Chapter 5

Irene

In the history of all the impulsive decisions I’ve ever made, this one might just be at the top. I broke off my wedding with Dylan. Left my Pack. Flew to New York for a fresh start, only to end up signing a one-month contract with my arch nemesis, Theodore. 

This is definitely not how I envisaged starting afresh. I don’t know why I got the feeling that I just moved from the frying pan to the fire. 

Maybe I shouldn’t have signed that contract. But then again, I couldn’t just stand there and let Theodore insult me! At that point, it felt like the right thing to do. Now, here I am sitting on this old park bench under the starry night, wondering just how exactly my life could possibly be fucked for the next thirty days. 

“Did I really make the right decision?” I didn’t realize when the question streamed out of my mouth into the cold night. 

I wonder what must be going on in my Pack right now. If I hadn’t caught Dylan last night, by now I'd be in his arms, on the bed, grinning like a fool and convincing myself that I’m the world’s luckiest woman.

My chest collapsed from the weary sigh I released, and then I ran my fingers along the inscription on the wood beside me. It’s a stick drawing of a couple holding the hands of their daughter in the middle.

My father made this drawing with his claw. I still remember the big, warm smile on his face and my mother’s hearty chuckle when I squealed at his drawing. This was the last place we ever visited as a family before the car accident happened. 

A part of me blames myself. Perhaps if I wasn’t so persistent in visiting New York, perhaps they’d still be alive. I’d still have my wolf, my Pack members wouldn’t detest me, and Dylan would have loved me wholeheartedly. 

“Irene?” That overly familiar, deep disgruntled voice boomed behind me. I turned back to see the devil himself, or should I say…my boss? 

“Theodore?” I jolted to my feet, eyeing him from head to toe. He was in a casual all-black outfit this time. A leather jacket that looked like it could buy my entire wardrobe, a pair of matching pants, and boots. 

“D-did- y-you follow me?” The words came out faster than I could trap them in my throat. I detest how he easily shoots my heart to near implosion. 

He easily donned that accustomed furrowed brow of his. “And what would I gain from that?”

My misery, pain, bitterness- I could list a lot more if he wanted. 

“What else will someone like you be doing here?” I quipped back, making his forehead crease. 

“And why can’t I be here?” 

I scoffed and crossed my arms against my chest. “That’s because I know you. You strike me as the type to prefer a rage room over this…tranquility.”

He growled, the kind that you reserve only for rogues you want to mercilessly rip apart. 

“This is private property, mine.”

My right eyebrow lifted. He’s a billionaire; of course I shouldn’t be surprised. Actually, I am. Theodore owns a park? Why? What for?

“And I don’t want to ever see you in this place anymore. Especially this bench.”  

“What?” I blinked a million times.

“Leave.” He rumbled. Is he serious right now?! 

“I won’t ask again, Irene.” He gripped the wooden backrest with so much force, eyes beaming a predatory shade of golden yellow. His aura stifled my airway, forcing the hairs on my skin to rise. 

I have seen Theodore rage before, but nothing, absolutely nothing…compared to this. Every fiber of my body screamed for me to run, and I would have if this place didn’t hold a special memory to me. 

“I won’t.” Call it a death wish, but I’m standing my ground. 

“Irene!” His tone inflected into a new depth of bloodlust. It was just us two here; he could easily kill me, and no one would know. Yet my mouth didn’t know how to use the brakes.

“Especially this bench, you can’t make me stop sitting here. I don’t care if you own this place or not.” My eyes began to pepper as water bled out of my tear ducts. “This is the last good memory I have of my parents. I won’t let you take that away from me!” I panted as if I had just finished going through the trials of hell. 

Theodore took a step back as if I had hit him with a mallet. His eyes reverted to normal, and his breaths stopped barreling out of him like a storm. 

“I’m…sorry.” He hushed. 

“Sorry? Does that word even mean a thing to you?” A tear trickled from my eye.

His throat bobbed. He looked everywhere but me. 

“This was the last place my mother and I came to before she disappeared.” Pain seeped into his voice. My lips parted in shock.

He pointed to the inscription on the top part of the backrest. 

‘T+S’

“Her name is Sloane.” His voice trembled. He didn’t want me to see it, but his eyes were wet and distraught. 

Now it all made sense to me: Why he was being so aggressive earlier with me, why he bought this park.

I know better what it is like to be inflicted with this kind of pain. Which is why I decided to keep quiet and return to my seat. I looked up at him and then tapped the space beside me. 

He hesitated. He struggled to breathe even. But eventually, he came to sit beside me. 

It felt like an eternity passed between us, yet neither of us said a word to each other. We just kept staring at the field in front of us, letting silence do the comforting. 

Every memory I have of him is a bitter one. It’s either we are arguing, throwing shades at each other, or shooting death stares. 

But tonight, for the first time in our lives…it was just pure peace. Maybe he isn’t just a breathing cold exterior after all. 

Maybe…just maybe, there might be more sides to Theodore Sterling. And a big part of me wants to find out.