Married With The Playboy Billionaire

ANGELA’S POV

The rain had stopped hours ago, but you know how it is—the smell just lingers. Wet dirt, damp leaves, that sharp tang of stone after it’s been soaked. I stood at the window with my fingertips against the cold glass, staring out into nothing. Just shadows. Just dark.

But honestly, my mind wasn’t here. It was stuck back there—three years ago, the day Julius stood before the entire Crimson Pack and called me his mate.

God, I can still hear it. The cheers, the stomping paws, that wild, buzzing energy filling the air. His voice had been steady, proud, and when he said my name… my chest almost split open with joy. I’d wanted that moment my whole life. Little-girl-me dreamed of it, like one of those fairytales you swear could come true if you just believed hard enough.

And being the Beta’s daughter, well, I was used to the spotlight. People always looked my way, treated me special. But Julius? He wasn’t just some guy. He was the Julius. Broad shoulders, tall, eyes the color of the ocean—the kind of man who looked like he’d been carved straight out of an old legend. Just walking into a room, he could silence it. And don’t even get me started on the way every she-wolf stared at him. They wanted him. All of them. And they didn’t even bother hiding it.

But he chose me. Me.

People said we were perfect, and maybe, for a while, they weren’t wrong. Our mating ceremony was this over-the-top, storybook kind of thing. Candles everywhere, silks that shimmered like water, jewels so heavy I swear they bruised my skin.

My gown sparkled under the moonlight, and Luna herself placed a diamond crown on my head. And Julius—he looked at me, eyes dark and steady, and swore in front of everyone that he’d love me, protect me, stand by me forever. And I believed him. With everything in me, I believed him.

But now?

I pressed my palm harder against the glass, trying to push back the emptiness clawing its way through me. Three years. Three years, and those promises had turned into nothing but empty words. The love? The warmth? That secret bond only mates are supposed to feel? Gone. Dead. All that’s left is this ache that doesn’t let me breathe.

And I know why.

He’s with her again. Whoever she is. I don’t know her name, her scent, her laugh, but I know she’s real. I feel her every single time he betrays me. The bond between us twists like it’s alive, like someone’s jamming a knife right through it. When he’s in her bed, I feel it. When he gives her his smile, his touch—I feel that too. And it cuts deeper every damn time.

And I know the reason. Everyone does. Three years and still no pup. No heir. That’s why.

Doctors said nothing was wrong with me—just keep trying, keep praying. So I did. Night after night, I begged the moon goddess to hear me. And every time I felt the tiniest symptom—bloated, nauseous, a day late—I let myself hope, only to have it crushed when the test came back negative. Again.

At first, Julius was patient. But as the whispers grew louder—his Luna’s barren—he changed. He pulled away. And when I reminded him we should pray together, he shrugged it off, said it was my business, not his.

I told myself it was about bloodlines. That if I gave him a child, he’d come back. That the old Julius—the one who held me at night and whispered we were a team—would return. I held onto that memory like a lifeline, but the harder I clung, the faster it slipped away.

A knock startled me. I jerked, swiping at my cheeks. I hadn’t even noticed I was crying again. The door creaked open and Mary slipped inside. Just seventeen, but sharp as a blade and braver than most wolves twice her age. She’d seen me at my worst and never judged.

“Luna Angela,” she said softly, careful. “Forgive the interruption, but Miss Kimberly is here to see you.”

Kimberly. Just hearing her name made me smile—small, shaky, but real. She was exactly who I needed.

“Let her in,” I told Mary, trying to steady my voice.

A moment later, Kimberly breezed in, all perfume and boldness, like someone had splashed color across my gray world. That was just her—effortless, confident, a little loud. We’d been glued at the hip since we were five. She was more like a sister than a friend. Sunshine with lipstick. And somehow, she always knew when I was slipping too far.

We fell into chatter, the usual rhythm—fashion, pack gossip, ridiculous rumors from the capital. Normally, it made me laugh. Today, it didn’t. My smile felt brittle, like it would crack apart if I held it too long.

She noticed, of course. Kimberly always noticed. Her face softened, her voice lowered. “It’s Julius again, isn’t it?”

The lump in my throat was too thick for words, so I just nodded.

Her sigh was sharp with pity and anger. “He was with her again?”

I blinked fast, fighting the sting in my eyes, pressing a hand to my chest. “I felt it through the bond. Kim, it’s not in my head anymore. It hurts. Physically hurts. Like someone’s tearing pieces out of me.”

She grabbed my hands, squeezed tight. Her eyes burned with loyalty. “Angela, you can’t keep letting him destroy you. Leave him. Divorce him. You’re young, you’re gorgeous, you’re strong—you don’t need to chain yourself to someone who doesn’t deserve you.”

Her words cut deep, because they were true. I’d thought about it—God, I’d thought about it so many times. Lying awake, staring at the ceiling, imagining freedom. But when it came down to it, I froze. Every time.

“I can’t,” I whispered.

“Why not?” she shot back, brows furrowing.

I looked her in the eyes, my voice trembling. “Because… I’m pregnant.”

That morning, I’d woken up after a week of feeling like hell. Headaches, nausea, just this constant heaviness I couldn’t shake. My mom had finally said, Why don’t you just take a test, Angela? and I thought, Fine. Just to shut her up, not because I was expecting anything.

Honestly, I didn’t know what I was expecting. Maybe another reminder that my body had failed me again. But definitely not two pink lines.

I stared at them like they were some cruel trick. My first reaction? Not joy, not even shock—just disbelief. But then I grabbed another brand, and another, like maybe the first test was lying. They all told me the same thing.

And suddenly this storm of emotion slammed into me. Not fear, not exactly. It was deeper. Like something raw and primal had just snapped awake inside me.

I wasn’t just Angela anymore. I was going to be a mother. After years of begging the moon goddess, of praying through tears, of spiraling after every negative test… here it was. This tiny bean-sized life, growing inside me. A miracle.

And I couldn’t help but think—Julius. Oh, he’ll be over the moon. I can already see his face when I tell him. Our prayers answered at last.

Before I could even repeat the words again, Kimberly’s squeal nearly shattered my eardrums. I swear, it was so shrill I half-expected the guards to burst through the door. Then she launched herself at me, wrapping me up so tight I almost dropped the test strip still clutched in my hand.

“Oh my Goddess, Angie!” she practically sang. “You’re going to be a mom at last!”

Her happiness was so big, so loud, it broke me. I laughed through my tears, voice shaking. “I know. It doesn’t even feel real yet. I’m terrified, Kim. But… I’m happy too. Happier than I thought I’d be.”

She pulled back just enough to search my face, her smile soft. “This is the best news, girl.”

I wiped my eyes on the back of my hand, trying to smile. “Yeah. I guess it is.”

Kim beamed at me like I’d just handed her the stars. “I’m proud of you, Angie. Honestly, I am. You’re stronger than you think, and you’re going to be an incredible mom.”

Her words sank deep, warming the cracks inside me. I squeezed her hand and whispered, “And you’re going to be the best aunt.”

That got me another fierce hug. We stayed like that until our tears dried, then drifted into easier talk—silly baby names, midnight cravings, all the little what-ifs that suddenly made this feel real.

Finally, I nudged her shoulder and teased, “Enough about me. When are you going to introduce me to this mystery guy you’ve been hiding?”

Her ears went pink, and she looked away with that sheepish grin. “Soon. I promise.”

I smirked. “Blushing like that? Must be serious.”

She just giggled, swore she’d come back tomorrow with soup, gossip, and a whole new list of ridiculous baby names. And when I closed the door behind her, I still had a smile on my lips.