All Chapters of Alpha's Regret: Return of the Rejected Mate: Chapter 101 - Chapter 110

Penelope’s POVDominic continued coughing, each sound harsh and rough. His eyes had turned red from the choking, and water still dripped from his chin onto his expensive suit. I watched him struggle, and despite everything between us, I found his discomfort genuinely amusing.“Need a napkin?” I asked sweetly, making no move to actually help him.“I’m fine,” he wheezed, dabbing at his nose with his pocket square.“Oh, you’re definitely fine,” someone from the third row called out. “Just ask your girlfriend there.”“She’s not my girlfriend,” Dominic said hoarsely.“He’s not anything to me,” I added firmly.“Ouch,” the same voice replied. “That’s cold, lady.”“She’s always been cold,” Dominic muttered, just loud enough for me to hear.I whipped around to face him. “Excuse me?”“You heard me.”“Cold? I’m cold?” My voice rose slightly before I caught myself and lowered it again. “That’s rich, coming from you.”“At least I never pretended to be something I wasn’t.”“What’s that supposed to m

Penelope’s POVAs representatives began rising from their seats, the council chamber filled with the scraping of chairs and shuffling of papers. Conversations broke out across the tiered seating—some animated discussions about the historic vote, others complaints about disrupted schedules and unexpected outcomes.I gathered my documents, sliding each folder into my briefcase in the exact order I’d need them for tomorrow’s committee meetings. The leather case felt heavier than usual. We’d overturned centuries of tradition in a single afternoon.“Penelope.”I looked up to find Dominic standing beside my row, his gray suit jacket slung over one arm. His tie hung loose around his neck, and his dark hair was still disheveled from his earlier choking incident during the Chairman’s scolding.“The buffet area should be opening soon,” he said, adjusting his collar. “Mind if I join you for lunch?”I snapped my briefcase shut with more force than necessary and stood up. “That’s not necessary.”“I

Penelope’s POVBenjamin stared down at the mess of broken china and scattered food at his feet, his face draining of all color. Around us, other council members had stopped their conversations and were openly watching the unfolding drama.“Questioning about what?” Benjamin finally managed, his voice hoarse with shock.Chairman Morris gestured toward the lead investigator, a dumpy, stern-faced woman with graying hair pulled back in a severe bun. Her uniform bore the insignia of inter-pack law enforcement, and her expression was professional but implacable.“This is Detective Walsh from the Inter-Pack Financial Crimes Unit,” Morris announced. “She’ll explain the situation.”Detective Walsh stepped forward, consulting a tablet in her hands. “Alpha Benjamin, after an urgent financial audit conducted over the past seventy-two hours, we’ve discovered that over four million dollars in special funds have been secretly transferred to your private account during the past three months.”“Four mil

Edward’s POVI stood before the full-length mirror in my private chambers, lifting my wrists to my nose for the fourth time in ten minutes. The new scent masking formula Dr. Voss had developed under my death threat seemed to be working perfectly, but paranoia made me check repeatedly for any trace of my true Rogue nature.The silvery ointment had absorbed completely into my skin, leaving no visible residue while creating an invisible barrier against detection. Even my enhanced werewolf senses couldn’t penetrate the chemical mask. Penelope’s newly awakened abilities would find nothing suspicious.Satisfied with my preparations, I smoothed my hair and adjusted my expensive suit jacket. Time to return to the Benjamin pack mansion and play the role of grieving, concerned son.The drive took twenty minutes through winding forest roads. When I pulled into the circular driveway, Edward’s mother rushed out the front door before I’d even turned off the engine. Tears streaked down her face, and

Dominic’s POVI stood up from the plastic waiting room chair, the forgotten magazine sliding to the floor as I watched the Rainbow Claw instructor help Debbie toward the emergency treatment area. Blood had dried in dark streaks down the side of her small face, and she pressed a tissue against the cut on her forehead.“Ice Cream Uncle!” Debbie’s voice rang out across the busy waiting area as she spotted me.Her face lit up despite the obvious pain, and she tried to wave before wincing and returning her hand to the tissue. The instructor looked at me with immediate wariness, her grip tightening protectively on Debbie’s shoulder.“What happened?” I asked, crossing the waiting area quickly to reach them.The instructor—a sturdy woman in her thirties with short brown hair—kept herself positioned between me and Debbie. “She bumped her head during training,” she explained curtly. “Nothing serious, but head wounds bleed heavily.”“It was an accident,” Debbie added, looking up at the instructor