로그인Manhattan was doing that thing again twinkling like it had all the answers, when really it just had expensive lighting. Alexander Knight leaned against the glass wall of his penthouse, seventy-five floors up, watching the city hum below him. Bourbon in one hand (mostly untouched), phone in the other. The merger docs stared back at him from the screen, but the part that actually kept him up at night wasn’t the billions on the line. It was the fine print from the Japanese investors: “Family stability preferred.” Translation: get a wife, look settled, or watch the whole deal slip away. He exhaled, fogging the window for a second before it cleared. His assistant had already sent over a neat little list of “suitable” women—discreet, polished, zero drama. Women who understood arrangements. He hadn’t even opened the attachments. Because something about the whole thing felt… hollow. His gaze drifted down, past the grid of lights, to the tiny café on the corner. Golden glow spilling onto the sidewalk, handwritten sign in the window: Local Artist Pop-Up – One Night Only. A woman stood in front of a canvas, head tilted, paint-smudged shirt slipping off one shoulder. She was talking to someone out of view, laughing softly, then stepped back to study her work like it had personally offended her. She glanced up—straight toward his building, straight at him somehow, even though there was no way she could see him up here. But for a split second, their eyes locked across the impossible distance. But right then, with the whole damn city glittering between them, he had this ridiculous, unshakable thought: She’s the one I’m going to ask. And hell help them both when she says yes.
더 보기Scarlett's POV
I caught his scent before I saw them.
Sandalwood and cedar—that was Alexander's scent, the one I thought I'd love for the rest of my life.
Now it clung heavily to another woman, like a brand that seared my senses, leaving me frozen beneath the arched doorway of the ballroom, unable to take another step.
The lights blazed brilliantly. Crystal champagne flutes clinked, laughter rang out, strings played melodiously—everyone was celebrating the Crescent Moon Pack's glorious rise from tenth place to second.
That ranking was a number I had built over three years, with blood and sweat, with every resource under my name.
And here I was, the one who should have been the guest of honor, still clutching a garment bag in my hands.
A white silk gown, every seam embedded with crushed diamonds—I had designed it myself for tomorrow night.
Yes, tomorrow night.
Everyone I had asked had clearly told me the victory celebration was tomorrow evening.
If I hadn't overheard the seamstress's casual comment during this afternoon's fitting, I would still be sitting at home, completely oblivious to what was happening here.
I stood still in the doorway for another three seconds, then let my gaze sweep across the crowd until I found them.
Alexander stood in the center of the hall, impeccable in his tailored suit, his hand resting naturally on Faye's slender waist.
They stood so close together, as if he had already forgotten the fact that she had once rejected and abandoned him.
Faye pressed against him, her emerald eyes half-lowered, her lips curved in that all-too-familiar smile—the kind of satisfied smirk that only someone who knew they held the absolute upper hand would wear.
His scent saturated her entire being.
"Luna—!"
Ruby's shocked exclamation exploded beside me, sending ripples through the previously calm waters like a stone thrown into a still lake.
Every eye in the ballroom instantly focused on me.
The music faltered first, then stopped abruptly. Champagne bottles suspended mid-pour, servers frozen in place.
I heard whispers surge toward me from all directions like a tide:
"Didn't the Alpha say the Luna was feeling unwell—"
"Now both of them are here, this is—"
Feeling unwell...
So that's how it was. That's how my husband had placated them, spinning such a pathetic lie.
I didn't move a muscle.
My wolf, Kara, let out a low whimper deep in my consciousness—not anger, but something deeper, something that had finally reached the limit of what it could endure.
Alexander was walking toward me now, his steps hurried, using his tall frame to shield Faye from view.
He stopped three paces away, his azure eyes scanning over me as he lowered his voice so only I could hear:
"Scarlett, your timing is... inappropriate."
I stared at him without speaking, but I didn't need to question him. Guilty consciences always came prepared with excuses.
"There are Council representatives here tonight. I simply needed a female companion," he continued, his tone shifting to that official cadence he used to placate subordinates in Council meetings—not the voice one used with a wife. "Your position as Luna won't change in any way, I assure you. We can discuss this matter at home, but right now—"
He assured me.
I almost laughed out loud.
The tone of someone granting favors. He was actually discussing my own identity with me in the voice of a benefactor.
Five years ago, he had been nothing more than a fallen Alpha, ruthlessly abandoned by Faye, marginalized by his own pack, standing at the gates of my father's territory with eyes worn down by years of hardship.
I had been the one to walk toward him.
I had chosen him.
I had brought him home.
I had publicly announced the merger of our two territories at my father's memorial service.
I had advocated for him time and again, convincing each dissatisfied elder one by one, even letting everyone believe he had been the mastermind behind it all.
I had personally molded him into what he was today.
And now he stood here, bestowing "assurances" upon me as if everything I had was his to give.
Rage boiled inside me like molten lava, Kara roaring in the depths of my consciousness, demanding I tear apart this ungrateful man before me. But I forced myself to remain calm, because true strength never loses composure in front of a crowd.
"Alexander."
I spoke, my voice not loud, but in such dead silence, everyone in the ballroom could hear every word clearly.
"This is the territory my father left behind," I said, meeting his eyes directly, making each word clear and forceful. "So I'll only say this once: make her leave this place. Or you can both get out together."
Absolute silence surrounded us.
Even Alexander fell quiet, staring at me intently, his jaw clenched tight, his eyes holding an expression I had never seen before.
It wasn't anger—it was closer to the kind of discomfort and panic that only surfaces when forced to confront something one has been deliberately avoiding.
I tasted power in that moment, that intoxicating sense of control.
For the first time in three years, I saw fear in Alexander's eyes.
Fear of losing everything he now possessed, fear of returning to the state of having nothing that he'd known five years ago.
"Scarlett," he finally spoke, his voice somewhat hoarse, "you don't understand how complex this situation is—"
"I understand perfectly," I cut him off, taking a step forward.
"I understand that you've been having affairs behind your lawful wife's back with the woman who abandoned you. I understand that you've let everyone in the pack know I've been kept in the dark. And I understand that you're now trying to use my patience and tolerance as cover for your sordid behavior."
Faye stepped out from behind Alexander, her green eyes flashing with defiance.
"Scarlett, you're always so aggressive. Can't we discuss this calmly?"
I turned to her, my lips curving into a cold arc.
"Fine, let's discuss it. Shall we talk about how you seduced a married man? Or how graciously I should share my husband with you?"
As my words hung in the air, the atmosphere in the ballroom grew even more tense.
I could feel everyone holding their breath, waiting to see how this drama would unfold.
Alexander had said “somewhere,” and he’d meant it literally. No gala lights. No red carpet. No cameras. Just a black SUV leaving the city at dawn, heading north on the Hudson Valley roads while the sky was still bruised purple and pink. Evelyn sat in the passenger seat—jeans, soft sweater, hair in a loose braid, thermos of coffee between them. Alexander drove. No driver today. No security detail. Just them. She watched the skyline shrink in the side mirror until it disappeared behind trees and rolling hills. “Where are we going?” she asked for the third time. He glanced at her. Small smile tugging at his mouth—the one she was starting to recognize as real. “You’ll see.” She rolled her eyes but didn’t push. The quiet felt good. No agenda. No performance. They drove for almost two hours. Past small towns, farms, the river glinting on their left. He turned off the highway onto a narrow road lined with maples, leaves just starting to turn gold and red. Finally, he pulled into a
Alexander had said “somewhere,” and he’d meant it literally.No gala lights. No red carpet. No cameras.Just a black SUV leaving the city at dawn, heading north on the Hudson Valley roads while the sky was still bruised purple and pink.Evelyn sat in the passenger seat—jeans, soft sweater, hair in a loose braid, thermos of coffee between them. Alexander drove. No driver today. No security detail. Just them.She watched the skyline shrink in the side mirror until it disappeared behind trees and rolling hills.“Where are we going?” she asked for the third time.He glanced at her. Small smile tugging at his mouth—the one she was starting to recognize as real.“You’ll see.”She rolled her eyes but didn’t push. The quiet felt good. No agenda. No performance.They drove for almost two hours. Past small towns, farms, the river glinting on their left. He turned off the highway onto a narrow road lined with maples, leaves just starting to turn gold and red.Finally, he pulled into a gravel dri
She reached up. Touched his jaw. The same way he’d touched hers during the photos. Slow. Deliberate.He didn’t pull away.“I’m not asking for forever,” she whispered. “I’m asking you to stop acting like we’re already over.”His hand came up. Covered hers on his face.Held it there.“I’m trying to protect you,” he said. “From me.”She searched his eyes.“I don’t need protection from you.”His thumb brushed her wrist. Pulse jumping under his touch.“You should.”She stepped closer. Chest to chest.“Then why did you hold my knee under the table?”His gaze dropped to her mouth.“Because I couldn’t not touch you.”She rose on her toes.He met her halfway.The kiss was slow this time. Not desperate like the car. Not performative.Real.Soft.His hands slid to her waist. Pulled her flush against him.She wrapped her arms around his neck.He backed her gently against the island.Lifted her onto it.She gasped into his mouth.He stepped between her legs. Hands on her thighs. Pushing the sweate
Sunday brunch with his mother had always been a battlefield disguised as a meal. Alexander stared at his reflection in the master bathroom mirror, adjusting the collar of his charcoal button-down. No tie today, casual for her standards, but still sharp enough to remind everyone who he was. Evelyn was in the walk-in closet, choosing something from the rack Simone had left behind. He could hear the soft rustle of fabric, the occasional sigh. He hadn’t touched her since the gala night. Not once. After the car kiss, after carrying her to bed, after everything they’d both pulled back. Silent agreement. Rebuilding walls that had cracked too wide. He told himself it was smart. Necessary. He told himself he wasn’t running. The door opened behind him. Evelyn stepped out in a soft cream sweater dress—simple, elegant, knee-length, with long sleeves and a modest neckline. Her hair was loose, waves framing her face. Minimal makeup. Gold hoops. She looked like herself. Not the
The photographer arrived , right on the new schedule Alexander had requested. Evelyn heard the doorbell from the studio—soft chime, polite interruption. She’d spent the afternoon finishing the edges of her storm painting, adding just enough gold threads to make the clouds look like they might par
Alexander ended the last conference call at exactly 2:47 p.m. and snapped his laptop shut harder than necessary.The numbers were perfect. Nakamura’s team had responded positively to the vague “personal stability” update Elena fed them this morning. The merger timeline was locked. Everything was pr
The rain stopped sometime after midnight. Evelyn noticed because the constant drumming on her window finally went quiet, leaving the city strangely hushed. She’d been painting for hours—brush in one hand, phone in the other, music low in her earbuds. Indigo and rose and gold spilling across the c
The penthouse bedroom smelled like rain-soaked city air, expensive cologne, and the faint trace of gold shimmer from her dress still clinging to the sheets. Evelyn woke slowly, body heavy with the kind of exhaustion that comes after too much adrenaline and too little sleep. Sunlight sliced throug






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