4

Nimue POV

The silence that followed his gasp was deafening, but loud enough to crush the lungs of anyone weaker than the woman I had become.

I kept my expression entirely neutral, keeping my steps measured, graceful, and slow as I descended the grand staircase. I didn't show a single ounce of the shy, blushing omega girl he once knew. I was the matriarch here.

“Wh… what are you doing here?” Reginald stammered, his eyes wide and frantic, searching my face for a joke that wasn't coming.

Then, his gaze dropped to Reggie, who was clinging tightly to my hand. I watched his brain physically try to process the child’s appearance. Reggie had my dark curls, but the fierce golden eyes and sharp jawline were undeniably Hathaway traits. Reginald actually took a physical step backward, his chest heaving as if he had been struck.

At the bottom of the stairs, Gerald stepped forward. With a smooth, deliberate motion, he wrapped his arm around my waist, pulling me securely against his side. It was a clear, unmistakable gesture of protection—and ownership.

Reginald’s breathing stopped completely. His eyes darted from Gerald’s hand on my waist back to my face, his jaw practically dropping.

Gerald looked directly at his son, his voice calm and booming. “Welcome home, Reginald. Meet your stepmother.”

Reginald burst into a strained laugh. "Dad, I just had a long flight. I have no strength for jokes. Wait, you… you’re joking, right?"

Nobody answered him. The servants stood perfectly still along the walls, terrified of the suffocating tension.

"She’s your wife?" Reginald snapped at his father, his eyes practically burning with a dangerous fury.

Gerald remained perfectly composed. "I wanted it to be a surprise, hence I didn’t tell you about it."

Reginald ignored him entirely, his eyes locking back onto mine, begging for an explanation. "Nimue, what the hell is going on here?"

I didn't give him the satisfaction of a reaction. Beside me, Reggie shifted closer to Gerald, looking up at him comfortably. That small, trusting movement seemed to push Reginald entirely over the edge. Pure, unadulterated rage exploded in his chest.

"Oh, I get it now," Reginald barked, his voice rising a tempo as he laughed bitterly. "You are trying to get revenge! You married my father to punish me? What the hell? What the fucking hell is wrong with you?"

He was one second away from losing his mind, his Alpha aura flaring aggressively enough to make the air vibrate.

I detached myself from Gerald's side and walked past Reginald calmly, not showing a single drop of fear. I stopped beside one of the nearby maids.

"Prepare dinner for young Alpha Reginald," I said smoothly, my voice intentionally clear and audible through the tense hall. "His flight must have been exhausting."

"Young Alpha." The title slipped from my lips like ice.

Reginald spun around, staring at me in complete disbelief. "You don’t get to talk to me like that."

I finally stopped and turned, looking at him directly, letting him see the absolute dead coldness in my gaze. "And how exactly should I speak to you, stepson?" I asked quietly.

He stumbled over his words, utterly caught off guard by my composure. Six years ago, I would have broken down under his glare. Now, I held all the power.

Reggie suddenly tugged on Gerald’s hand. "Dad? Can I show Uncle Reginald my toy wolves later?"

Uncle.

Reginald looked down at the child, his chest visibly heaving with physical pain. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

I stepped forward immediately, placing a protective hand lightly against my son’s shoulder. "Reggie, go wash your hands before dinner."

The boy nodded obediently and ran upstairs, completely oblivious to the war occurring in the hallway. I turned to walk away, done with the conversation.

"Nimue." Reginald's voice stopped me. He hadn't moved an inch. I glanced at him over my shoulder, keeping my expression entirely detached.

"Is that kid his?" he whispered, his throat tight, desperate.

I gave him a faint, mocking smile. "What do you think? He is my husband."

I walked away without looking back, leaving him alone in the grand hall to drown in his own regret.

From the hallway outside the study a short while later, the sound of a door slamming shut rattled the light fixtures. The force of it was so loud it vibrated through the entire upstairs corridor.

I paused, holding a stack of financial reports against my chest. A soft sigh escaped my lips. Reginald was throwing a tantrum, exactly as expected.

I walked quietly down the hall, stopping near the doors of Gerald’s home office. Even through the thick wood, the muffled sounds of their voices carried.

"You married my girlfriend!" Reginald’s voice barked with a toxic mixture of anger and jealousy.

"My lawfully wedded wife was painfully single when I met her," Gerald’s calm, cutting response followed. "She was never yours, Reginald. Nimue was a woman you were lucky enough to love briefly before throwing her away."

I closed my eyes briefly, feeling a strange sense of vindication hearing Gerald defend my past.

"I didn't throw her away," Reginald argued, though even through the door, his voice sounded weak, stripped of its initial fury.

"You left her and disappeared to America," Gerald stated flatly. "What were you expecting her to do? Sit back and wait for you? Your mother died because of your selfishness, Reginald. You drank, you gambled, you ruined everyone who loved you. But honestly? I'm glad you messed up with Nimue. She became the perfect Luna for this pack. She is graceful, intelligent, and respected."

A long silence followed. I stood in the hallway, my heart beating steadily. Hearing the truth of Reginald's past laid bare didn't hurt anymore; it only solidified that I had made the right choice. Reginald had abandoned me when things got difficult, while Gerald had stood by me, helped me build Hathaway Wines into a powerhouse, and given me a family.

"Do you love her?" Reginald's voice was barely a whisper now.

"More than that, I respect her. Something you obviously lacked," Gerald answered. "Tomorrow morning, you'll attend the Hathaway Wines investor meeting. With her. With your stepmother. She oversees most company operations now. Try not to embarrass yourself in front of her."

Hearing the conversation coming to an end, I quickly stepped back into the shadows of the adjacent corridor.

A moment later, the office doors flew open. Reginald stormed out, his hair disheveled, his hands clenched into tight fists. He looked completely defeated, his chest heaving as he stared down the empty hallway, searching for answers he would never get.

I stayed out of sight, watching him walk away toward the guest wing. Once his footsteps faded, I stepped out of the shadows and entered the study. Gerald was sitting behind his desk, pouring a glass of whiskey, looking tired but completely unbothered.

He looked up and smiled faintly when he saw me. "You heard all of that?"

"Most of it," I admitted, walking over and placing the reports on his desk. "He’s furious."

"And please add jealous to the mix," Gerald corrected, taking a slow sip. "He expected to return and find everything exactly as he left it. But do not worry about him. I think it’s better we keep up this act for as long as we can. Reginald deserves to be disciplined, and the only way to make that work is to ensure he earns his keep."

"Will he be a problem at the meeting tomorrow?" I asked, focusing strictly on business.

"He will try to challenge you," Gerald said, his eyes narrowing slightly. "But you know the numbers better than anyone, Nimue. Show him exactly what you are made of."

I nodded, a cold sense of determination washing over me. "I intend to."