Divorced, Now Mated To His Billionaire Uncle

"I want a divorce."

I threw the divorce papers straight at Rowan Fell’s face. My eyes were cold, empty—like nothing in this world mattered to me anymore.

People in the café turned to stare at us, eager for the drama.

Rowan leaned closer, a tight-lipped smile forming on his face. “What did you say?” he asked in a low voice.

“I said I want a divorce, you motherfucker dog!” I shouted.

His expression darkened instantly, anger flashing in his eyes. “You can't be serious, Samantha. After everything I've done for you? You want to leave me?”

“Done for me?” I scoffed. “All you’ve done is lie, cheat, and treat me like I’m fucking trash! I’m done, Rowan!”

He didn’t take me seriously. Instead, he stood up and grabbed my hand roughly. “Enough. We are going home now!” His glare was sharp. “You are embarrassing me.”

“Oh, you are embarrassed?” I yanked my hand free and slammed a stack of pictures onto the table. “But you didn’t look embarrassed when you were fucking a bunch of whores behind my back!”

He had once said we were mates for life, yet everything about him screamed the opposite. He spread his pheromones all over town and slept with every woman he could find.

Just a beta—yet he strutted around like some dominant alpha.

“Samantha, what the fuck? Are you stalking me?” Rowan grunted when he saw the photos of him with different women.

But instead of guilt, all I saw was annoyance. He was angry because I had humiliated him.

That was it for me.

I grabbed a glass of iced coffee and threw it at him.

Splash!

“Samantha! Fuck!” he snarled as the drink soaked his face and clothes.

People immediately raised their phones, recording. The barista looked ready to call emergency services if things escalated.

I stood up and sneered. “You should be grateful I didn’t order a hot coffee.”

Crash!

I hurled the glass at his head. Blood trickled down his forehead, but a werewolf like him wouldn’t die from that.

If we weren’t in a café, I would’ve thrown everything at him—plates, tables, anything I could get my hands on.

Did I feel guilty?

Not even a little.

“For five years,” I said, my voice filled with disgust, “I’ve watched you cheat, lie, and act like an asshole. I used to think—no, I believed—you’d change. That one day you’d treat me better.”

I shoved his chest.

“But it never happened. And for the first time in my life, I finally understand—you’ll always be a jerk until the day you die. I’m done, Rowan. I can’t live like this anymore.”

He stepped closer, his voice rising. “You think you can just walk away? After I marked you? You’re mine forever, Samantha!”

I touched the back of my neck, disgust twisting inside me at the feel of his mark. Lowering my voice so the humans wouldn’t hear, I said, “You’re just my fake mate, Rowan.”

“You only have me because my real mate rejected me,” I continued, my tone colder. “And besides, you’re just a Beta. Your mark isn’t anything special.”

He had never known that truth.

I saw it in his face—the moment his pride shattered.

“You ungrateful bitch!” he snapped. “You think you can survive without me? You have nowhere to go! I’m all you have. Do you even have money to live on your own?”

Then his tone shifted, softer—but his eyes remained predatory. “Let’s forget today, alright? I’ll forgive you if you apologize.”

I laughed.

I couldn’t believe the audacity of this man—this shameless, pathetic man I once married.

“Sorry? For what? For divorcing a jerk like you? For exposing your disgusting behavior?” I snapped. “And in case you forgot—my life was better before I ever met you, motherfucker.”

Before Rowan, I had everything.

I was Samantha Cole—a famous actress adored by both humans and supernatural beings.

I had it all.

Until I married him.

At the peak of my career, he convinced me to quit acting and become a full-time wife. I was only twenty-two—young, naive, stupid enough to believe I had found my forever.

For a while, he made me happy.

But it didn’t last.

He started controlling my finances, persuading me to invest in his failing business. Little by little, he drained everything I had built.

Within a few years, it was all gone.

And once his business finally succeeded, he made sure I depended entirely on him—so I would never leave, no matter how miserable he made me.

He cut me off from my pack.

From my parents.

From everyone.

He was insane—and I couldn’t take it anymore.

I was done with the abuse. Done with the isolation.

“I’m finished here,” I said coldly. “My lawyer from the Nocturnal Order will pick up the divorce papers tomorrow. Make sure you sign them.”

I grabbed my bag. “And don’t forget—the higher-ups want to discipline you for sleeping with too many humans.”

I turned to leave.

But before I could take a step, Rowan grabbed my arm—and struck me.

Slap!

Pain exploded across my cheek as I stumbled. I tasted blood in my mouth, felt the sting at the corner of my lips.

It was just a slap.

But Rowan was stronger than me.

The room went silent.

It wasn’t the first time he had hit me.

But in that moment, I finally asked myself—

How had I endured this for so long?

It hurt.

God, it hurt so much.

Yet I had never said it out loud. Because if I cried, he hit harder. If I ran, he kicked harder.

For four years, I suffered in silence.

Not anymore.

I swung my fist and punched him straight in the face.

Crack.

His nose broke instantly. Blood poured out, and I smiled.

“Fuck! You bitch!”

He raised his hand again, but this time, people stepped in.

“Back off, man!”

“You have no shame!” someone shouted. “You hit your wife and then get angry when she fights back?”

“Don’t feel guilty, girl!” a woman called out. “You made the right choice!”

That was exactly why I did this here.

If I had confronted him at home, he would’ve locked me away forever.

“Ma’am, do you need to go to the hospital?” the barista asked.

I touched my lips, then realized my hand was injured too. Still, I shook my head. “I’m fine. You can go back to work.”

It would heal.

That’s why he never hesitated to hurt me.

“Do you have somewhere to go?” a middle-aged woman asked kindly. “You can stay with me if you need.”

I smiled at her.

For so long, I had been afraid—terrified that leaving Rowan meant I’d be alone, that I’d fall apart.

But now I saw the truth.

That fear had only been in my head.

“I’m okay,” I told her softly. “I have somewhere to go.”

I left the café quickly before Rowan could recover enough to chase me.

Thankfully, supernatural laws prevented him from attacking me in public.

I ran.

I didn’t even know where I was going.

But I knew one thing—he could still track me through the mark on my neck.

The only way to erase it… was to be marked by someone stronger than him.

But I refused to let just anyone claim me.

Breathing heavily, I pulled out a creased piece of paper. The ink had faded, but I didn’t need it.

I had memorized the number long ago.

My fingers trembled as I dialed.

Maybe he wouldn’t answer.

Maybe this was a mistake.

But after just one ring—

He picked up.

I swallowed hard, my voice barely steady as I spoke.

“I want us to renew our bond.”