5

I felt the air in the room turn stagnant as I stared at the message from Paige Gardner. "Serena’s people want a meeting," I muttered.

"For the 'Angel-Witch'?" Carllo snorted as we drove. "Tell them to shove their songwriting request. They’re offering a hundred grand just to buy your talent and slap her name on it."

I didn't answer. I just blacklisted the number. I was done being the ghostwriter for Andrew’s favorites. After dropping my things at Carllo's, I headed straight for the Wolfe Industries Tower.

The Wolfe Pack’s influence was an ancient, lumbering beast, but eight years ago, Andrew had carved out a new legacy. He’d built the Tower as a monument to his own brand of power, outstripping his father, Damon Hawthorne, until the entire Hawthorne Council was essentially riding his coattails.

A year ago, Lydiasa Hawthorne had insisted I work in the Alpha’s executive office as a lowly clerk, hoping to "spark the bond." Instead, I had spent a year watching the man I loved ignore me from twenty feet away.

The office was buzzing. Elaine Brooks was handing out treats because she was leaving on maternity leave. I took a piece of candy, offered a tight smile, and went to my desk to finish my resignation letter.

Elaine leaned over, her eyes wide. "Lanka, don't tell me you're nesting too?"

I felt the weight of a dozen stares. In a pack office, the Omega clerk always drew eyes, especially after Andrew had once growled at a group of enforcers for burying my desk in forest lilies. No one knew we were mated, but they knew I was "off-limits."

"No," I said, my fingers flying over the keys. "I'm quitting for a different reason."

"But shouldn't you and your husband be trying?" Elaine whispered. "You're at your peak. Get the pups out of the way so you can get back to the dance floor."

"I'd love to," I replied, not looking up. "But it takes two to shift that gear, and my partner isn't interested in the ignition."

Elaine’s jaw dropped. She’d seen Andrew—unrecognized—dropping me off once and assumed he was just some low-rank wolf. "You mean... he's shooting blanks? Is it a scent-clog? Bad breath?"

I’d once joked that we never kissed, and the office rumor mill had turned that into a legend that my husband had such foul breath it killed the mating urge. I didn't bother correcting her. I liked the idea of Andrew Wolfe, the pristine Alpha King, being labeled with halitosis. I actually let out a small, bitter snort.

"Is this the 'productivity' I’m paying for?"

The voice was like a glacier cracking. My smile died. Andrew stood there, stone-faced, his presence looming like a thunderstorm. Daniel Cho stood behind him, looking at his shoes.

Elaine went pale. The Alpha’s aura was suffocating. I was about to speak when Andrew glanced at Elaine. "Congratulations on the pup. Give her the bonus, Daniel. Let’s have some 'joy' in this place for once."

The tension broke for everyone but me. Andrew’s golden eyes remained locked on mine. "Lanka. My office. Now."

"Good Lord," Elaine hissed as I stood up. "He’s terrifyingly hot. Why waste your life on a sterile husband with bad breath when you could try to climb that mountain?"

"She’s been under his nose for a year," someone whispered. "If he wanted a stray like her, he’d have bitten by now. Besides, he’s clearly marking Serena Wolfe these days."

The sting was a physical needle in my chest. It wasn't just a year. I was three days old when he first held me in the Silverline Medical Center. I had been "around" for twenty-two years. If there was no love now, there never would be.

I walked into his office and placed two sets of papers on the mahogany desk.

"Is this your version of reflection?" he asked, not looking up from his files.

"Sign them both, Mr. Wolfe. It’ll save us both the headache."

He looked up then. His eyes were ice. "I don’t have time for your theatrics. Take them back."

"I’m serious, Andrew."

He tossed his silver pen. It clattered against the wood, the sound echoing in my heart. "Divorce? On what grounds? 'Azoospermia and bad breath'?" His voice was a low, dangerous rumble. "You know the penalty for slandering an Alpha's virility."

I felt a flush of guilt, my lashes fluttering. "I didn't start the rumors. The reasons for the divorce are spelled out clearly in the document."

Andrew flipped to the second page. His face contorted. "'No love. No heat. A marriage in name only.' Is that right?"

"I'm just stating the facts."

Andrew stood up. His long legs ate the distance between us in two strides. He cornered me against the desk, his massive frame blocking out the light. He leaned in, his scent of cedar and rain overwhelming my senses.

"Stating facts?" he hissed into my ear. "Who was the man last night who made you scream until your voice broke? The one you clutched like a lifeline, begging him not to stop?"

The memory made my eyes sting. The more fire there was in the dark, the colder the morning felt. I pushed against his chest. "A once-in-a-blue-moon performance doesn't make a marriage, Andrew. Most ninety-year-old wolves have more consistency than you."

A vein throbbed in his temple. He grabbed my wrists, pinning them to the desk. I was forced to arch back, my spine flexible from years of dance, my hair spilling across the documents. Our chests pressed together, his sturdy torso crushing my heaving breath.

"I had no idea you were so desperate," he sneered. "Who are you planning to find to 'satisfy' you once you’re no longer Mrs. Wolfe?"

Infuriated, I tried to kick him, but he trapped my leg with his own. His limbs were like iron bars. In the struggle, my thigh brushed against something heavy and reactive beneath his suit pants. I froze.

We were discussing a divorce, and he was having a biological reaction.

"You jerk!" I hissed, my face scarlet.

Andrew let out a cold, mocking sound. "Isn't this what you've been scheming for since you climbed into my bed four years ago? You trapped me once. Now you’ll atone for it for a lifetime."

"I told you," I gasped. "I didn't know what happened that night!"

"The drink came from your hand, Lanka. Only your thumbprint was registered to my private quarters. Who else was there?"

I choked up. The explanation was a dead end. We had gone from being as close as soul-kin to being jailer and prisoner. I could still hear his shout from that morning four years ago: 'I didn't raise you to be a common climber in my sheets!'

"I regret it!" I shouted, tears finally spilling over. "Take it as my eternal regret!"

He scoffed, his grip tightening. "Just be a good mate and stay quiet. Look at yourself—everything you are was given to you by the Wolfe family. The estate, the gems, the limitless credits. You live in a palace built of my mercy. Do you honestly think you can survive a day without me?"

My throat felt like it was filled with jagged glass. I murmured something so low he couldn't hear it.

"What?" he frowned.

"I said... you never respected me." He saw me as a parasite, a stray leeching off his power. Even if I left with nothing, he thought I was worth less than the dirt under his boots.

He seemed to flinch at my fragile expression, a flicker of something like pain crossing his eyes. He opened his mouth to speak, but a knock at the door shattered the moment.

I shoved him away, my eyes red and defiant. "Then just watch me, Andrew. Watch me survive without a single scrap from your table!"