Three

I walked into Lester’s office with a steadiness I didn’t actually feel.

Each step of my heels echoed against the floor, crisp and deliberate. The sound filled the silence like a warning.

He was behind his desk, typing something on his laptop, brows furrowed. When he finally looked up, his eyes flicked over me curious first, then annoyed.

I didn’t say a word. I just set the folder down on the polished surface between us.

For a moment, he didn’t touch it. His gaze moved from the folder to my face, as if trying to read something there. I kept my expression still. He reached out finally, flipped it open, and his entire posture shifted.

“What the hell is this?” he demanded.

“Freedom,” I said quietly.

The word hung in the air between us.

He laughed. A sharp, ugly sound that filled the office and bounced off the glass walls. “Freedom?” he repeated, his voice dripping with disdain. “You’ll walk away with nothing, Katherine. Nothing. You didn’t even give me an heir. You’re useless Omega.” 

Once, those words would have gutted me. I would’ve gone silent, my chest tightening with shame, my throat burning from holding back tears.

But not now.

This time, they barely touched me.

I looked at him, really looked, and all I saw was a man who believed power meant cruelty. Who needed someone smaller than him just to feel tall.

“We’ll see,” I said simply. My voice didn’t rise. I didn’t give him the satisfaction of a reaction.

He leaned back in his chair, smirking. “Don’t test me, Katherine. You know exactly how this will end.”

“Yes,” I said, turning toward the door. “I do.”

As I walked out, his secretary, a woman I’d spoken to a hundred times in passing, looked up from her desk. Her eyes flicked toward me, then quickly down again. But not fast enough to hide the pity there.

Pity. For me.

It used to make me furious. Now, it just makes me sad.

I didn’t stop walking, even when I heard her whisper to another assistant nearby.

“Selene was seen leaving his house this morning.”

The words hit like a slap, but I didn’t flinch. I’d built new armor. I kept my chin up, my pace steady, my face unreadable until the elevator doors closed and I was finally alone.

Only then did I exhale.

That night, the mansion felt emptier than ever.

The rain had started early, tapping lightly against the windows, but the sound only made the silence louder. I walked through the rooms slowly, touching things without meaning to photo frames, furniture, the piano I’d once tried to learn to play just because he’d said he loved music.

Every object in that house had been chosen to please him. To fit his taste.

Somewhere along the line, I’d stopped having any of my own.

Not anymore.

I packed a single bag with just the essentials. Clothes I could move in. A few documents. My passport. I left the jewelry, the designer gowns, the perfumes he’d bought me to keep up appearances. They belonged to someone else now. Someone I didn’t want to be.

When I closed the door behind me, the sound echoed like a final goodbye.

Outside, the rain had turned heavier. I climbed into the car, the cold leather seat pressing against my back. My hands trembled slightly as I gripped the steering wheel.

No destination. Just drive.

The city lights blurred behind me, replaced by winding roads and the open stretch of highway that led nowhere and everywhere all at once. The rain was relentless, streaking across the windshield in silver lines. The wipers moved back and forth, hypnotic.

I didn’t know where I was going. I only knew I couldn’t stay.

The mansion. The name. The marriage. All of it felt like a cage I’d finally broken out of.

The road curved along the hills outside the city, and visibility dropped to almost nothing. I slowed down, squinting through the storm. My heart was still racing — not from fear, but from something sharper. Anticipation.

That’s when I saw them.

Headlights.

Bright and motionless in the distance.

I frowned, easing my foot off the gas. There were several vehicles black SUVs lined up across the road, blocking both lanes. My first thought was that there’d been an accident. But as I got closer, I realized the cars were parked deliberately. Perfectly aligned.

My pulse quickened.

I pulled to a stop, the rain hammering against the hood. The wipers swept across once more before freezing mid-motion when I turned the engine off.

The world went still, except for the rain.

Then, one by one, the SUV doors opened.

Men stepped out all dressed in black suits, their movements precise, controlled. This wasn’t random. This was organized.

My fingers tightened on the steering wheel until my knuckles went white.

The oldest of them, maybe in his fifties, walked toward me slowly. His face was calm, his posture respectful, but something about him radiated authority.

He stopped beside my window and gestured for me to lower it.

Against every instinct in my body, I did.

Rain splashed in through the narrow opening, dampening the edge of my sleeve.

“Miss Vale,” he said. His voice was deep, steady, formal. “Your family has been searching for you.”

I blinked. My throat went dry. “What did you just call me?”

“Miss Vale,” he repeated, his eyes meeting mine. “It’s your name.”

“No,” I said automatically. “My name is Walker. Katherine Walker.”

He looked at me for a moment, his expression softening slightly, though his tone remained certain. “That was your married name, ma’am. But before that, before the Walkers found you, you were a Vale.”

My heart slammed against my ribs.

Before the Walkers found me?

“What are you talking about?” I managed to whisper.

He straightened a little, rain dripping from the brim of his coat. “You were taken when you were eight years old. Your family has been searching ever since. Your brothers have never stopped.”

Brothers?

I felt dizzy. I shook my head, as if that could make his words make sense. “That’s not possible. I grew up—”

I stopped myself. The truth was, there were gaps. Places in my memory that had always been foggy, pieces of childhood that didn’t quite fit together. My adoptive parents had said I’d been sick when I was young. That I’d forgotten things.

But this—

This was something else.

He took a small step back, giving me space. “I know it’s a lot to process,” he said quietly. “But your family has proof. They’ve been waiting a long time.”

The rain drummed harder, the sound like thunder against the car roof. I couldn’t move. My hands had gone cold, my mind racing through every possibility, every question, every half-memory that suddenly didn’t feel like mine anymore.

Finally, I found my voice. “Why now?”

He looked at me, his expression unreadable. “Because it’s time.”

Then his voice lowered, softer, almost kind.

“Your brothers have been waiting, Miss Vale,” he said. “It’s time youcame home.”

I stared at him, at the shadowed figures behind him, at the storm that refused to let up.

Home.

Such a foreign Concept to me.