All Chapters of My Mate Chose The Bitch Who Hurt Our Baby : Chapter 121 - Chapter 130

OLIVIA’S POVI should have known better than to let him come so close.The moment Dominic’s lips crashed against mine, I felt my entire focus shatter like glass. It was supposed to be an act—a desperate ploy to avoid being discovered by Evelyn and Alpha Dorian. But the mate bond didn’t understand logic or timing. It simply awakened and devoured. I could feel him harden, his body heat too close to mine and the meeting of our tongues once again did something to me.Even now, with the danger passed and the two conspirators gone into the night, I couldn’t steady my breath. The phantom of that kiss still clung to me, like a brand I couldn't wipe clean.I tried to step away. "We need to leave before someone else sees us."But Dominic’s hand wrapped around my wrist, gently yet firmly. “Wait.”I turned, fully expecting an apology, or at least a half-hearted excuse. But what I got was him—standing far too close, eyes stormy, breathing shallow.“I need you,” he murmured. “I didn’t mean to pull

OLIVIA’S POVI walked in just as the sky began to turn a soft lavender, the first golden rays of morning brushing the tops of trees like a whisper. The front door creaked softly behind me, and for a brief, breathless moment, I stood still—half-hoping, half-dreading that someone would hear me.Thankfully, the house was quiet.James hadn’t noticed. I could hear the faint sound of his snores coming from the guest room. He must’ve fallen asleep after his call.But someone else had noticed.I froze in the hallway when I saw her—my mother—leaning against the kitchen doorway, arms crossed over her chest and a steaming cup of tea in her hand. She didn’t say a word. Her eyes just swept over me, from my tousled hair to the faint marks on my neck and the shirt I’d obviously thrown on in a rush.“Morning,” I whispered, guilt already clawing at my throat.She raised a brow and took a sip

OLIVIA’S POVThe early evening light bled gold across my room, and for once, the stillness inside didn’t feel suffocating. It felt... sacred. Like something was about to shift.I stood in front of the open wardrobe, lips pursed, fingers tracing the fabrics one by one. Silks, velvets, lace—all draped over hangers like forgotten memories. But none of them seemed right. Not yet.Tonight was the banquet. The start of something new. A public step back into the life I once belonged to… or at least, a test to see if I could reclaim it.I had told Derek yes. I would go with him. And I would smile, and laugh, and maybe even dance. But deep down, I knew… this wasn’t about Derek.This was about me.For once, I wanted to look beautiful—not for a man, not for a title, not even for the pack—but because I deserved to feel like I mattered. That I could still glow even after everything I’d been through.

OLIVIA’S POVI hated this.Not the banquet. Not the dress I spent hours choosing, not the compliments or the music or even Derek’s sweet but slightly smug smile every time he caught me stealing a glance.No.I hated that I had to see him.I hated that he came with her.I don’t know why I’d expected anything different—maybe some part of me still foolishly hoped he’d arrive alone, like me. That the nights we spent tangled in each other’s arms meant something. That maybe, just maybe, he would show up and claim me again—not with words, but with the absence of her.But Dominic walked in with Evelyn draped on his arm, shining like a second sun, her hair gleaming in waves and her gown tight and silver, as if to scream at the world that she was his.And I felt like the stupidest woman in the entire room.I had barely danced two songs with Derek before I sensed him behind me—his scent, that mix of pine and storm that made my stomach twist. I turned to see Dominic approaching, eyes locked on mi

THIRD PERSON’S POVDominic stood frozen on the dance floor, his eyes locked on the retreating figure of Olivia as her gown swept behind her like a wave of cold finality. The applause still echoed around him, but it no longer sounded like praise—it sounded like mockery. Applause for the wrong reasons. Applause for something he had ruined.His heart pounded violently in his chest, not from the dance, but from the weight of realization and rejection. That bracelet—that damn bracelet. His hands shook slightly, still tingling from the touch of her skin, and his mind reeled with images from the past: fire, metal, and a pair of hands dragging him from the wreckage.Dominic had often wondered about the night he was pulled from the wreckage, teetering between life and death. In the weeks that followed, as he healed, the story told to him had always been the same—Evelyn was the one who had saved him. She had claimed it softly, almost modestly, never pushing the narrative too hard but allowing i