Chapter 6: The Engagement Party

Everly POV

The note from Collins burned in my palm until the ink bled.

He paid Jenson. $50k. USB. He leaked it.

Six words. Six words that proved my entire engagement was built on blackmail. My hands shook so hard the gold foil invitation on my vanity rattled. Downstairs, the string quartet had started playing Canon in D - Damian's choice. He said it polled well with female voters.

My dress was a cage. White, high-necked, long-sleeved. Not sexy. Pure. It was a costume for the press. Look, the Senator's daughter is pure again.

I stared at my neck in the mirror. The concealer was thick, but Grayson's mark glowed beneath it, an angry, pulsing silver. Lila was going crazy inside me, pacing, whimpering. Mate. Close. Mate close.

He was here. I could feel him before I heard the doors.

Collins knocked. His face was stone. "Miss Carter. Your father requests you. Now."

I folded the note into my palm and walked downstairs. Every step felt like walking to my own execution.

The Carter estate ballroom had been transformed. Fifty chairs. Twenty cameras. All red lights blinking LIVE. My father stood at the podium, his campaign smile on, but his eyes were exhausted. Damian Black stood beside him in a three-piece charcoal suit that cost more than my college tuition. He smiled when he saw me. That cold, dead smile.

"And here she is," my father announced. "My daughter, Everly."

The cameras turned. Flash. Flash. Flash.

Damian met me at the bottom of the stairs and took my hand. His skin was ice cold. "You look obedient, darling. I like it."

"You leaked it," I whispered, so only he could hear.

His smile didn't waver. "And you will still marry me. Smile for the voters, Everly."

My father started his speech. "Friends, family, members of the press. The last 72 hours have been challenging for our family. A private moment was stolen and weaponized. But tonight is about loyalty. About family values. Alpha Damian Black has stood by my daughter—"

The double doors at the back of the ballroom slammed open with a crack that sounded like a gunshot.

The quartet stopped mid-note.

Grayson Vale stood there.

He wasn't supposed to be within 100 miles of this house. My father's restraining order, the pack council's ban. But no one told his wolf. His hair was wet, his black henley clinging to him, his eyes not blue anymore but pure molten amber. He looked like he had driven straight through hell to get here. He had.

Security stepped forward. My father raised a hand. "Don't."

Because the cameras were live. And arresting your daughter's ex-lover at her engagement party is terrible optics.

Grayson's eyes locked on mine across the room. The bond snapped taut, a live wire. My breath left my body. Lila howled MINE so loud I thought everyone could hear it.

"Everly," he said.

Just my name. But in his voice, broken and possessive, it was a prayer.

Damian's arm locked around my waist. "Mr. Vale. You're trespassing. This is a private family event."

"You paid Jenson," Grayson said, his voice carrying to every microphone in the room. He wasn't looking at Damian. He was looking at me. "My head of security. Fifty thousand dollars for footage from my own bedroom. You tanked a Senate campaign to buy his daughter like stock."

The ballroom erupted. Reporters shouting. Cameras clicking like machine guns.

My father went rigid. "What is he talking about, Damian?"

"It's a lie," Damian snapped, but his jaw was tight. He turned to me and leaned in, his lips brushing my ear for the cameras. For them, it was a romantic whisper. For me, it was a knife.

He whispered: "I have the raw files, Everly. The full 40 minutes. I can make an AI version where you beg him. Where you say things. Do you want your father to see that? Do you want the whole country to see that on election night? Choose wisely, fiancée."

My blood turned to ice water. He would deepfake me. He would create a pornographic video of me to force me to the altar.

Grayson took another step forward. His hand reached out. "Everly, come here. Right now. I have a car outside. A plane. I have a cabin in Montana with no cameras, no Senators, no fucking Alphas. Just us. Choose me. Please."

I looked at his hand. Scarred. Strong. The hand that had held my face when he marked me.

Then I looked at my father. His face was pleading. His career, his entire 30-year legacy, depended on this wedding looking real and happy. If Damian leaked a fake, graphic video, my father wouldn't just lose. He would be destroyed. And it would be my fault.

I had to save him. Even if it killed me.

So I stepped back. Into Damian's chest.

"No," I said, my voice breaking so loud the mic caught it. "Don't. You need to leave, Grayson. I'm marrying Damian. I want to marry Damian. I don't want you."

The lie was ash in my mouth.

The light in Grayson's eyes died. Completely. The amber faded back to blue, but it was colder than any ice.

He didn't shout. He just stared at my hand in Damian's. At the huge diamond that felt like a handcuff.

"You choose him," he said. It wasn't a question. It was a goodbye.

Damian smiled triumphantly. "You heard her, Vale. She chose. Now get out before I have you removed for harassment."

Grayson nodded once. He looked at my father. "You want this wedding, Luke? You want to sell her to save your seat? Fine. You'll have your wedding."

He turned. And walked out. The doors closing softly behind him was louder than any slam.

The second he was gone, the bond went silent. Not stretched. Silent.

My father's hand grabbed my arm, nails digging in. "What raw files is he talking about?"

But I wasn't listening. Because through the silent bond, I felt one last thing from Grayson. Not love. Not grief.

Pure, cold, calculated rage.

He wasn't heartbroken anymore.

He was at war.

Grayson POV - Outside

I sat in my truck, hands bleeding from the steering wheel. She chose him. In front of the world, she chose him.

My phone buzzed. Jenson: He wanted a longer cut. I said no. But he said he has AI. He can fake it now. I'm sorry.

He would fake a sex tape of my mate to force her to marry him.

I stopped shaking. My wolf, who had been howling, went perfectly still.

If they wanted to play dirty politics, I would show them what a hostile takeover really looked like.

I dialed a number.

"Marcus? It's Vale. Buy every share of Black Enterprises you can find. Quietly. And call the ethics committee. I have a story about Senator Carter's future son-in-law blackmailing his daughter."

I looked up at her window. She was there, crying.

"Three days, baby," I whispered. "You want to be a political wife? I'm about to burn the whole political system down to get you back."