All Chapters of Rise Of The Betrayed Omega : Chapter 161 - Chapter 170

**Sabrina's POV** (Meanwhile in Black River pack...) I stand in my bathroom, staring at the two bottles of medicine I got earlier from the pack doctor on the marble counter like they're venomous snakes. They might as well be, but they're the solution to my problem. Or at least, that's what I keep telling myself. "This is for me," I whisper to my reflection. "For my future." The woman staring back at me looks determined, and desperate. Her hands shake as she reaches for the bottles. I'm not a bad person. I'm not. I'm just doing what I have to do to survive. Cole hasn't touched me in over twenty-four hours, his mind is clearly somewhere else. If I don't act now, I'll lose him completely. And losing Cole means losing everything: my position, my future, my chance at being a mother to the next Alpha heir. I can't let that happen. I won't. My fingers close around the bottles, and I slip them into my pocket before I can second-guess myself. --- By the time Co

**Stella's POV** Morning comes too soon. I barely slept. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Shawn's face—the hurt carved into his features, the desperation bleeding through his carefully controlled voice, the secrets he guards like they're the only things keeping him alive. And my father's name, suspended between us like a ghost I thought I'd buried years ago. When my alarm finally goes off at six-thirty, I've been awake for over an hour, staring at my ceiling and trying to make sense of everything. I don't want to move. Don't want to face the day or the questions or the confusing tangle of emotions Shawn has left me with. But lying here won't change anything, so I force myself up to take a shower. The shower helps a little. The hot water loosens some of the tension in my shoulders, and washes away the physical evidence of my sleepless night even if it can't touch what's underneath.... When I finally step out, I take my time getting dressed. Soft and comfortable dark blue

**Stella's POV** I turn to find Dimitri approaching, dressed in an expensive suit that screams money. His expression is earnest, almost pleading. My stomach sinks. "Dimitri. What are you doing here?" "I needed to see you." He steps closer, and I instinctively step back. "I've been trying to call, but you blocked my number." "For good reason." "Please, just hear me out—" "Dimitri, I'm at work. This isn't appropriate." I glance around, noting the early morning foot traffic. Several rogues are watching us with interest. "I know, I know. But you wouldn't answer my calls, and I—" He runs a hand through his hair, looking genuinely distressed. "I can't stop thinking about how badly I messed up last night." "Then maybe you should have thought about that before you started interrogating me like I was a suspect in a crime." "I know. You're right. I was completely out of line." He moves closer again, and I hold my ground this time, refusing to be backed into a corner. "I let

**Stella's POV** The room is destroyed. Files are scattered everywhere. Boxes I'd carefully organized are overturned. Papers litter the floor like confetti. Hours of work is gone just like that. And there, taped to the wall in the center of the chaos, is a note written on plain white paper in block letters with black marker. [SLEEPING WITH THE BOSS WON'T BUY YOU RESPECT] Something inside me cracks. My vision blurs. My hands clench into fists, nails digging into my palms so hard they leave crescents in my skin. All day, I've held it together. Through Barbara's impossible tasks and fabricated complaints. Through the insults and whispers and stolen lunch. Through everything. But this—this deliberate destruction, and it's too much. They think I'm sleeping with someone for this job. They think I'm using my body to get ahead. The irony would be funny if it weren't so devastating. I was sleeping with Shawn, but that has nothing to do with this job. Nothing to do with my

**Stella's POV** "Doesn't matter." I wave away the question. "The point is, I need to be stronger. More capable. I can't keep being the victim." I pull out my phone and call the lobby desk. "Good evening, Miss Mathews. How can I help you?" "Does this building have a gym? And trainers?" "Yes, ma'am. We have a full fitness center on the second floor, and we offer personal training sessions. Actually, there's a group training session happening right now, if you're interested. It runs until 8 PM." I glance at the clock. 6:15 PM. "Thank you. I'll check it out." I end the call and turn to Riley. "Watch Noah for a bit? I'm going to the gym." "Stella, are you sure? You've had a really hard day. Maybe you should rest—" "I've rested enough." I head toward my bedroom to change. "I need to do this." Ten minutes later, I'm in workout clothes—purple leggings and a matching tank top, my hair pulled back in a ponytail. I take the elevator down to the second floor. The fitness