Chapter 3.

Rowan didn't reach for the envelope immediately.

Instead, he looked at me.

Not the envelope.

Not the photographs peeking through the opening.

Me.

"You've been carrying this around all day?"

I nodded.

"And you've already looked through everything?"

"More times than I care to admit."

He rested his palms on the edge of his desk.

"Then tell me why I shouldn't assume this is fabricated."

The question stung.

Not because it was cruel.

But because I knew I'd ask myself the same thing.

"I would."

His brows lifted.

"If our positions were reversed, I'd think the same."

For the first time since I'd arrived, I saw genuine approval flicker across his face.

"You expected me to question you."

"I expected you to throw me out."

"I considered it."

"I know."

His lips twitched. "I'm still considering it."

"I know."

"You seem to know a great deal."

"I had a long drive to think."

That earned the ghost of a smile.

Then it disappeared.

He finally picked up the envelope.

The room fell silent except for the rain striking the windows.

One photograph slid onto the desk.

A hotel lobby.

Lucien.

Vivian.

His fiancee.

The timestamp showed on the bottom corner.

Three weeks ago.

Rowan studied it for several seconds before placing it aside.

He picked up another.

Then another.

Neither of us spoke.

His face remained unreadable, but I noticed the subtle changes.

His jaw tightened.

His fingers slowed.

By the fourth photograph, he stopped turning the pages.

"They were careful."

"They thought they were."

"You hired someone."

"No."

That finally drew his attention away from the photographs.

"I followed them."

His sighs.

"Alone?"

"I needed the truth."

"You needed backup, that was dangerous."

"I didn't have anyone I could trust."

The words slipped out before I could stop them.

Neither of us acknowledged them.

He looked back at the photographs.

"They checked into the same hotel a lot."

"Oh I heard they're regulars."

"You counted?."

"That much? I stopped counting."

Silence stretched between us.

"I almost convinced myself it wasn't what it looked like."

I laughed quietly.

A broken sound.

"I spent an hour staring at the first picture, wondering if maybe they were discussing our wedding."

"Thought they were planning a surprise."

"My best friend... and my fiance."

My throat tightened.

"Isn't that pathetic?"

"No."

Rowan's answer came without hesitation.

"It makes you human."

I looked away.

No one had called me that before.

Naive.

Too trusting.

Too forgiving.

Those were the words I'd heard my whole life.

He continued reading.

Printed emails.

Bank statements.

Reservation confirmations.

Each page painted the same picture.

An affair.

Months long.

Carefully hidden.

Until it wasn't.

When he reached the bottom of the stack, he looked up.

"This proves infidelity."

I straightened.

"It does."

"It doesn't explain the proposal."

"I know."

"It doesn't explain why you came to me."

"I know."

"So explain it then."

My fingers curled around the coffee mug.

It had long since gone cold.

"I can't."

"You won't."

"I'm done here. Thank you for bringing this to my attention. I'll have someone escort-"

"There are things I need to verify first."

His eyes narrowed.

"You came asking me to marry you without trusting me."

"I came asking if you'd consider it."

"That's not an answer. You must take me for a joke."

"Seems we've both been made a laughing stock don't you think?"

For a moment, neither of us spoke.

Then Rowan stood.

He walked toward the windows again, slipping one hand into the pocket of his trousers.

The city stretched beyond the glass, alive with headlights and rain.

"When my assistant informed me that Cora Vale requested a private meeting, I expected nothing of this sort."

I blinked.

"I mean, who would?"

"You're the future face of Silver Crescent."

"I was."

"You are."

He turned to face me.

"Until something changes publicly, perception matters... especially in this line of business."

I almost laughed.

"You're talking like a businessman."

"I am one."

"And an Alpha."

"The two jobs overlap more often than people realize."

I believed him.

Completely.

He folded his arms.

"Here's what I don't understand."

"I'm listening."

"If your fiance has been unfaithful, why not expose him?"

"I will."

"Then pray tell why am I involved?"

Because this wasn't about cheating.

Because the affair wasn't the worst thing I'd heard. It should've been, but it wasn't.

Because the words that haunted me had nothing to do with hotel rooms.

They were spoken in a quiet office...

By the man who'd promised to spend forever with me.

I closed my eyes.

Just for a second.

I could still hear his voice.

"She'll never see it coming."

"Cora Vale."

I opened my eyes.

Rowan's voice had softened.

Not with pity.

With patience.

"I can't help you if you only tell me half the story."

A lump rose in my throat.

For days, I'd replayed that conversation in my head.

Every sentence.

Every laugh.

Every lie.

I hadn't cried.

Not once.

If I started now...

I wasn't sure I'd stop.

I reached into my bag one last time.

This time, I didn't remove another photograph.

I removed a slim black voice recorder.

Rowan frowned.

"You recorded something."

I placed it carefully on the desk between us.

My fingers lingered on it for a heartbeat.

Then I let go.

"The affair isn't why I'm here."

His gaze shifted from the recorder to me.

"Then what is?"

I met his eyes.

"They're planning to accuse me of treason."

The room went still.

"They're going to strip me of everything."

I swallowed hard.

"And when they're done..."

My voice cracked for the first time.

"...they're going to banish me."

Rowan didn't speak.

He simply stared at the recorder.

Then, very slowly...

He grabbed it.