Chapter 3

That jewelry company didn't take on any outside clients. Other than the fixed annual transfer of 100 million dollars from Carl, all of its profits came from internal allocations within the conglomerate he ran.

Despite that, its influence was staggering, and every single piece of jewelry produced ended up on Fiona.

I stumbled across Fiona's Facebook profile. She'd been living it up in a beachfront villa. Her fingers were entwined with some man's in her latest post.

The caption read, "My greatest love."

I zoomed in. On the man's ring finger was a ruby band that matched hers, and a faint mark around his wrist hinted at a bracelet that had been there far too long.

Carl once told me he hated wearing rings, so at our mate-bonding ceremony, we had everything except rings.

Like a fool, I believed him. I even wove a bracelet by hand and fastened it around his wrist. He called it his protection charm and swore he'd never take it off.

Then, Fiona showed up, and it was gone.

I scrolled through her Facebook.

On February 14th, Carl gave her a sapphire necklace, carved from the flawless heart of a single stone by master craftsmen. That same day, he gave me one too, studded with broken bits of sapphire.

On July 7th, he bought the finest moonlight silk to have a custom gown made for Fiona. Meanwhile, I got a moonlight silk scarf.

Entry after entry, I kept scrolling, each one carving out my heart a little more.

Carl saw me as nothing more than Fiona's stand-in. Every so-called "gift of love" he gave me was just an afterthought and whatever was left once he'd finished crafting perfection for her.

Five years of everything we had shattered in a heartbeat.

I cried through the night before it finally hit me. Everything Carl ever did, all that tenderness and affection, was just setting me up for the fall. I was still just the Rogue from the Borderlands.

When my tears finally dried, I decided I'd leave him in a week.

During that time, Carl texted me once. I used to think he checked in on me every day because he loved me, but now I knew better—he was just afraid Fiona's scapegoat might run.

Well, if that was all I ever was, why the hell should I make it easy for him?

Carl came home in the dead of night. The moment he walked in, he buried his face in my neck, nuzzling me like some lovesick fool.

"Daisy, did you miss me? I couldn't sleep a wink without you," he said lovingly.

Dark circles hung under his eyes, and he really did look like he'd been up all night.

Once, that would've broken me. Now, I didn't even flinch.

He didn't even love me. Yet here he was, putting on this sickeningly sweet act. It made my skin crawl.

"Shy, are we?" he teased.

He let out a low chuckle. Then, he yanked me hard against his chest, making me endure his rough, possessive touch.

…

The second I opened my eyes in the morning, I saw Carl looming over me with a dark expression. I shrank back, remembering just how fast his temper could flare.

"Your phone went off. What did you delete?" he questioned.

I glanced down at my phone. It was a message from my lawyer. The pack had formally removed me from their registers.

I managed a thin smile. “Nothing important. Just an old email account. It had been inactive for too long, so I deleted it.”

"Oh?" Carl leaned in, his hand tightening around the back of my neck. "Don't lie to me, Daisy. Don't you dare betray me."

I nodded.

Luckily, Carl's phone rang before he could press any further.

"What? Fiona's back? Who told her she could come? Hold her there. I'm coming."

His voice was tight and low with tension. He strode out without so much as a glance in my direction.

Before I walked away from all of this, there was still one thing I had to do.

Even though I'd already cut ties with the pack, I couldn't stand the thought of my name—Daisy Smith—still being linked to Carl. I had to break our mate bond completely without him ever knowing.

After taking a steady breath, I typed out a message to Fiona's number.

"Hi, Fiona Barone. I'm Carl's mate. We need to talk."