“You did,” I said simply.
“No,” she whimpered, blinking like she was trying to unsee the room. “No, someone drugged me. You don’t understand. Someone must’ve…”
But no one was bui buying it.
Not after the photos.
Not after the texts.
Not after the fact that her big bomb-her ‘proof-had disappeared like it never existed.
She finally looked at me again. And in that moment, I saw something unravel inside her. It wasn’t rage. Not even shame.
It was a cold realization.
She realized that not only had I planned this, but I’d already erased the battlefield before she even knew there was
She realized she’d brought a knife to a gunfight-and the blade was made of paper.
And me?
I just looked back at her with that same calmn smile she had given me eleven years ago, the kind that said: You did this to yourself. I just made sure everyone saw it.
Quiet, broken sobs broke out of her, the kind you try heard. y to muttle because even you your shame is too ashamed to be
“Take her,” Dad said, putting a seal on her fate.
And finally, her karma came, not by nature, but by a force known as Kester Hamilton. And I’ve put everything in place to make sure she doesn’t leave rehab in a hurry.
KESTER.
“What’s going on, Kes?” June’s heels clicked on the marble floor as she walked toward the mini bar, her reflection glinting off the glass cabinetry as she poured herself into the room like she had truly become a part of the home.
I didn’t even turn to face her. I didn’t look up. My fingers curled around the crystal glass of whiskey, my eyes fixed on the ice slowly melting inside it with lethal quietness.
I was thinking of when would be the best time to go and get any mate and take her back home. When would the best time be to shatter the illusion of freedom she thought she had? This afternoon? Or tonight?
June was just one final piece on the board. One final checkmark before I cleaned the house.
Karina – check
Wescor and Belinzo-check.
Kex and the fake Elvris – double-check.
Ongoing deal with the real Elvris – check.
Alpha Mellors’ irrevocable contract – check.
June – about to be checkmated.
“I just saw the news about Karina. This is… Who would have ever thought?” She dropped her overpriced bag on the couch like it was beneath her and sauntered over to me, snatching the whiskey from my hand without so much as a blink. She sipped from it, her gloss-stained lips brushing the rim where mine had just been.
I said nothing
“Honey? Are you alright?” she asked, crouching slightly, palms cupping my face. Her tone softened, all sugary sweetness and concern. “I know you must be a little shaken from everything that’s happened with Karina. But look on the bright side…” Her smile curved up. “You have no other contender for the Alpha position.”
As if I didn’t know that? As if it wasn’t obvious that I had no contender for my position anymore?
I wrapped my fingers around her wrists and peeled her hands from my face.
“Sit down, June. I have something to tell you.” I nodded toward the seat opposite me, and she obeyed without hesitation, like a well-trained pet. She crossed her legs slowly, flashing skin she probably thought would distract me.
Why did she wear red lipstick so religiously? Did she think it made her look powerful? Sexy?
Why the hell is she always in those little dresses that barely covered anything? She thought it turned me on? Pathetic.
“What is it, baby?” She asked, concern written all over her face.
Good
She should be concerned. Because once I said what I needed to say, she would no longer be a variable. She’d be a resolved equation.
And I was tired of equations.
I let the silence stretch a little long just to watch the way her fingers fidgeted against the hem of her dress. That little smile she wore? It was beginning to falter.
Good… I leaned back, the leather of the armchair sighing beneath me as I lifted my whiskey once more and took a slow sip. Then, I spoke.
“I’m calling it off.”
June blinked, slowly. Like she hadn’t heard me. Like maybe her ears were broken. Like maybe I was joking.
“This whole wedding,” I tinued, setting the glass down with a soft clink. “The charade. The staged affection. The engagement. All of it-done.”
She didn’t flinch. She just sat there like a statue carved in warpaint and arrogance, eyes pinned on me.
And then, in a tone far too calm, she said, “You won’t dare call off the engagement.”
I chuckled, but it held no humor. No warmth. Just ice sliding down a blade.
“I have a meeting with the press in an hour,” I said, standing slowly. “That’s where I’ll be announcing the annulment.”
Her eyes followed me. And then she smiled.
Why the fuck is she smiling?
She stood and sauntered to where she had dumped her bag like she’d just won a game I hadn’t realized I was playing.
She opened the bag. Slipped her hand inside. Pulled out her phone.
I watched quietly.
She scrolled with a fluid thumb, brows raised in mock curiosity as if she were checking her calendar for brunch with a friend.
Then she stopped scrolling. Her smile widened, all crimson gloss and teeth.
She turned. Walked to me. Calm. Collected. Confident in a way that reeked of something.
And then she dropped the phone on the table in front of me and an audio began to play.
What the fuck?
It was my voice.
“June? There is something else I want you to do for me.”
I didn’t breathe. Didn’t move. Just stared at the phone like it had grown teeth.
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