Chapter 3

In the past, whenever I ran away after a fight with my father, Richard would hunt me down. He’d drive through the night, find me no matter where I hid, and carry me home on his back.

“What’s the tantrum about this time?” he’d always mutter, half annoyed, half amused.

Back then, as I clung to him, breathing in the crisp cedar on his skin, I used to think maybe—just maybe—he liked me.

How naïve I was.

Because now I know. No one could be crueler than him.

After touching me with that same body, after holding me, after making me believe I mattered—he would go back to his study, sit in front of Lynn’s picture, and look at her with a tenderness that made me sick.

And of all people… it had to be her.

“Let go!” I hissed, eyes burning. I sank my teeth into his hand.

He only frowned, silent, and started the car.

By the time we reached the villa, his expression was carved from stone. He carried my suitcase inside and spoke with that cold finality of his.

“Stay here, like always, until you decide to stop this nonsense.”

I clenched my fists so hard my nails dug into my palms. “I’ll only stay two weeks. After that, I’m gone. I’ll pay you rent if you want. But I won’t bother you again.”

Slowly, Richard lifted his gaze. His green-brown eyes were bottomless, like a deep pit I’d never climb out of.

“Stop bothering me?” His lips were curled, cruel. “Ann, do you really think you’re capable of that?”

The words sliced straight through me. Because he was right. He saw it all.

From the first day I hated him, to now—when I loved him to the point of self-destruction.

And him? He let me drown while keeping another woman in his heart.

“Lynn…” My voice shook. “She’s my stepmother’s daughter. Did you know?”

Richard was stilled for only half a second as he loosened his tie. “I found out today.”

I bit down hard on my lip, but the question still clawed its way out. “And… what is she to you?”

His answer was effortless, rehearsed. “A junior from school. We went to the same academy. She once saved me in a car accident. Later, her health failed, so she was sent abroad.”

Then he looked straight at me, his gaze sharp and warning. “I know you hate your stepmother. But Lynn has nothing to do with that. Don’t take it out on her.”

My chest caved. I wanted to scream Do you love her?!

But what was the point? His protection of her said it all.

I turned on my heel and slammed the guest room door.

That night, he didn’t come after me. Not once.

I lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling until my vision blurred. One thought circled in my mind like a countdown.

Thirteen days left.

Thirteen days until Bloodmoon claimed me—or until I vanished overseas. Either way, I’d escape this torment.

The next day, I slept late, hoping he’d already gone.

But when I opened my door, he was still there. Sitting casually on the sofa, flipping through a magazine, his aura calm and suffocating at once.

He glanced up lazily. “Awake?”

I hesitated. “Aren’t you busy with pack affairs?”

“It’s the weekend,” he said simply.

I muttered something under my breath, grabbed a slice of cheesecake from the fridge, and made for my room.

“Change,” he said suddenly, not even looking up. “You’re coming with me to a party.”

Every instinct in me wanted to refuse. But being trapped in the villa with him was worse. At least outside, I could breathe.

So, I changed and followed.

When we arrived, my stomach dropped.

It wasn’t just a party. It was her party.

A grand welcome celebration—for Lynn.

I turned to leave immediately, but Lynn’s hand snaked around my arm. Her smile was sweet, almost angelic, her blonde hair glowing under the lights.

“It’s so good you came,” she cooed. “Don’t fight with Daddy anymore. He was so worried about you leaving—he didn’t eat all day.”

My laugh was sharp, humorless. I yanked my arm free and strode into the private room.

From the corner of my eye, I saw her lower lip tremble. Her eyes glistened with tears as she looked helplessly at Richard.

His jaw tightened. He shot me a look so cold it froze me in place. Then, without hesitation, he turned to her.

His hand threaded gently through her blonde hair. His voice dropped to something only she could hear—soft, tender words that pulled a shy laugh from her.

The sound gutted me.

I grabbed the nearest glass of champagne, tipped my head back, and swallowed until the burn drowned out the ache in my chest.