Ashley’s POV

Silvia faked her health issues to play the victim.

And the idiotic, arrogant Alpha—my ex-husband—willingly became her sharpest weapon, discarding me without hesitation.

My stomach churned violently, but this time, it wasn’t because of pregnancy. No, it was pure, uncontrollable disgust. Brian, the Alpha of the Blackwood Pack, could have uncovered the truth in countless ways if he cared to.

But he didn’t. He didn’t even doubt her for a second. He swallowed her lies whole because he wanted to believe them. Because those lies handed him the perfect excuse to dump me and rekindle his new flame.

I was deceived. My husband, my marriage, the three years of effort and pain I endured—everything was built on a ridiculous lie. That woman, with her fake tears and fragile act, not only stole my husband but also turned me into the laughingstock of the entire pack.

I bent down, picking up the papers one by one. I didn’t rip them apart. Instead, I carefully placed them back into the brown envelope.

Why expose her?

No.

I’m not going to do it. Brian deserves this. The best punishment for him is to let him stay deep in those lies, give everything for her, and then finally discover the truth. He should understand what it feels like to be betrayed by someone you thought you loved.

I locked the file folder in the safe, taking a deep breath to force myself to calm down. Walking over to my desk, I pressed the intercom button.

“Leo, come in. We need to go over the Moonlight Salon plans.”

A few seconds later, my assistant Leo knocked and stepped in. Full of energy and highly capable, he handed me a document. “Ms. Rebecca,” he said, placing it in front of me, “here’s the initial layout and guest list.”

I took the folder, but my mind was elsewhere. Then, suddenly, Leo’s phone rang, its sharp tone cutting through the silence. He glanced at the caller ID, hesitation flashing across his face.

“Ma’am, it’s Alpha Brian.”

My heart clenched, tightening painfully in my chest.

“Answer it,” I said, my tone calm and devoid of any emotion.

Leo hit the speaker button. “Good evening, Alpha Brian,” he greeted politely.

“I need your assistance,” Brian’s deep, commanding voice came through the line with that undeniable air of authority. “I want one of my wife’s paintings to be showcased at the upcoming Moonlight Salon.”

My wife.

For just a second, my breath caught in my throat.

He still remembers that I love painting? That passion he once dismissed as a “pointless hobby,” the one I buried deep in my heart—he remembers? A faint, almost laughable flicker of warmth stirred in my chest for half a second.

“She’s always loved painting,” Brian’s voice continued, carrying an uncharacteristic trace of gentleness. “Her work is incredibly talented.”

But the next moment, that flicker was extinguished completely, doused by a bucket of ice-cold water.

Because I heard Silvia’s frail yet overdone voice: “Oh, Brian, don’t say that, you’re making me blush…”

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