Adrianna’s POV
I knew exactly why Alpha Valentin didn’t question my decision. Because he knew Alpha Cyrus was incapable.
Cyrus was a fighter, not a leader. He knew how to command wolves on a battlefield, but numbers, contracts, long-term strategy? He was blind to those things. In my past life, he nearly destroyed the company with reckless decisions, inflated expansion, and blind trust in the wrong people.
I was the one who stepped in.
I fixed the accounts. I negotiated with investors. I stopped the bleeding before the company collapsed.
This time, I wouldn’t save him.
Once he officially took over as CEO, I quietly began selling my shares. Slowly. Carefully. Piece by piece. Not enough to raise suspicion. Not enough to cause immediate panic.
Just enough to make sure I could walk away clean.
Then I waited.
When Alpha Cyrus and Abigail ate dinner at the packhouse that night, she was glowing. Her laughter echoed down the halls as if she already owned everything.
I sat alone in my room, staring at the wall.
Betrayal replayed endlessly in my head. Every word. Every lie. Every death.
That night, I heard them again.
“We’re so close,” Abigail whispered softly through the thin walls. “Just one more pregnancy from her, and everything will be perfect.”
“Yes,” Alpha Cyrus replied. “Once she gives birth, we’ll finally be free. Then we’ll get rid of her and live properly.”
My hands curled into fists. So that was all I was to them. A final step before happiness.
Later, Alpha Cyrus came to my room.
He tried to touch me, his hands familiar and unwanted. “It’s been a while,” he said, forcing a smile. “We should try again.”
I was ready. I reached for the folder on my bedside table and handed it to him.
“What’s this?” he asked.
“A medical record,” I replied calmly. “The doctor said I have a contagious condition. I can’t have physical contact for at least a week.”
His face twisted instantly.
“Contagious?” he repeated, disgust clear in his eyes.
“Yes,” I said softly. “Highly.”
He shoved the folder back into my hands and stormed out without another word.
I smiled to myself.
My last day in Moonlight Pack arrived quietly.
I packed nothing. Everything that mattered was already gone.
That morning, I called Alpha Valentin.
“Help me locate a man,” I said. “I sent you a CCTV footage. This will be the last favor I ask before marrying you, Alpha.”
There was a pause.
“Fine,” he said. “This will be the last. I’ll personally fetch you tonight.”
That evening, the packhouse was dressed in gold and white. It was Clare’s birthday banquet.
Music filled the air. Laughter rang out. Everyone congratulated Abigail, touching her stomach, blessing her unborn child. Alpha Cyrus stayed glued to her side like a devoted servant.
He never once looked for me.
I stood alone near the edge of the hall, holding a glass I never drank from. Then the doors opened. A man rushed inside, his eyes frantic.
“Abigail!” he shouted. “Abi! Is it true you’re pregnant with my baby?”
The room froze. Gasps erupted.
Abigail’s face drained of color. “Who are you?! I—I don’t know what you’re talking about!”
Before anyone could react, the massive screen behind the stage lit up. CCTV footage played.
Abigail entering a hotel room. The same man following her inside. Time-stamped. Clear. Undeniable.
The hall exploded into chaos.
I smirked and turned away. I walked toward Clare, who stood frozen in shock. I handed her an envelope.
“This is my gift to you and your son,” I said calmly. “Happy birthday.”
Then I walked out. Behind me, screams erupted. Someone fainted. Glass shattered.
Alpha Cyrus shouted my name in rage. Because inside the envelope were abortion papers.
And every piece of evidence. Every crime. Every lie.
Outside, Alpha Valentin waited. I didn’t look back.
Moonlight Pack was no longer my cage.
It was my grave for them.
