Fiona’s POV
I look around the bedroom as I get out of bed, taking in each piece of furniture and all the memories that come up. Most of them are good.
This marriage has been a good one.
It might have begun as a contractual arrangement, spanning three years, but for me, it quickly evolved into something deeper. I once believed the same was true for Micah, until I witnessed him at the hospital with Rowena.
Anyway, our three-year pact is nearly at its end. Now, I can step away, allowing him to be with the love of his life, raising their child together, while I fade into the background.
My phone rings; it's Antonia, my best friend.
"Hey, how are you?" She asks as I pick up, staring vacantly around the room.
"As okay as I can be, I guess. I knew that this marriage always had an expiration date," I reply dully.
"I get it, but I thought with how well you two got along, he might want to extend the contract."
Tears well up as I recall all of our brunches and phone calls, where I raved about my marriage with Micah.
"He only married me to provoke his father, the King. Seems that's all Micah does—anything to infuriate his father. He knew the King wanted him to marry Rowena, so marrying a pauper with a bad bloodline was his way out."
"You don't know anything about your bloodline," Antonia says. I can feel her rolling her eyes through the phone.
"Do you really think a dormant wolf belongs to a good bloodline?" I ask her, agitated.
"That didn't seem to matter to Micah. He never cared that your wolf was dormant and you had no scent."
I rise from the bed and pace the room. "No, he didn't care because it was a marriage with an expiration date. He didn't plan to have babies with me. I was just a tool to provoke his father, and I got the million I needed for my Dad's surgery, so it was a win-win."
Sensing my mood, Antonia changes the topic. "Speaking of your father, how is he doing?" she asks, bringing a smile to my face.
Fenris isn't my biological father. I was an abandoned baby with no knowledge of my origins. It was Fenris who rescued me from a trafficker, a true hero in my life. He used to be a billionaire, but three years ago, he suffered bankruptcy, leaving him in financial ruins.
Coincidentally, it was during this difficult time that he also fell seriously ill and required a million dollars for a life-saving surgery.
It was Micah who stepped in and provided the financial support that ultimately saved my father's life and no matter what was happening right now, I would forever be grateful to him for it.
I am about to answer when I hear the front door open. I quickly update her on my father’s condition and hang up, grateful that she ends the call by letting me know she would always be there for me. It gives me courage to get over with what I need to do.
I head to the living room. Micah stands by the large windows, gazing at the gardens.
I simply watch him for a moment. He's aware of my presence, even without the scent he can identify me due to the perfume I apply daily. He appears content and in a good mood, probably from spending time with Rowena.
"Good evening, wife," he greets without turning around.
Those words stab at my heart. He's used them every evening when we meet, and the knowledge that I'll never hear them again makes me want to retreat to the bedroom and shut myself in.
"Good evening, husband," I reply, though the words come out strained. He approaches, wearing a frown on his face. As he caresses my face, I lean into his touch, realizing it's out of habit, not affection.
He now has his true love back in his life, making me expendable.
"There's something I want to talk to you about," he states.
I open my eyes and notice the slight curve of his lips. How can he be cheerful about this conversation? Is he eager to dispose of me and replace me with Rowena?
"I have something to discuss with you as well," I respond, my gaze locked on the ground. This will be one of the hardest things I've ever done. I don't want to end this marriage or part with this man, but I refuse to share him.
"You go first," he urges, his tone light.
"As you know, our marriage contract expires in a few days," I begin, and his lips curl up a bit more. Micah has never been cruel, and yet here he is, smiling at the prospect of our divorce.
"It does," he acknowledges, leaving the rest of the words unspoken.
I swallow hard and meet his gaze. I won't be timid about this.
"I want the divorce now. There's no need to wait those extra days," I state, my words cold and emotionless. It's the only way I can prevent myself from throwing myself into his arms and begging him to choose me.
The smile fades from his face, and his eyes harden, turning him into a statue.
"If that's what you wish. I hope it's not a decision you'll come to regret," he nods, then walks out of the apartment. I watch him depart, my throat aching as I resist the urge to call him back.
I pull the divorce papers I had prepared out of my bag, staring at them. The stark black and white blurs as tears flow down my cheeks.
I take up the pen and sign my name on the divorce papers before picking up the bag I've packed and making my way to the door.
I glance back at the room, where so much joy was once shared. All I've ever wanted is for him to be happy, and I hope he finds that happiness with Rowena.
With one last wistful look, I exit the place that has been my home for the past three years.
____________________
Micah’s POV
"If you can't meet my standards at your job, I'll find someone who can. Are all the people I hired incompetent?" I roar at the back of one of my senior officers as he retreats.
I am the founder of Lycan Incorporated, a company I've built from the ground up. It stands as one of the most successful businesses in all the kingdoms, and it has made me a billionaire in my own right, without the wealth and prestige that come with royal status.
Glancing out into my office, I hear my employees' hushed whispers.
Do they forget their boss is a Lycan with acute hearing?
They mutter speculations about why I'm reprimanding everyone today, none of which come close to the truth.
A knock on my office door draws my attention, and I fix a stern gaze on my assistant, who responds with an impish grin.
"Go away, Colin," I grumble at him, but as usual, he pays no heed and enters, shutting the door behind him.
"Why do you have those flowers?" I growl at him, my eyes flickering with the wolf inside me, attempting to intimidate him.
Colin merely meets my gaze and gestures towards the flowers. "You ordered these and instructed me to bring them to you today."
In his other hand, he holds a file. "This is the list of perfume companies you requested. Take a look and choose the ones you're interested in, and I'll arrange the interviews."
I stare at him for a moment, and he flashes that cheeky grin again. Colin has been my assistant for many years, a confidant I trust with my plans and most of my secrets.
"Give me the file and dispose of those flowers," I instruct, extending my hand for the file, which he hands over.
"That'll be all for now," I tell him, maintaining a neutral tone as I watch him leave with the roses. They were intended to celebrate my third wedding anniversary with Fiona today.
Leaning back in my chair, I run my hands over my face. Opening my desk drawer, I retrieve a contract, an extension of our marriage, one that would last a lifetime.
Fiona was sweet, intelligent and affectionate, embodying everything I desired in a wife.
Until she wasn't.
Until yesterday, when she walked away from my life.
This morning, I woke up to an empty bed and a nightstand bearing signed divorce papers.
I gaze down at the contracted marriage extension papers in my hands. Rage wells up within me, and I long to tear them to shreds.
Yet, for some inexplicable reason, I cannot bring myself to do it.
I let out a sigh and return the papers to the drawer.
