My car rolled to a halt in front of C.C TECH CORP, the mighty glass tower that screamed of power, money, and intimidation. One of the biggest tech companies in the entire world. And it belonged to him—the man I had signed my soul away to three years ago.
The chauffeur stepped out to open the door, but I didn't move immediately. My perfectly manicured fingers clutched the silver purse Benjamin had once tossed at me as if it were a box of cereal, saying, "Buy yourself something." That's what I had become in this marriage—something that could be bought. But hell, if I was going to lose all this luxury to that Ophelia, the so-called goddess of perfection, I would at least go down swinging.
I inhaled deeply, squared my shoulders, and finally stepped out, heels clicking against the polished marble driveway. Heads turned. They always did. Not because I was me, but because I carried the cursed title: Lycan Queen.
"Good morning, Your Majesty," the receptionist greeted, her tone dripping with rehearsed respect.
I flashed a smile that could have made a wolf rethink biting me. "Is my husband in?"
"Yes, My Queen. He's in his office."
I didn't thank her. Why should I? If I was going to fall, at least let me enjoy my throne one last time before Ophelia snatched it away like a kid snatches candy.
The elevator ride to the top floor felt like being carried into a lion's den. There were only two offices up here—Benjamin's, and his assistant's. The entire floor reeked of his dominance, his cologne faintly seeping through the walls, his shadow hanging over every inch. My stomach twisted, but not out of love. Out of fear. Out of desperation.
Just as I reached his door, I froze. Voices. Male voices. I knew them immediately.
Alpha Hayden Christensen. Alpha of Blood Caves. Loud, bold, and annoyingly opinionated.
Alpha Hade Sole. Alpha of Starlight Pack. Quieter but calculating, the type that could stab you in the back and make you thank him for it.
Alpha Ryder Water. Alpha of Blood Moon Pack. Mischievous, sharp-tongued, and often the only one who dared to tease Benjamin.
The trio. His friends. His inner circle. The men who had seen me walk into Benjamin's life with nothing but borrowed dignity and orphan's desperation.
I pressed myself against the wall, every nerve in my body screaming that eavesdropping was beneath a Queen. But right now, dignity could die. Survival came first.
Hayden's deep voice pierced through the door. "So, Ben… what will happen to her if Ophelia decides she wants you back?"
Her. Oh Goddess. They were talking about me.
My ice-cold heart thumped painfully.
Benjamin's voice followed, casual, detached, the same way one might talk about replacing a car part. "I can't give Ophelia the satisfaction of thinking she can have me back after she broke my heart."
I blinked. Once. Twice. Did my ears deceive me? Satisfaction? Broken heart? Was he seriously pretending he was the victim?
Before I could process, Hade chimed in. "Yes. Because back in university, when no one wanted to live with you because of your temper and reputation, it was Myra who stepped in. She carried you through the finals."
For the first time, I wanted to kiss Hade Sole for speaking the truth. My throat tightened. Maybe Benjamin would remember. Maybe he would—
Then Ryder's mocking laugh shattered me. "True. But let's not lie to ourselves. Benjamin only agreed to marry Myra because she looks seventy percent like Ophelia."
My blood ran cold. My heart didn't just sink—it plummeted to hell itself.
Seventy percent. A counterfeit. A cheap imitation of the real thing. That's what I was.
The walls tilted. My vision blurred. Suddenly, all the little things started making sense. Ciara's silence. Benjamin's lack of interest in touching me. The way he had always looked through me, as if searching for something that wasn't there.
Ophelia. Always Ophelia.
I wanted to scream. To storm in there and throw Ryder's smug face against the wall. But my pride, fragile as it was, glued my feet to the ground.
Then Ryder's voice again, sly and sharp. "So tell me, Ben. Will you take her—the Luna—your wife—to Ophelia's welcome banquet at the Evans estate?"
Silence. I held my breath. If he said no, I was done. Dead. My title, my wealth, my entire fake throne would vanish like smoke.
Finally, Benjamin spoke. Calm, measured, cruel. "On paper, she is still my wife. She is still the Luna of the Packs. So yes, I will take her."
I staggered back. Relief flooded me so hard I almost burst out laughing.
He wasn't throwing me away. Not yet.
And that was enough for me to glue the pieces of my already shattered heart together with invisible tape. Enough to smile. Enough to fake it, like I had been doing for three years.
I adjusted my dress, lifted my chin, and finally knocked softly on the door, my knuckles trembling.
"Come in," Benjamin's deep voice commanded.
I pushed the door open with a soft smile plastered on my lips. Inside, the four men turned to me. Three Alphas and a King. A deadly audience.
"Good morning, Your Majesty," Ryder smirked, his eyes sparkling with mockery.
"Good morning, Alphas," I replied, my voice sweet as honey but my heart thundering like a war drum.
My gaze landed on Benjamin. He was sitting behind his massive mahogany desk, broad shoulders tense, his suit jacket abandoned, his tie slightly loose. His sharp jawline looked like it could cut glass, his stormy gray eyes unreadable as always. He was beauty carved from cruelty. My husband. My nightmare. My ATM.
I forced my lips into a delicate curve, even though my insides were a battlefield. "Ben, darling," I said softly, walking closer. "I need your card. I'm going shopping with my friends today."
The room went silent for a beat too long. Hayden raised an eyebrow. Hade's lips twitched. Ryder outright grinned, enjoying the show.
Benjamin's eyes locked with mine. Cold. Calculating. But I refused to look away. Not when every second in his office felt like standing on trial before a merciless judge.
Finally, he reached into his drawer, pulled out a sleek black platinum card, and handed it to me without a word.
I took it with a graceful nod, hiding the trembling of my fingers. "Thank you, my King."
Then, turning to the others, I offered the sweetest, most queenly smile I could muster. "Gentlemen, enjoy your meeting."
And with that, I walked out of the office, my heels clicking against the polished floor like war drums.
The moment the door shut behind me, my smile cracked, my chest caved, and my hand clutched the platinum card like it was the last weapon in my arsenal.
If I was going down, I was going down rich.