KAILA CAIN POV:
I walked down the cold marble hallway toward the elevator, the adrenaline draining and leaving a numb wasteland inside me. Meredith's words echoed in my skull. Vacate immediately. Fine. I didn't need the penthouse. I didn't need any of it. I pressed the button for the underground garage. My car was still parked there. I'd grab it and go.
The elevator doors opened to the smell of damp concrete and gasoline. I took two steps toward my car and froze. Muffled laughter. Soft gasps. Bryton's low voice murmuring something that made Chantal Gould giggle. The sounds were coming from his black Range Rover, parked two spots away, engine off, windows fogged. Through the tinted glass, I could just make out the tangled shapes of two bodies. A flash of long blonde hair. The glint of that diamond bracelet from the yacht photo.
He was supposed to be in meetings. She was supposed to be my friend. And they were here, in our building, in his car, while I was upstairs signing away our bond.
Humiliation, potent as venom, shot through my veins. The fragile facade of my wolfless nature whimpered deep in my soul, but the true wolf hidden within me howled in rage. For a werewolf, a mate's infidelity is physical torment, a violation that sears through body and soul. I didn't make a sound. I didn't move. I just stood in the shadows by the elevator bank, letting the scene burn itself into my memory. Then I stepped back into the elevator and let the doors close without a sound.
I returned to the penthouse. The apartment was empty, but Chantal's cloying perfume hung in the air like poison. I walked to the floor-to-ceiling windows, staring down at the city lights, feeling like a specimen in a glass box.
I don't know how long I stood there before the door opened. Bryton walked in, reeking of whiskey and Chantal. He saw me and paused, then crossed the room, arms reaching. "Kaila, baby, where have you been? I've been looking for you."
I stepped back. "Don't touch me."
His face darkened, Alpha possessiveness radiating off him like heat. "What's wrong? What tantrum are you throwing now?"
"I found the rejection document, Bryton. In your study. I signed it. Your mother has it now."
The impatience on his face vanished. Shock. Then something that looked almost like fear. "What? What document? Who told you to do that? Did my mother force you?"
"She didn't force me to do anything. I decided on my own." My voice was ice. "While you were fooling around with Chantal in your car."
His face went white, then flushed with rage. "You were spying on me? Kaila, you're becoming more and more irrational!"
No shame. No guilt. Just fury at being caught. I laughed, a broken, hopeless sound. "The document exists, Bryton. Your family wants me gone. After what I saw in that garage, so do I." I pulled a fresh copy from my bag, printed from his study scanner, a backup. I placed it on the table. "Sign it. Let's both be free."
"Never!" he roared, snatching the paper and tearing it to shreds. "You are my fated mate, for life! I won't let you go! I don't care what my mother drafted, I never signed, and I never will!"
So Meredith had told the truth. He hadn't signed. But his rage wasn't love. It was fear. The Northern Territories deal hinged on his image as a stable future Alpha with a Luna by his side. His mother wanted that Luna to be Chantal, whose family controlled the eastern trade routes. And Bryton, caught between his mother's ambition and a mate bond he didn't want but couldn't sever, had been stalling for months. Keeping me as his dirty secret while he played devoted boyfriend to Chantal in public. The document was his mother's ultimatum, not his. But he hadn't said no to it either. Bryton Finley never said no to anything. He just lied to everyone and pretended the mess would sort itself out. His rage now wasn't grief. It was the fury of a coward whose careful house of cards had just collapsed.
He paced like a caged beast, then stormed out, slamming the door. "You need to cool down."
Night fell. He didn't come back. I walked into our closet and opened my jewelry boxes. Diamond necklaces. Sapphire earrings. Limited-edition watches. Each one a monument to a lie. I found a trash bag and began dropping them in, one by one. The clothes. The bags. The shoes. Piece by piece, I stripped his mark from my life.
Finally, I picked up our only framed photo together. We were smiling, so happy. I stared at it for one long moment, then placed it face down in the bag.
I dragged the heavy bags to the front door and scheduled a junk removal for morning. Then I sat on the floor of the empty closet, staring at the bare shelves. For the first time, I felt the faint, terrifying, exhilarating shape of freedom.
