Bound To The Broken Alpha (Amy and Daniel) novel Chapter 64

**Chapter 64: You Are Different Now**

**AMY**

“That’s not my concern,” I replied, my voice steady, though a flicker of uncertainty danced in my chest.

He scrutinized my expression for a heartbeat longer, his brow furrowing slightly. “No, but it’s going to be his downfall if he keeps this up,” he warned, his tone laced with a hint of concern.

“I’m not stopping him,” I murmured, my resolve hardening. “If he wants to self-destruct, that’s on him. He can destroy himself if that’s what he truly desires.”

Brian’s lips curved into a faint smile, one that held a mixture of admiration and disbelief. “You really are different now,” he remarked, a hint of awe in his voice.

I felt a surge of pride mixed with a sense of liberation. “I just stopped caring about the wrong things,” I stated firmly. “And for the record, don’t ever bring up Mark again, Clara. I mean it. And don’t come here either. I’m a married woman, and this is my husband’s house.” With that, I brushed past him, stepping into the sanctuary of my home.

I didn’t glance back; I felt no need to. The weight of exhaustion hung heavy on my shoulders, and my mind was already racing ahead to the event I had to prepare for the following day. It was an unexpected affair, but as the Luna, there were certain obligations I could not afford to overlook, no matter how much I longed for a moment of peace.

The event itself was a whirlwind of activity. The venue buzzed with energy, filled with members of the pack, all dressed as if they were ready to compete in some unspoken contest of status. I felt a sense of calm wash over me. I had attended enough of these gatherings to know the drill—smile, greet, respond to the same predictable questions, and then move on.

This was precisely the kind of event where the air was thick with forced laughter and exaggerated conversation. I had shown up only because Mrs. Carter insisted it would be beneficial for our image, but deep down, all I wanted was to get through the night and collapse into my bed for a long, uninterrupted nap.

I located my designated table at the front without surprise and settled into my seat. Cole lingered nearby, his presence reassuring yet quiet. Across the room, I caught sight of Clara, mingling with a group of executives. The moment she spotted me, her face lit up with that signature fake smile—a cunning smile that never failed to send a shiver down my spine, signaling trouble was brewing.

The host kicked off the event with a series of thanks to the sponsors, discussing business growth with a practiced ease. Then, Clara’s name echoed through the room. She approached the microphone with an air of confidence, as if she had been waiting for this moment all week.

Her speech began smoothly, filled with the usual platitudes about commitment and vision. But then, as if sensing my presence, she shifted her gaze directly toward me.

“It’s funny,” she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm, “how some people rise so quickly when others toil for years without ever getting the same opportunity. I guess being lucky has its perks.”

A ripple of discomfort passed through the crowd, and I felt the weight of their gazes on me. Yet, I remained silent, knowing she wasn’t finished.

“Integrity matters,” she continued, her tone sharp. “But I suppose not everyone believes that anymore.”

That was my breaking point. I stood up, and before I could even request one, an organizer handed me a microphone, as if anticipating my need to speak. I locked eyes with Clara, my heart racing. “If you’re trying to talk about me, Clara, you can do it directly. No need for pretense,” I asserted, my voice unwavering.

She blinked, momentarily caught off guard. Perhaps she hadn’t expected me to confront her in front of everyone. “I wasn’t naming anyone,” she retorted quickly, her composure faltering.

“Good,” I replied, my voice steady. “Then let me say this generally: People who work hard don’t need to tear others down to feel relevant. The truth always finds a way to shine through, even when you try to shroud it with lies.”

A quiet murmur rippled through the audience, and I could see Clara’s jaw clench in frustration.

“You’re twisting my words,” she shot back, her voice rising.

“No,” I countered firmly. “I’m simply ensuring everyone hears them clearly.”

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