Stephanie’s POV
The door to my room opened without warning.
I didn’t need to look up to know who it was.
Only one person entered my space like he owned not just the room, but the air I breathed inside it.
Alpha Cain.
I sat quietly by the window, my hands resting on my lap, my thoughts still lingering from everything that had happened earlier. The humiliation. The way he dismissed me in front of everyone. The way he chose her—again.
“Luna.”
His voice was calm. Almost casual. As if yesterday had been nothing more than a minor inconvenience.
I turned my head slightly to face him.
“Yes?”
He walked further into the room, his posture relaxed, his expression unreadable. There was no guilt. No hesitation. Nothing that suggested he had done anything wrong.
“Faye will be staying here for a while,” he said.
The words landed softly, but they echoed loudly in my mind.
“…Here?” I repeated.
“In the packhouse,” he clarified, as if that made it any better. “She’s the ambassador of our company’s platform now. It’s only appropriate that she stays within Foreshadow territory.”
Appropriate. Of course it was.
I stared at him for a moment, searching his face for any sign of awareness.
Any trace of shame. But there was nothing. Not even a flicker.
“You’re fine with that, aren’t you?” he added, tilting his head slightly.
It wasn’t really a question. It never was. I felt something tighten in my chest, but I forced it down.
“I see,” I said quietly. “If that’s your decision.”
His lips curved slightly, a hint of satisfaction in his eyes.
“That’s more like it.”
He stepped closer to me, lifting his hand to cup my cheek. His touch was warm, familiar, and yet it felt so foreign now.
“I prefer it when you’re like this,” he murmured. “Not making unnecessary trouble.”
My body remained still under his touch. I didn’t lean into it. I didn’t pull away either. I simply endured it.
“Be good,” he added softly, brushing his thumb against my skin before letting his hand fall.
Then, just like that, he turned and left. As if nothing about this situation was wrong. As if bringing his mistress into our home was something I should simply accept.
The next morning, I found myself standing in front of a door I hadn’t opened in a long time.
My fingers hovered over the handle.
Hesitating.
This room… It was the one place I avoided the most. And yet, it was also the one place I cherished the most. The nursery.
I took a slow breath before pushing the door open. The familiar scent greeted me first.
My gaze softened as I stepped inside.
My chest tightened. I walked further in, my fingers brushing lightly against the edge of the crib.
“I’m here,” I whispered softly.
A habit. A foolish one, perhaps. But it was the only way I knew how to cope.
Even after a year of my miscarriage, the pain hadn’t faded. If anything, it had only settled deeper into my bones.
I closed my eyes briefly.
“Meow.”
I froze. My brows furrowed slightly.
That wasn’t...
“Meow.”
The sound came again. Louder this time.
My eyes snapped open.
“What…?”
Confusion quickly turned into unease as I moved further into the room.
And then I saw them.
Two cats. Inside the nursery.
My breath caught.
They were small, fluffy… completely out of place. One of them was perched on the crib.
My stomach dropped. There was a mess on the carpet. A foul, unmistakable mess. A poop!
“No…” I whispered, my heart beginning to pound.
I rushed forward, my eyes scanning the room.
Chaos. That was the only way to describe it. The neatly arranged clothes were scattered across the floor.
Some torn. Some crumpled. The crib’s soft lining had been scratched, threads pulled loose.
And the cats… They were wearing—
My vision blurred. Baby clothes. The clothes I had bought. The ones meant for my child.
“No—no, no, no…”
Panic surged through me.
“What is this?!” My voice rose as I turned toward the door. “Who did this?!”
My hands trembled as I pointed toward the mess.
“Who let these cats in here?! There are a lot of rooms in the packhouse! Why here?!”
Footsteps approached quickly, maids rushing in at the sound of my voice.
“Luna, we—”
“Get them out!” I snapped, my voice shaking. “Now!”
Before anyone could move… “Oh!”
A familiar voice cut through the chaos. Faye.
She stepped into the room, her eyes widening slightly as she took in the scene.
She walked closer, completely unfazed.
“They’re mine,” she said, gesturing toward the cats.
The word echoed in my head.
“I’m so sorry, Luna, ” she added quickly, though there was something off about the way she said it. “Alpha Cain told me I could let them stay here.”
I felt my ears ring.
“He said since they’re sensitive,” she continued, her hand resting lightly over her stomach. “They need their own space. And since no one was using this room…”
No one was using this room. My vision darkened slightly.
“This room is not empty,” I said, my voice low but trembling with barely contained anger.
Faye blinked, clearly taken aback.
“I—I didn’t know—”
Her eyes filled with tears almost instantly.
“I’m sorry… I didn’t mean any harm. They’re just animals. They didn’t know—”
“I know! But what about you? You’re their fur parent! You should have known better!” My voice rose. “They destroyed everything in here!”
“I’ll clean it—”
“What’s going on?” Alpha Cain’s voice.
I turned as he stepped into the room, his brows slightly furrowed.
Faye immediately moved toward him.
“I’m sorry, Alpha,” she said, her voice breaking as she clung lightly to his arm. “I didn’t know the room was important. My cats… they didn’t mean it…”
Alpha Cain’s gaze shifted to me. Annoyance flickered in his eyes.
“Stephanie,” he said, his tone sharp, “why are you making a scene?”
I stared at him.
“A scene?” I repeated, disbelief creeping into my voice.
He glanced around the room, taking in the mess.
“It’s just a room,” he said dismissively. “No one’s even using it.”
My hands clenched at my sides.
“This room—” My voice shook. “This room was for our child. The baby I miscarried!”
He didn’t react. Not the way I hoped he would. Not the way I needed him to.
“If you’re upset about the mess,” he continued, as if I hadn’t said anything meaningful at all, “then I’ll have it renovated. Everything can be replaced.”
Replaced. The word hit me harder than anything else.
“No,” I said, my voice trembling. “You can’t replace those.”
His brows furrowed slightly.
“They were the clothes I bought for our baby,” I continued, my chest tightening painfully. “The one I lost… the one we lost.”
“No one is going to use those anyway.”
I stopped breathing.
“The baby’s dead.”
The words were cold. Blunt. Careless.
Something inside me shattered completely. I stared at him, unable to comprehend how he could say that so easily.
So… casually. As if that child meant nothing. As if that loss was insignificant.
He stepped closer, his hand reaching out to rest on my stomach.
“This baby is more important,” he said, his tone softening slightly.
I flinched.
“Don’t worry,” he added. “I’ll buy new clothes. Plenty of them.”
My throat tightened.
“For girls,” he continued. “Let the cats have the old ones.”
I couldn’t speak. Couldn’t move. Couldn’t even think. Because in that moment, I realized something terrifying.
He never mourned that child. Not even once.
And if... If something happened to this baby…
My hand instinctively moved to my stomach. Would he care? Or would he simply move on again?
