Revenge of the Rejected Luna: My Three Genius Heirs

Isabelle’s POV

"You are going to need a lot of rest, Mrs. Blackwood," the doctor said, sliding the medical report across the desk towards me.

I stared at the paper, my fingers shaking as I picked it up. The words on the page blurred, but the number was clear as day.

Three… I was pregnant with triplets.

A wave of heat rushed through my chest, making my eyes sting with sudden tears. For three long years, I had lived in hell as the unwanted Luna of the Blackwood Pack.

My husband, Conall, never looked at me. He never touched me unless it was absolutely required for public appearances, and his voice was always like ice when speaking to me.

But this would change everything. These little miracles were the key to breaking down the high walls around his heart.

He was going to be a father, and we were finally going to be a real family.

"Thank you, Doctor," I whispered, standing up so fast my chair scraped loudly against the floor.

I did not wait for her to give me the usual advice about vitamins or scheduling my next prenatal appointment. I was pretty sure I could take care of those things myself. Or come back for another visit, with him.

I practically ran out of the clinic and into the busy Boston streets, holding the ultrasound picture against my chest like it was a shield.

The city air was thick and heavy and it looked like it wanted to rain but I didn't care about all that. I hailed a cab and gave the driver the address to Blackwood Holdings- his company, since I couldn't wait for him to get home, my heart hammering against my ribs the entire way.

This was going to fix us. I knew it would.

When the taxi pulled up to the glass skyscraper, I jumped out and sprinted through the grand lobby. The security guards started to step forward to scan my ID, but they froze when they recognized my face as they bowed and said, “Welcome Luna.”

I did not smile or say hello as I hurried past them and pushed my way into the private executive elevator.

As the lift shot upward toward the top floor, I closed my eyes and breathed in slowly through my nose. My wolf was humming with a strange, nervous energy that I couldn't really understand.

I thought it was just excitement, an intense rush of adrenaline because I was about to change our lives forever.

The elevator doors chimed and slid open, revealing the quiet, carpeted hallway of the executive suite.

Conall’s secretary was not at her desk, which was unusual, but I did not let it stop me.

I walked straight toward the heavy mahogany doors of his private office, my boots sinking into the thick rug.

My hand hovered over the brass handle for a split second, my pulse racing in my ears.

I smiled to myself, imagining the look of shock and joy that would finally cross his handsome, distant face.

I turned the handle and pushed the door open without knocking, eager to surprise him.

"Conall, you won't believe-"

The words died instantly in my throat, freezing the air inside my lungs.

The ultrasound sheet slipped from my fingers, fluttering harmlessly to the floor.

Conall was not working at his desk. He was on the long leather couch across the room, and he was not alone.

A beautiful, blonde woman was tangled on his lap, naked and riding his cock, her hands sliding under his shirt while his lips pressed against her neck.

The world around me seemed to stop moving, the bright office lights suddenly turning dim and blurry.

They both looked up at the sound of my voice, but there was no panic on Conall’s face. He did not rush to pull away from her, and his storm-grey eyes did not show a single ounce of guilt. He slowly pushed the woman off his lap, his expression hardening into a familiar glare of disgust and anger.

"Get out, Cynthia," Conall said, his voice smooth and completely devoid of any emotion.

The woman gave me a nasty, victorious smirk as she straightened her short dress and walked past me. She intentionally brushed her shoulder against mine, but I could not even find the strength to push her away as I stumbled two steps backwards.

I just stood there like a statue, my eyes locked on my husband as he stood up and adjusted his expensive tie.

"What are you doing here, Isabelle?" he asked, walking over to his massive desk.

"Conall," I choked out, my voice sounding incredibly small and pathetic in the quiet room. "How could you do this?"

He did not answer my question. Instead, he reached into his top drawer and pulled out a thick document.

He slid it across the polished wood, the paper making a sharp, scratching sound that grated on my raw nerves.

"Sign them," he ordered coldly, gesturing to the pages.

I looked down, my eyes straining to read the bold header at the top of the first sheet.

Divorce papers.

"You are kidding me," I whispered, shaking my head as the first tear spilled over my cheek. "We have been married for three years, Conall."

"And it was a completely business arrangement from the very start," he replied, leaning back in his chair. "You served your purpose to maintain my public image while I consolidated the pack's corporate assets."

His words felt like physical blows, knocking the remaining breath right out of my body.

"A business arrangement?" I gasped, my hand instinctively dropping to cover my flat stomach. "I loved you. I gave up everything for you and your pack."

Conall let out a short, mocking laugh that made my blood run cold.

"That was your first mistake," he said, his eyes drilling into mine with absolute indifference. "I never asked for your love, Isabelle. I asked for a compliant Luna, and frankly, you have become too much of a liability."

"A liability?" I repeated, the room starting to tilt dangerously around me.

"You are weak," he stated plainly, as if he were discussing a bad quarterly financial report. "The pack elders despise you, and I am tired of making excuses for your lack of presence. We are finished."

I stared at him, desperately searching his cold face for any sign of hesitation or hidden pain.

There was nothing. He meant every single word.

The secret about the triplets burned in the back of my throat, a heavy weight that threatened to choke me.

I wanted to scream it in his face. I wanted to tell him that he was throwing away his own flesh and blood.

But as I looked at the absolute cruelty in his eyes, a sudden, fierce instinct flared up inside my chest.

He did not deserve them. He did not deserve to know they existed.

If he found out, he would take them away from me and raise them to be just as heartless and miserable as he was.

"I won't sign them," I whispered, my voice trembling with a mixture of intense grief and growing rage.

"You will," Conall countered, his voice dropping into a dangerous tone that usually made me tremble. "If you do not sign them quietly, I will have the pack guards throw you out on the street with absolutely nothing."

The final thread of hope inside me snapped, leaving a vast, empty void behind.

I looked down at the floor and saw the ultrasound picture lying near his expensive leather shoes.

He had not even noticed it. He was too busy looking at me like I was a piece of garbage he needed to throw away.

I did not pick it up. I did not want anything from this room to belong to me anymore.

"Goodbye, Conall," I said, my voice suddenly going dead and flat.

He did not look up from his computer screen as I turned my back on him.

I grabbed the door handle, my vision completely obscured by a thick wall of hot tears.

I bolted out of the executive suite, my legs moving purely on survival instinct as I fled the building.

The elevator ride down felt like an eternity, and the moment the doors opened into the lobby, I broke into a full sprint.

I burst through the glass revolving doors and stumbled out into the harsh reality of the city.

The storm had finally broken, and a heavy, freezing rain began to pelt down on my face, mixing with the tears streaming down my cheeks.

I clutched my stomach tightly with both hands, sobbing uncontrollably as I ran blindly into the dark downpour, my entire world collapsing into ash behind me.