch—the watch I had bought him, the watch he had worn while holding Serena's hand.

"It's late, Vivian," he interrupted, his tone dripping with exhaustion and annoyance. "We'll have the lawyers sort out the rest tomorrow."

Without another word, he turned his back on me and walked out of the library, leaving me alone with the ghosts of our dead marriage.

He didn't care. He would never care.

I stood up, my legs shaking, and walked past the master suite, heading straight for the cold, sterile guest room at the end of the hall. I stepped inside and locked the heavy wooden door behind me.

My phone buzzed in my purse. I pulled it out. It was an email from Olivia Lane, the Marketing Director and Serena's loyal lapdog. *Mandatory attendance required for the 8:45 AM strategy meeting regarding the new fragrance line.*

She was summoning me to my own execution.

I stared at the screen for a long moment before hitting delete. The tears I had been fighting all day finally dried up, replaced by a cold, hardened resolve.

I would sign his Rejection agreement. I would let him think he had won. But I would do it on my own terms, extracting every single resource I needed to disappear forever. Alpha Julian Sterling was about to throw away his wolfless Omega, completely unaware that he was also throwing away his only heir. And I would die before I let him take my pup.