Chapter 4

I set Joseph’s phone back on the nightstand, my grip tightening around my own like a lifeline. My wolf stirred restlessly inside me, her instincts sharper than ever. The past five years confined to a wheelchair had kept her nature in check. But now? She paced back and forth, roaring, demanding to be heard.

I opened my contacts and dialed.

"Hello, I'd like to book a plane ticket. Departure in five days."

Five days. Enough time to bury five years of lies.

That night, as I lay in bed staring at the ceiling, my wolf refused to let me rest.

*"You should make those bastards pay,"* she grumbled.

“Not now,” I muttered under my breath. Her claws scraped against the inside of my consciousness, but she didn’t push further.

The next day at lunch, my phone buzzed against the table, interrupting the strained silence. Before I could grab it, Joseph’s gaze snapped to the screen, his expression darkening.

"Fiona, why are you applying to cancel your bank card?" His voice was light, but there was a warning.

I locked the screen with a flick of my thumb and met his gaze without flinching. "It’s expiring. I scheduled a renewal."

His lips thinned. like he had more to say, but before he could, his phone rang.

"Something came up at work," he said, his tone clipped. "I have to handle it. I won’t be able to have lunch with you."

I nodded, watching as he and my parents left. My wolf let out a soft growl. *Scumbag.*

And just like that, I was alone again.

I rolled my wheelchair, preparing to leave the dining hall, but before I could go, a notification popped up on the screen— a friend request.

Fiona, you heard everything at the hospital yesterday, didn’t you?

Yolanda.

My wolf bristled at the name, her growl echoing through me. I stared at the message before opening the chat.

**Yolanda:**

*Your husband and I have a son.*

*Even your biological parents—when they found out your injuries made you infertile, they immediately chose me instead. They told Joseph to be with me, to have a child with me.*

*You think you’re legally married? You’re nothing but a joke.*

*They even helped me open a training ground. The grand opening is in five days. I guess they didn’t bother telling you that either, did they?*

*I regret not getting rid of you sooner. Then everything would’ve been mine from the start.*

Each word was a fresh wound, slicing through me like a silver blade. So this was why my parents had cast me aside.

This was why Joseph had stayed by her side so willingly.

my hands trembling as I took screenshots of the messages. My heart thundered as I reached for the nightstand, grabbing my marriage certificate .

Beneath it, something else caught my eye.

His letter of forgiveness.

At the lawyer’s office, I sat stiffly as he flipped through the documents, his frown deepening.

"Chat records won’t hold up as solid evidence," he said, setting the papers down. "However, a letter of forgiveness from family members does carry legal weight."

"Can you draft the divorce papers?" I asked.

He froze, his eyes fixed on the marriage certificate.

"This marriage certificate is fake."

The words hit me like a blow. My wolf let out a furious howl. *They played you. Played us.*

The ground disappeared beneath me.

Fake.

So Yolanda hadn’t lied.

I had been nothing but a fool. A puppet in their cruel game.

A hollow laugh bubbled up inside me. Was there a single thing in my life that wasn’t a lie?

Just as despair threatened to consume me, the lawyer’s expression shifted.

"However," he said, his eyes sharpening, "given the circumstances, Joseph’s letter of forgiveness no longer holds legal weight. This is fraud. Concealment."

Something flickered inside me.

Hope.

Small. Fragile. But there.

I swallowed back the lump in my throat. "Can we sue?"

His expression hardened. "Yes."

I clutched the papers like a lifeline. "Then help me file a lawsuit."

Leaving the law firm, I hailed a taxi and headed straight to another hospital, my hands clenched in my lap.

I needed the truth.

When the doctor finally reviewed my case, his words turned my world upside down.

"Your injuries aren’t as permanent as you were told."

I blinked. "What?"

“The car accident caused blockages in your fallopian tubes, making conception difficult. But with surgery, your fertility can be restored.”

My wolf’s joy surged, breaking through my disbelief.

“And your leg… The fracture hasn’t worsened in five years. With proper surgery and therapy, you’ll be walking again soon.”

Tears streamed down my face. My wolf let out a triumphant howl. *They failed to break us.*

The doctor handed me a tissue, oblivious to the storm inside me. “It’s clear someone’s been taking care of you. If your leg had been truly neglected—”

“No one took care of me,” I interrupted, my voice trembling. “They wanted me to stay broken.”

He blinked, startled by my words, but I didn’t stay to explain.

Outside the hospital, my phone buzzed again.

Another message from Yolanda. A photo.

She was cradling her son in Joseph’s arms, their faces glowing with contentment. My parents sat beside them, completing the picture of a perfect family.

Behind them, displayed on the wall, was a massive oil painting. A family portrait.

At the bottom, signed in bold strokes: Grayson McKinney.