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.
