8. Overreacting

Valerie

I rushed into the bedroom like the room itself had betrayed me.

The sheets were still a mess from the night before. Pillows scattered. The duvet half hanging off the bed like silent evidence of everything that had happened there.

My stomach twisted violently.

No…

It can't be.

My eyes burned as I grabbed the first piece of clothing I saw from the floor.

It was crumpled and twisted like it had been carelessly discarded in the heat of the night.

My chest tightened.

Behind me, footsteps entered the room.

“Hey…”

“Don’t!” I snapped without turning around. My hands trembled as I tried to shake the wrinkles from my dress. “Don’t come any closer!”

Silence fell for a second, but I could still feel his eyes on my back.

I dropped the dress on the bed and began searching frantically again.

“My bag… where’s my phone?” I muttered to myself, pushing aside a pillow and lifting the edge of the blanket. Panic clawed up my throat with every passing second.

If I could just call Sebastian.

If I could just hear his voice.

Then maybe this nightmare would make sense.

“Listen,” the man said carefully behind me, “I think you’re overreacting right now…”

“Overreacting?” I spun around so fast the room tilted again. My hair had fallen wildly around my shoulders and my hands were clenched into fists.

“You think I’m overreacting?”

His brows drew together slightly, clearly not expecting the explosion.

“You slept with me, defiled me and you’re talking about overreacting?”

His eyes flickered briefly over me, then back to my face.

“You say that like I forced you,” he said evenly, but stopped short, genuine surprise crossing his features. “Defiled you? Were you a virgin?”

The words hit me like a slap.

“Excuse me?”

The question was so absurd, so far from the point, that I almost laughed. Instead, tears started streaming down my face.

His jaw tightened slightly as if he was already losing patience.

“You walked up to me at the bar,” he said. “You kissed me first. Pretty enthusiastically, I might add, and now you're claiming to be a virgin and accusing me of defiling you?.”

My breathing stopped.

“YOU… insisted we come upstairs, clinging to me like I was your lifeline.”

The room began spinning again.

“No,” I whispered. “No… that’s not possible.”

“It is,” he replied bluntly.

I shook my head violently.

“You’re lying.”

“Why would I lie about that?”

“Because I was supposed to be with Sebastian!” I shouted, my voice cracking.

The name hung heavily in the room and for a moment neither of us spoke.

Then he dragged a hand down his face in frustration.

“Look,” he said with a tired sigh. “I don’t know who this Sebastian guy is, and I'm tired of hearing that name. But if this is some kind of regret situation, we can handle it like adults.”

I stared at him blankly.

“What does that mean?”

He hesitated for a second before answering.

Then he ran a hand through his hair and said the words that made my blood boil.

“You can just name your price.”

For a moment I didn’t understand what he meant.

Then it hit me.

My eyes widened in disbelief.

“…What?”

His expression remained calm, almost bored.

“I’ll settle you,” he said. “So we can avoid unnecessary drama.”

The air in my lungs disappeared.

“You’ll… settle me?”

“Yeah.”

He crossed his arms, leaning against the doorframe like we were negotiating a deal. “How much do you want? I’ll transfer it right now, and we can both forget this happened.”

He shrugged slightly.

“I know how this works.”

Something cold settled deep inside my chest.

“What exactly do you think this is?” I asked quietly.

He gave a humorless chuckle.

“See, girls like you show up all the time,” he said. “They hook up with strong wolves using those mate-scent perfumes to get attention, then pull some emotional stunt afterward so they can linger around for longer or demand more money.”

Every word felt like acid poured over my skin.

“I’m not stupid.”

My hands trembled.

“So, you think I’m some kind of those… harlot?” I asked, my voice dangerously low.

He didn’t answer directly.

Which was answer enough.

Rage exploded through me.

“You’re unbelievable.”

I caught sight of my phone from the bedside table, grabbed it and unlocked it with shaking fingers.

“Since you’re so confident in your ridiculous theory,” I said sharply, pulling up a photo, “let me educate you.”

I marched toward him and shoved the phone in his face.

“That,” I said bitterly, “is Sebastian.”

His eyes moved to the screen.

And for the first time since this nightmare began…

His expression changed.

The confidence drained slightly from his face as he stared at the photo.

Because the man in the picture looked exactly like him.

“That’s the man I thought you were when I kissed you first. That’s the man I thought you were when I allowed you defile me and moaned in satisfaction. That's the man I’ve waited ten good years for just to spend this moment with, even if once. So don’t you dare call me a liar.”

My chest rose and fell as anger and humiliation churned inside me.

“Understood?” I spat.

His eyes slowly lifted from the screen to meet mine again.

But I didn’t wait for him to say anything.

I pulled my phone back, grabbed my shoes, my bag, and the rest of my clothes from the bed.

Then I stepped forward and spat directly at his face.

His body stiffened in shock.

“You disgust me.”

And without looking back, I stormed out of the room.