LOGINMillie-Rose lost everything she’d worked for since the age of four in a single day; her career, her reputation, and the life she was about to marry into, when a test revealed she was pregnant… despite never being touched all her life.Scandal followed. Betrayal cut deep. And running became her only chance at survival.But there’s one truth she can’t outrun: the child she carries belongs to Alpha Braham, a werewolf king with power, patience, and a claim she never agreed to.She escaped the world.She rebuilt her life.But how will she escape him?
View MoreMILLIE-ROSE’S POV
There was a knot in my stomach. A gnawing, ominous anxiety. The more I scrolled through the comments, the tighter it pulled. I was almost gasping in the confinement of my car, the tinted windows doing nothing to stop the feeling of claustrophobia creeping up my spine. “Wow, congratulations to her.” “She's a pretty actress. I've been a fan of hers since she was little. It's so great seeing her getting married.” “But isn't she too young? Congratulations anyway.” I kept scrolling, searching for the comment that had triggered this unease but nothing stood out. They were all the usual suspects. Well-wishers. Haters. Keyboard warriors dissecting every inch of my public life like they paid rent in it. With a frustrated sigh, I locked my phone and dropped it into my purse like it had personally offended me. I leaned back in the leather seat and took a deep breath. Maybe that would help. It didn’t. The knot stayed, unmoved and unbothered. What the hell was wrong with me? Was this... wedding jitters? Was it normal to feel this twisted up inside the day before your wedding? I wouldn’t know. I’ve never been married before. I never had a mother to guide me through moments like these. She died when I was five. Her absence was a void I had long stopped trying to fill. My stepmother? Yeah, asking her about “wedding nerves” would earn me an eye-roll and probably an insult or three. We weren’t exactly swapping mother-daughter advice. So how was I supposed to know if this feeling was normal? “We're here, Ma'am,” the driver said as the car rolled to a stop. “Oh,” I murmured, glancing out the tinted window. The towering glass structure of my modeling agency loomed ahead, crisp and intimidating under the mid-morning sun. Callie had sent my schedule already, two photoshoots: Vogue and Elle, a lunch meeting with the directors of my upcoming movie role, and a bachelorette party later tonight. And tomorrow? I was supposed to become one with Silas Butt. Everything should feel... perfect. But my chest was tight. My palms, clammy. I was nauseous. A gnawing anxiety that clung to me like perfume I didn’t remember spraying. Was it my dress? An allergic reaction? What do I even blame this on? “Ma’am?” The driver gently called again, likely noticing how zoned out I was. “Yes, thank you,” I replied, shaking off the fog in my head as I grabbed my purse and stepped out. I put on the most collected expression I could muster, smoothing out invisible creases on my blouse. Showbiz rule 101: keep it cute even when you’re dying inside. “Good morning, Ma’am. Congratulations on your wedding tomorrow!” one of the security guards greeted me with a wide grin. “Thank you. Good morning,” I replied, smiling politely as I passed through the lobby. It wasn't just the guards, nearly everyone in the building offered a wave, a smile, a compliment about my wedding. I responded to each of them like clockwork, but I only truly breathed when I stepped into the solitude of the elevator. There, I finally let myself close my eyes and pull in deeper, longer breaths. The elevator dinged, and I stepped out, heading toward my changing room. But something tugged at my attention…Mr. Dan's office was just a few steps away. I figured I’d say a quick hello before getting ready. Except as I approached, voices filtered through the half-closed door. The words made me slow to a stop. “Oh, she's so pathetic. I mean, she’s got all this glam and yet zero brain,” came a giggle. That was Roe. One of the other models. One of the loudest ones. “I know, right?” Daisy chimed in. “Like why would she get married now? She’s going to tank her whole career. Just watch. She’s too dumb to see it.” My gut twisted tighter. Ah. Another roast session. These girls never missed an opportunity to gather like mean witches and rip me apart for sport. I’d known about their little gossip circles for years. And yet, I never confronted them. Why give them the satisfaction? But then I heard another voice… one that sent a chill down my spine. “All that beauty gone to waste,” Mr. Dan scoffed. What? Mr Dan? Since when did he become part of the clique? “I wish someone would warn her,” he added mockingly. “The poor girl. She’s dealing with trash.” A tightness formed in my chest. Warn me? Warn me about what? And how am I dealing with trash? I was struggling with the thought of barging in to ask him what they should warn me about and what trash had to do with me when someone else spoke up. “Why should we warn her?” Roe hissed. “She walks around like she's better than everyone. Let her find out the hard way.” “She’s got nothing but her pretty face. No mother, a greedy father who uses her, a stepsister from hell… and a fiancé…” My breath hitched. A fiancé? Silas? Why was he suddenly on this ugly list? He’s the only one who’s ever shown me true kindness. He’s patient. Gentle. Nothing like the family I was cursed with. So why was he being dragged into this? “…a fiancé who doesn’t love her,” Mr. Dan finished. The words slammed into me like a truck. They weren’t done. But I was already crumbling. “If only she knew he’s only marrying her for the inheritance,” Roe whispered. “What inheritance?” Daisy gasped. “You don’t know? Her late mother left a fortune behind. She can’t touch it until she gets married or turns twenty-five. No one talks about it, but it’s true…” Gasps echoed. My blood ran cold. Enough. I staggered away from the door, my legs shaky, my thoughts spinning. My instincts dragged me to the elevator, then out the building entirely. I barely noticed the greetings or questions thrown my way. I had only one thought in my head Silas. He had to explain this. My inheritance was a secret. Barely anyone knew. So how did those hyenas find out? What did they mean he didn’t love me? My heart pounded like war drums. My hands trembled. I was a breath away from throwing up. But I held it all in. I needed answers. And I needed them now. The driver pulled up the car just in time, and I climbed in wordlessly. Thirty minutes later, I was at Silas’s door. It was locked…but I had a key. My hands trembled as I pushed it into the lock and turned it open. “Silas, I…” My voice faltered. Everything inside me collapsed at the scene before me. Moans filled the air like sirens. My steps slowed, paralyzed. My mouth fell open. My phone dropped to the floor with a loud crack. In front of me, wrapped in each other like lovers in a bad romance novel, were Silas… …and my stepsister. Martha.BRAHAM’S POVThe master bedroom was a testament to Raphael Harvey’s cowardice and Sabrina’s ego.The walls had been repainted a soft, sickly cream, and the heavy velvet curtains that June had loved according to the little Millie could remember were gone, replaced by light, airy silks. It was a room designed to forget the dead. As I stepped over the threshold, the scent of the room hit my wolf senses like a physical blow—Raphael’s lingering scent of expensive tobacco and fear, mixed with the cloying, synthetic musk Sabrina used to mask her true nature.They had slept here. They had celebrated here while June’s daughter grew up down the hall, oblivious to the blood on the sheets.Millie was already in the ensuite bathroom, her sneakers walking frantically on the marble as she tapped on the tiles. "Help me search, Braham! The key said bedroom, it has to be here!"Renan who got here earlier stood by the door, his eyes scanning the room with tactical detachment. "We’ve searched the walls,
MILLIE’S POVThe silence in our bedroom was suffocating. It was the kind of heavy, pressurized quiet that made my ears ring.I sat on the edge of the mattress, the "last letter" from my mother clutched in my hands. Beside it, spread out like pieces of a broken mirror, were the older files we had recovered months ago—her first letter and the warnings from her friends Eleanor and Margaret. I stared at them until the words began to swim."Something happened to her mind, Braham," I whispered, my voice sounding brittle and thin. "In these first letters from early 2004, she was a detective. She was tracking Sabrina’s movements, noting the amounts she gave her, and documenting the affair with Raphael. She was so close to casting them out. She was sharp. She was sure."I smoothed the last letter with a trembling thumb, my heart aching for the woman who wrote it."But in this one... the one she wrote right before she died at St. Catherine’s... she sounded like she was second-guessing her own s
MILLIE’S POVThe cream-colored envelope sat on the coffee table like a live grenade. We had gathered in the living room—Braham, Callie, Renan, and me—but the air felt tight, suffocating. Upstairs, Leo was asleep, the only innocent thing left in this house.My hands wouldn't stop shaking. Every time I looked at my mother’s elegant script, I saw the four-year-old version of myself, oblivious and crying in a hospital chair while the woman I loved most in the world was writing her final goodbye."I can't," I whispered, the words catching in my dry throat. I pushed the stationery toward Braham. "I can't read it. If I look at the ink, I’ll see her dying. Please."Braham didn't hesitate. He sat beside me, his large, warm hand covering mine for a second before he picked up the pages. His voice was deep, a steady anchor in the storm of my mind, as he began to read her words aloud.“My dearest Millie-Rose...”As Braham read about her love for me, a sob escaped my throat that I couldn’t choke ba
JUNE’S POVMay 17th, 2004 St. Catherine’s Medical CenterMy hands trembled as I tried to hold the pen steady. The simple act of writing had become nearly impossible—my body was failing, shutting down piece by piece, and I knew I didn't have much time left.But I had to do this. For Millie.The private room was quiet except for the steady beep of monitors tracking my deteriorating vitals. Raphael had just left to take Millie home for the night. My sweet baby girl, only four years old, had cried herself to sleep in the chair beside my bed earlier. She didn't understand why Mommy couldn't come home. Why Mommy kept getting weaker.I didn't understand either. Not fully. But I had my suspicions, and I needed to make sure Millie knew the truth when she was old enough to handle it.I pulled out the cream-colored stationery I’d asked Edna to bring me—one of the few things I could still trust in this place. Edna, my night nurse, had been a godsend these past weeks. Kind, competent, and most im
MILLIE'S POVI was having the best day I'd had since New Year’s Day.The paternity results had vindicated us completely. The agency restructuring was going smoothly. Leo had asked if we could start planning the wedding "for real this time" at breakfast. Everything felt like it was finally settling
BRAHAM'S POVThe genetic test results were due today. The lab had promised them by noon, delivered directly to the Council and to our legal team simultaneously.It was 10:47 AM, and something felt wrong."You're pacing," Renan observed from where he sat on my office couch. "The results will prove w
MILLIE'S POV The Correctional Facility looked even more depressing in January than it was the last time I visited my dad. Gray concrete walls. Chain-link fences topped with razor wire. Guard towers looming against an overcast sky. Everything about the place radiated bleakness and regret. Braha
MILLIE'S POVI wore sunglasses, a baseball cap pulled low, and one of Braham's oversized hoodies. Not exactly a sophisticated disguise, but enough to avoid immediate recognition in a hospital hallway.The media circus outside County General was worse than I'd imagined. News vans, cameras, reporters
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