Chapter 2

• I turned slowly, tightening my hand around my phone to make it look like I’d just ended a call. Damien stood in the doorway, and the tension radiated off him in waves that made the air feel thick.
• “Hey, you.” I kept my voice steady, even bored, like I hadn’t just heard him casually discussing my murder.
• The second he saw my expression, or lack of one, his shoulders dropped. Relief flooded his face so obviously it made bile rise in my throat. Damien crossed the terrace and reached for my hand. “There you are. Why didn’t you come inside?”
• “I didn’t want to interrupt,” I said, fighting to keep my voice from cracking. “Sounded important.”
• “Nothing is more important than you.” He squeezed my hand, and I wanted to rip it away. “Come on, let’s go back to my office.”
• He guided me inside, his hand on the small of my back. The touch that used to feel protective now felt possessive, like a collar I’d willingly put on myself.
• Kieran was still there, leaning against Damien’s desk with his arms crossed. He looked me up and down with that familiar expression of disappointment I’d grown up seeing.
• “You know, Evelyn, you really need to learn boundaries,” he said, his voice dripping with condescension. “Showing up unannounced, disrupting meetings… it’s embarrassing. For all of us.”
• My wolf snarled, but I kept my face neutral. I’d learnt years ago that reacting only made it worse.
• Damien held up a hand. “Kieran, that’s enough. She is my wife. She’s welcome here anytime.”
• “Maybe she shouldn’t be.” Kieran rolled his eyes. “Because Vanessa always understood protocol. She knew when to stay away, when her presence would be helpful versus when it would be a distraction.” He looked at me pointedly.
• The comparison hit exactly where he’d intended. It always did. Vanessa. Perfect, beautiful Vanessa, who’d tried to have me killed and was still somehow the golden child.
• “I said that’s enough.” Damien’s voice carried Alpha command now, and Kieran backed off with a shrug.
• “Fine. Just remember what we discussed. Dinner tomorrow night, seven sharp. Don’t keep Dad waiting.” He shot me one last dismissive look before leaving, closing the door behind him with more force than necessary.
• The silence that followed felt suffocating.
• “Don’t listen to him,” Damien said, turning to me with what looked like genuine concern. “You know how he gets.”
• I did know. I’d spent years being compared to Vanessa and found wanting every single time, even though I was the one who’d worked for everything while she floated through life on her looks and charm.
• “I should go,” I said, reaching for my bag. My fingers brushed the envelope inside and I remembered the test results I’d been so excited to share just hours ago.
• “Wait.” Damien caught my wrist gently. “I’m sorry about Kieran. And I’m sorry I’ve been so busy lately.” His thumb stroked across my pulse point in that way that used to make me melt. “Let me make it up to you. Get dressed up tonight. Somewhere nice, just the two of us. A real date, like we used to have.”
• The offer should have made me happy. A few hours ago, it would have. “That sounds nice.” I smiled.
• “Perfect.” He kissed my forehead, and I had to fight not to flinch away. “I’ll pick you up at eight. Wear that blue dress I love.”
• The blue dress he’d bought me for our anniversary. The same anniversary where he’d probably bought Riley an identical bracelet to mine. I nodded and left before my mask could crack completely.
• -----
• I didn’t want to go back to the house. Not yet. So, I walked. The rain started to fall light at first, then heavier. I should have called for a car or tried to find shelter, but I just kept walking through the district like I could outrun the truth.
• My mind kept circling back to everything I’d given up. Four years ago, I’d been at St. Vale Research Academy on a full scholarship. I was the youngest person ever accepted into their advanced neuro-engineering program.
• My mentor, Dr Stuart had wanted me to lead her neural interface research team, which could have helped paralyzed wolves walk again and could have changed lives. It was a very lucrative and good research that would have been concluded by now if I hadn’t bailed on them.
• But then Damien had shown up at my dorm room, looking desperate and exhausted.
• “Eve, I don’t know what else to do,” he’d said, running his hands through his hair in that way he did when he was stressed. “The algorithms aren’t working. We are hemorrhaging money. I’m going to lose everything.” He’d looked at me with those eyes I’d loved since childhood. “I need your help. Please. Just for a few months.”
• We’d known each other since we were nine, when he’d saved me from a rogue bully. I’d loved him for as long as I could remember and had dreamed of the day he’d see me as more than just his friend’s little sister.
• So, when he’d asked for help, I’d said yes immediately. Just for one semester, I told myself. Just until he got back on his feet. I’d deferred my graduate program. Then deferred it again, and again.
• By the time Damien proposed, I’d been out of academia for three years, and Silvercrest was worth hundreds of millions. Everyone said I was lucky that I’d caught an Alpha on his way up, that I should be grateful he’d chosen damaged, broken me.
• Nobody mentioned that I’d helped build his empire from nothing. That my code was running through every system his company sold. That my algorithms had secured the contracts that made him billions.
• Meanwhile, Vanessa who’d never worked a day in her life, was praised for her charity galas and her social connections. Our parents hung on her every word, threw her extravagant parties, bought her a fifty-million-dollar estate just because she’d cried about me receiving Grandmother’s heirloom bracelet.
• And all along, Vanessa had been the one Damien actually wanted. The one he’d been protecting. The one he’d marry in a heartbeat if he could. I was just the convenient tool. The damaged stand-in who was useful for her algorithms and her family connections.
• The rain was coming down harder now, soaking through my jacket, plastering my hair to my face. I looked up and realized I’d walked all the way to the old district without consciously choosing the direction.
• My fingers found the envelope in my bag, and I felt the test results that made me so happy a while ago. I pulled it out slowly. The paper was already getting damp, the edges starting to curl.
• All those months of treatments. All those medications that made me sick. All those appointments where I’d endured painful procedures and humiliating examinations. For what?
• So Damien could get me pregnant and then arrange a convenient “accident” once he had an heir to secure the Morgan pack assets? My hands started tearing before I’d consciously decided to do it.
• The paper ripped easily, separating into halves, then quarters, then smaller and smaller pieces. The pieces scattered in the rain, catching on the wind, disappearing into gutters and puddles.
• Good. Let them wash away with all the other garbage.
• I was about to head back when I heard a distant engine approaching me. The sound was so familiar that it made me look up, and I watched as a black Bentley rolled past and parked at the alley.
• When I looked close enough, I saw it. It was almost as if fate was trying to find the best ways to humble me this night. I saw Riley, straddling someone’s lap. Her dress was hiked up, and her arms wrapped around him. Their mouths locked together like they were the only two people in the world.
• The man was Damien. I watched for a hot minute as he did all the things he used to do to me, except this time she was sliding up and down him, her head tipped back as she moaned loudly. She was everything I couldn’t give him.
• I couldn’t take it anymore. I broke down under the rain, my body shaking violently as I felt my heart shatter in my chest. All this while, I had thought someone would love me for who I was.
• But I was delusional. It took a hot minute before I finished and got up from the floor, then wiped my eyes clean, even with the rain beating down. Since I could not make back all the years I wasted on him, I did not want to spend more of it crying over him.
• He was not worth it, and I was sure as hell done with the damn marriage.