For revenge

Wyatt’s POV

I had just leaned back in my leather chair, twirling a pen between my fingers, when the thought crossed my mind—

When is Evelyn finally going to call?

It irritated me more than it should have. Reduced to sitting by the phone, waiting like some foolish kid for a text. Or some obsessed teenager. I kept telling myself it was ridiculous; I was not love-struck, I was not that kind of fool.

Still, the anticipation was there, a small, prickly thing under my skin.

For all her pride, I knew her. She wouldn’t let this one drag on too long, not when the pack’s survival relied on those mines and, by extension, on the investments I controlled. She’d come crawling, sooner or later. That certainty felt oddly satisfying — her groveling for my help.

Right then my phone buzzed.

“Mr. Wyatt, you have a call. It’s Alex, Evelyn’s assistant,” my assistant murmured, setting the device on speaker and sliding it across the desk.

I straightened without thinking, a smirk tugging at my lips. Right on time, Evelyn.

Before I could answer, Judy swayed over from the sofa where she’d been pretending to scroll through her phone. Her perfume hit first — expensive, too sweet — and then her laugh as she leaned close, lips dangerously near my ear.

“Wyatt, is that Evelyn? Why don’t you—” she began, in a sweet tone meant to be flirtatious.

I held up my hand sharply. “Shut it, Judy.” My voice carried more seriousness than I’d intended. She blinked, startled by the abruptness, and for a moment the room felt quieter.

“Know your place,” I added, because sometimes she always seemed to forget when to discern moments.

The line went on. Alex’s voice was steady, the professional tone he used when he had bad news or strict instructions.

“Mr. Wyatt, Miss Evelyn has requested a meeting.”

There it was. Clear, direct, no greetings or beating around the bush — classic Evelyn. No dramatics, no begging, just a demand for presence. I tapped the pen against my desk, drawing out the silence just because it felt good to savor the moment.

They would have to know that their meeting wasn’t exactly my priority.

“Mm. Tell her I’ll check my schedule. I’ll have my assistant call back.” I kept my voice smooth. Let it sound casual. Let it sound distant. That was the point.

“Yes, sir.” The line cut.

The second the phone disconnected, I spun toward my assistant. My pulse had picked up without my permission.

“When can we meet her?” I asked, the question quicker than I’d meant.

He blinked, clearly taken aback by the sudden urgency in my tone. “Uh… Mr. Wyatt, you used to dislike Miss Evelyn and avoided her. Why are you in such a hurry to meet her now?”

The question was pointed, and I felt the irritation rise. “Just check my calendar,” I snapped. “Set it up as soon as possible.”

He hesitated — the kind of pause people have when they’re trying not to say something that would be foolish to say. Then his lips twitched as if he wanted to laugh or cry; I couldn’t tell which.

“If only you had known this would happen, you wouldn’t have pulled your investments and stripped them from mines,” he said, not hiding the comment in the least.

I scowled, straightening in my chair. “Don’t misunderstand. I don’t care about her.” The words tasted flat and stale even as they left my mouth. “I don’t care. I dislike Evelyn infact—and it was my grandmother who pushed me into this. I’m not doing this out of choice.”

My assistant’s eyes were skeptical. He didn’t buy it, and I didn’t expect him to.

Judy, of course, wasn’t as restrained by professional caution as my assistant. She smirked and perched on the edge of my desk like she owned the wood.

“My, my. Someone looks overly excited.”

I glared at her. “Can you shut it?” I said flatly. There was a fine line between amusement and annoyance, and Judy stepped over it countless times when she wanted me to react. Tonight, I wanted nothing more than to watch Evelyn grovel. I didn’t need her distractions.

“Oh please,” she scoffed, tossing her hair with practiced casualness. “You just jumped like a man who’s been waiting by the phone all day.”

“I’m not eager,” I shot back. “I just don’t like unresolved issues. Evelyn thinks she can walk away and still get everything she wants. Someone has to put her in her place.”

“And that someone just happens to be you?” Judy arched a brow, the challenge obvious in her tone.

I ignored her jab, though my jaw clenched. “Snce she requested this meeting, she’ll get it.” The certainty in my voice was both proclamation and hope; I needed it to be true. I wanted the meeting to happen.

I grabbed my coat, feeling the stiff fabric slide under my hand as a kind of armor. I was already marching toward the door in my head.

I paused then turned back “And you’re coming with me, Judy.”

She blinked, surprised, and then delighted. “What? You want me there?”

“You heard me,” I said flatly.

“Nice.” She smirked

“It’ll remind her she’s not the only one who can have at it.” The phrase felt both cruel and necessary. Let her taste being on the wrong side of power for once. Let her feel the slight of being ignored. Maybe then she’d learn.

Her smirk deepened, satisfied; Judy loved the idea of spectacle. She lived for it. For her, provocation was a performance.

It wasn’t about feelings. It wasn’t about wanting her. It was about proving Evelyn didn’t matter to me anymore.

…Right?

The doubt crept under my skin, small and ridiculous and inconvenient. I pushed it down. There was enough time for that later. For now, I had to meet her first and listen to her beg.