Approved for Her Rejected for Me novel Chapter 95

Chapter 4

Before Wesley and I formally dissolved our mate bond, I truly did lose control.

Imed them entangled together, printed stacks of flyers, stamped them with titles, dates, and locations, and mailed every single one to every member of the pack.

Banners exposing their affair filled the streets outside his office building, more appearing every day.

I reported Kayla for “behavior unbecoming of a she-wolf,” and the Werewolf Academy forum

exploded.

At her graduation ceremony, I hired someone to project our old videos, ones of the three of us back

when we were inseparable on a giant loop across the main screen.

Every precious memory I once held became ammunition I fired back at them.

But Wesley still shielded her with everything he had.

Kayla graduated smoothly from the top werewolf art academy in the country.

She was even preparing for her own exhibition.

Only when he saw I was ready to escalate again did he truly look at me-his voice cold, the way an Alpha reprimanded subordinates.

“Kayla’s dream is finally within reach. What happened between us is over. Stop trying to ruin her.”

My eyes burned with rage. “Ruin? I’m ready. On the day of the exhibition, plenty of people will be very interested.”

Wesley suddenly slammed a folder in front of me.

“Sign it.”

His voice cut through the room.

“If you don’t want your mother’s grave relocated, then stop.”

That grave’s purchase and registration, he had handled everything after my breakdown. One order from him and even my mother’s death wouldn’t be left in peace.

I hurled a cup of coffee into his face, then spent the entire night curled against my mother’s

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tombstone, crying myself to sleep.

The next day, I still went to the Pack Council. The result was worse than I expected. Wesley gave me only an old house that had belonged to his family.

“You reported Stormhowl Group for financial fraud,” he said. “Most assets are frozen. This is all I can give you. If Kayla hadn’t begged on your behalf, you wouldn’t even have this.”

I had never been a match for him.

Wesley was steady, disciplined, and knew exactly how to wield power. He was the kind of Alpha who didn’t need to raise his voice to force obedience.

And I… I was always the reckless one, charging straight in with burning blood, hurting myself even

more than my enemy.

So I quieted down as he demanded.

I sold the house, preparing to leave the city. But before I left, I still went to Kayla’s art exhibition.

The decision was impulsive.

A massive projection in the city center showed Kayla’s delicate face. The exhibition was titled “The Key to the Soul.”

A phrase she and I used to write in letters as young girls, a symbol of trust and purity.

With a self-punishing nostalgia, I walked into the gallery fully braced, like a rat sneaking in to glimpse someone else’s happiness.

Then I saw the painting. A canvas titled “The Key to the Soul.”

Two naked bodies. The man’s shoulder blade bore a small mole, I had kissed that spot countless times. The she-wolf’s hair spilled across the pillow, mussed from being pulled.

The bedsheets were light lavender. Magnolia blossoms bloomed outside the window, flowers I had chosen myself at the market.

It was my home. And it was where she first slept with Wesley.

So her “soul” was him. Her “key” was him. Everything in her world was him.

Disgust surged up from the pit of my stomach. I doubled over and vomited onto the gallery floor.

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It drew immediate attention. Kayla and Wesley, surrounded by admirers, turned toward me.

Kayla’s syrupy voice drifted over the crowd. “Miss, are you alright?”

I saw the heart-shaped brooch pinned to her chest, perfectly matching the key-shaped cufflink on Wesley’s sleeve.

My mind snapped. I seized the brooch and slashed the canvas. The tearing echoed across the hall.

People screamed. Guests scattered. Security ran over and pinned me to the ground.

The cold tile pressed against my cheek as I lifted my head and met Wesley’s eyes.

He held a trembling, sobbing Kayla in his arms. His gaze on me was the gaze one reserved for filth.

“Call the police,” he said quietly.

I laughed. The more people stared, the louder I laughed. Within minutes, they all stepped back like was a madshe-wolf.

Because the damage exceeded ten thousand dollars, I was sentenced to three years in prison and ordered to compensate the gallery for damages and emotional distress.

I attempted to end my life several times in prison, but each time they resuscitated me.

A year later, for good behavior, I was released early. I had nothing left. Yet somehow, I understood

more than ever.

When the car stopped at the restaurant, Kayla went to fix her makeup.

Wesley stood beside me, his voice steady. “I’m sorry.”

His eyes didn’t move from me.

“What happened back then was our fault. Next time, I’ll make sure Kayla keeps some distance.”

I lifted my head, startled.

The Wesley I knew would rather die than apologize. Now he was the first one to yield.

“I don’t need it,” I said quietly. “You’re married. I just thought of the past when I saw you two.”

A shadow crossed his eyes, something like sorrow. I didn’t understand it, and I didn’t want to.

Kayla returned with her carefree smile. “We used to love pooling our money for barbecue. Order

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