Chapter 2

It turned out Beatrix had followed us out. She was shivering in the freezing wind, wearing only a thin evening gown.

Without a second of hesitation, Atlas stripped off his jacket and draped it over her shoulders.

He then instinctively pulled her closer into his arms.

I looked away and slammed on the gas.

I put on my Bluetooth earpiece and called my best friend, Maya.

"I'm forcing a mate bond dissolution," I said, skipping the pleasantries. "I forwarded the backups to your email. It's everything: the flight records of Atlas sneaking overseas to see Beatrix, plus the paper trail of pack assets he's funneled to her over the last seven years. I'm not just severing the mate bond. I'm taking my cut."

A glass shattered on the other end of the line.

"Are you serious? Cora, you're finally done with him!" Maya's voice shook with excitement. "As the pack's Chief Strategy Officer, you tripled Silver Crescent's wealth in seven years! With that evidence, you have every right to take what's yours!"

"But," Maya's tone sobered, "the pack Elders are rigid traditionalists. If Atlas refuses to sign, the only way to force the dissolution and strip his assets is concrete proof of physical infidelity."

Concrete proof.

I gripped the steering wheel, my knuckles turning white.

The Elders didn't give a damn about seven years of emotional abuse, verbal humiliation, or his blatant favoritism.

They needed undeniable proof. They needed me to catch him red-handed.

"I know," I hung up the phone, deep in thought.

Beatrix was back. It was only a matter of time before they crossed the line.

After a long pause, I decided to lay low. I'd wait for Atlas to slip up.

Early the next morning.

The bedroom door was pushed open roughly. I woke up to find Atlas standing by the bed, coldly ordering, "Get up. Make breakfast."

For the past seven years, I had insisted on cooking his breakfast myself, just hoping he would look at me a little more.

But that didn't mean I was going to take his orders now.

Especially not when...

My eyes locked onto his neck.

There was a clear red lipstick mark there.

Glaring and arrogant.

"What? Are you going to move?" Atlas frowned, looking down at me. "Make an extra serving of bacon and eggs. Beatrix likes hers over-easy."

I laughed.

"Atlas, you never miss a chance to cheapen yourself, and me." I threw off the covers and glared at him. "I am the Luna of this pack, not a maid for your precious Beatrix."

"What is your problem now?" Before he could blow up, the doorbell rang.

Atlas’s mood instantly shifted, and he practically bolted downstairs to open the door.

Outside stood Beatrix, dressed in an elegant dress.

Atlas turned his head and casually informed me, "I'm going to a seaside resort with some old friends. Beatrix just got back to the country, so I'm taking her out to relax."

"What about me?" I asked expressionlessly, leaning against the stair railing.

"You don't know them well; you'd just ruin the mood. Stay home. We'll be back in three days."

Beatrix walked into the living room, stepping right up to me and naturally patting my shoulder.

"Don't mind us, Cora," she said breezily, her eyes full of smug provocation. "Don't worry, I'll take good care of him for you."

Looking at her acting like the lady of the house, I almost felt like she was the true Luna of this estate.

Atlas soon came out of the bedroom with his luggage.

I stopped him, shoving the agreement from last night back in his face.

"Sign it before you leave."

Atlas’s patience completely ran out. He swatted the file away.

"Cora, are you ever going to drop this?! Are you really going to keep threatening me with this childish nonsense?"

Papers scattered all over the floor.

Beatrix immediately stepped in, wrapping her arm around Atlas’s with fake concern. "Atlas, don't be so mean to Cora. She’s probably just overthinking because she's home alone. You should be more understanding."

Atlas looked down at her, the rage in his eyes instantly melting into tenderness.

"You’re always so sensible," he said, patting her hand.

They turned toward the door.

"I booked that private hot spring," Atlas murmured to Beatrix, his tone intimate. "We can have a good soak tonight."

"Stop it, people are watching," Beatrix giggled coyly.

The front door slammed shut.

I stood in the messy living room. No anger. No tears.

I bent down, picked up my phone, and called Maya again.

"He refused to sign," I said, my voice cold as ice.

"Then what do we do? We can't win without proof!" Maya asked anxiously.

I walked over to the floor-to-ceiling windows, watching Atlas's sports car leave the estate. A cold smirk touched my lips.

"Relax. I planted a micro-tracker on his car last night."

"I have a feeling I'm getting my concrete proof very, very soon."