Chapter 2

Emily 

For a long moment, I just stared at the paper in my hands. My fingers trembled so badly I could barely hold it still enough to read.

Divorce Agreement.

Between Alpha Julian Whitford and Emily Hale-Whitford.

A laugh escaped my lips. “No…” I whispered, shaking my head. “This has to be some kind of mistake.”

When I reached his door, I hesitated for just a second before pushing it open. The room was empty, but light spilled from the adjoining office.

I was about to call out his name when I froze in the doorway the moment I heard his mother's voice.

“Julian, you’re thirty-two,” Matilda’s tone carried that sharp, accusing edge. “Five years married and only one stupid miss carriage to show for it. Meeting your wife once a year? How’s she supposed to get pregnant like that? If it’s really not working, then maybe we could find a breeder that would give us what we want. Any boy with Logan blood will do.”

My heart twisted at her words, but I stayed hidden, my hand clutching the doorframe.

Julian’s voice followed, steady but cold. “I already made an agreement for that.”

I felt like the ground should open and swallow me whole. But his next words crushed it completely.

“Remember how her carelessness caused her that miscarriage?”

I felt the air leave my lungs.

Matilda’s face darkened, her voice dripping with disgust. “And who brought that curse into our home? The Logans never had such shame before. Other wives pop out babies without a fuss, but our precious Emily?” she spat my name like poison—“one pregnancy and her cursed womb couldn't keep it, and we become gossip for days. Humiliating!”

Julian didn’t even flinch at her words. He didn’t defend me. He didn’t even look angry at her cruelty. He just said, flatly, “I can't wait to kick her out today and get all of this over and done with."

My heart turned to ice. My chest felt hollow, as if something inside me had cracked beyond repair.

So that was it. That was what I was to him. 

I pressed a trembling hand against my lips, but the tears wouldn’t come.

He had forgotten everything, how close I came to death when I had my first miscarriage, how I bled until the world blurred and doctors fought to bring me back. He’d forgotten the trembling, the fear, the sleepless nights.

And yet, here he was, talking about me like I was a tool. Like my pain was a memory that didn’t matter.

The voices inside the room began to fade into a dull hum. I stared blankly at the floor, the faintest of smiles curling on my lips.

I had given the Logans everything; my youth, my health, my heart and in return, I became a ghost in my own marriage.

Clutching the pregnancy report in my hand, I realized maybe it was time to stop pretending.

Today was supposed to be our “scheduled conception day.” That cold phrase still made me sick. They’d turned even intimacy into a ritual. 

Maybe it was time to end it all.

If no one cared whether I lived or died, maybe I should at least care enough to stop dying for them.

A bitter laugh escaped me again. I felt like I was standing outside my own body, watching myself break.

My gaze lifted and a saw Ava’s portrait.

It hung above his bed so perfectly. Her perfect face, immortalized in that painted smile. Five years, and he had never taken it down.

I walked closer, my vision blurry with tears.

“How many times did you think of her, Julian?” I whispered, staring into Ava’s painted eyes. “How many times did you touch me, but see her? How many times did you fuck me and wish it was her?”

I laughed again. My voice trembled as the memories came flooding back.

He had only made love to me four miserable times. And the last one he had been drunk. I still remembered the way he had whispered her name, while his hands were on my skin. How he moan her name louder as he fucked the hell out of me.

Right beneath this portrait.

Something inside me snapped.

Before I knew it, I was reaching for the frame, my hands shaking violently as I tore it from the wall. Glass shattered against the floor, the sound splitting the silence like a scream.

“Why wouldn't you just die and leave us alone?!” I cried out, tears streaming down my cheeks. “You've always wanted everything that I had! Even in your death you still want everything that I have!”

The door slammed open. Julian rushed in immediately and the moment he saw the portrait on the floor his face twisted in rage.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” he roared, storming toward me. He grabbed my arm and yanked me away from the broken frame.

Tears streamed down my face. “Since you don't want to let go her, maybe you should dig out her corpse and lay beside it every night!”

He turned to me then, his eyes cold, gray, and lifeless. “Maybe I should, because will be better than been with a woman like you,” he said with so much hatred in his voice. “You could be the last woman on this earth, and I still wouldn’t choose you.”

He reached into his pocket, pulled out his phone, and threw something at my feet. A photograph.

My breath caught as I bent down to pick it up. It was the same picture of me and a man that I saw earlier.

“You disgust me,” Julian spat. “Was this your plan all along? To whore yourself out for attention?”

My lips trembled. Something inside me broke completely. I felt hot tears sting my eyes as my hand moved before I could stop it. The sound of the slap was so loud.

He froze, his cheek red from the impact.

“Go to hell, Julian,” I whispered hoarsely. “You and your family can burn for all I care.”

His mother gasped from the doorway.

I straightened my shoulders, even as my vision blurred with tears. “You’re right,” I said bitterly, my voice shaking. “I did sleep with that man. And you know what? It was beautiful. Every filthy, dirty second of it. He put me in positions you could only dream of, and he fucked me until I could stop moaning his name out loud, begging him to go harder...”

Before I could blink, his stepmother’s palm landed across my face so hard my head snapped sideways.

“You ungrateful witch!” she shrieked.

I stumbled but caught myself. I stormed across the room, snatching the divorce papers from the table.

“This what you want?” I shouted, waving them in his face. “You want me gone so bad?”

He said nothing just stared at me with those cold eyes.

“Fine.”

I grabbed the pen from his desk, my hands trembling, and signed my name at the bottom. Then I shoved the papers into his chest. “There. Congratulations, Alpha Whitford. You’re finally free.”

“I curse the very day I fell in love with you,” I spat and reached into my bag and pulled out the journal and I threw it to the floor between us.

“I pray this haunts you for the rest of your miserable life,” I whispered.

Without another word I storm out of the room. I didn’t stop until I reached my car. My body shook as I gripped the steering wheel, gasping for air. 

I picked up my phone with trembling fingers and dialed the number I’d memorized months ago.

“It’s time,” I said flatly. “Go through with the plan.”

The voice on the other end was calm. “Understood. We’ll take care of everything.”

The plan was simple.

A car that was identical to mine  would crash off the cliffs at Haven Hill, burn beyond recognition, and carry enough of my DNA to convince everyone that I had died. It was something I had planned long ago when I first found out I made a mistake marrying Julian, but I couldn't carry on with it, because somehow I was waiting for him to change.

I hung up and pressed harder on the accelerator, my tears blurring the road ahead, when suddenly I saw a truck coming towards me with high speed.

It came out of nowhere, swerving into my lane, I slammed on the brakes but nothing happened.

My heart stopped.

The brakes weren’t working.

Panic surged through me as the truck came closer, the sound of its horn deafening. “Fuck!” I screamed, twisting the wheel, but it was too late.

The impact was explosive and my world went black.

When I came to, everything hurt. My head pounded, my vision swam. I tasted blood.

I heard someone's approaching me, and then I forced my eyes open and froze.

“I just came to make sure you didn’t survive this,” Julian's mother whispered, crouching beside me. Her eyes gleamed, and as she raised her hand, and her claws began to grow longer.

“Say hello to the devil for me,” she said softly.

Pain shot through my chest as her claws plunged into me. I gasped, choking on my own blood.