Ex-Mate Wants Me Back (Seraphina and Mortimer) novel Chapter 100

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Chapter 100

Third Person’s PQV

Lillian watched in horror as Vivian stepped onto the jagged glass with her bare feet.

Crimson bloomed instantly across the pale carpet.

Lillian screamed, throwing her phone onto the bed and lunging to pull her daughter back.

“Vivian, have you lost your mind?! Connor! Get in here! Look at your daughter!”

“Mom, it hurts… I’m so guilty. I just want it to end.” Vivian’s voice was a fractured mess, a desperate, hollow plea. “Let me go… I’m so sorry for what I did to Seraphina…”

She was sobbing hysterically-the textbook picture of an emotional collapse triggered by “wolf-soul fracture.”

But over her mother’s shoulder, her eyes were locked on the phone still recording on the bed. A faint, lethal smirk touched the

corner of her mouth.

Lilian was completely terrified. She said, “Vivian, don’t scare me! Is it the wolf-soul fracture again? Don’t be afraid, I will take you for treatment right away!”

At the Blade’s Alpha Villa, Seraphina had returned alone after leaving the healing center.

There wasn’t much left to take. She packed two light suitcases, and that was it.

She stood in the center of the living room, a place she’d filled with her own time and care, but she didn’t feel the nostalgic pull

she expected.

She looked out at the terrace. It was a wasteland. The lush greenery Vivian had trashed was gone, replaced by patches of raw,

ugly dirt.

She stared at it for a second, then turned and walked out.

She didn’t look back. She didn’t leave a trace of her scent behind.

Craig Group HQ,

“Your coffee, sir.”

“Leave it.” Mortimer didn’t look up.

Since Seraphina got back from Alaska, the world felt like it was spinning off its axis. She was a stranger low-unpredictable, cold, and completely out of his reach.

His legendary composure was a joke; she could dismantle it with a single sentence.

He thought about the look in her eyes at the healing center-that dead, clinical indifference. His chest tightened.

It was a primal, biological ache, like a contract written in his blood was being torn to pieces.

His hand gave a sudden, involuntary jerk. The coffee splashed across his white shirt, blooming into an ugly, dark stain.

“Damn it!”

He reached for a napkin, but a figure beat him to it.

“Mr. Craig! Are you okay? Did you get burned? Let me help!”

The woman didn’t wait for an answer. She started fumbling with the buttons on his shirt, her fingers frantic. A wave of cheap, heavy perfume hit him square in the face.

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Chapter 1081

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Mortimer’s predatory instinct went from zero to a hundred.

The unwanted contact from a random woman triggered a raw, Alpha revulsion.

He shoved her back with zero filtered strength, his eyes flashing a lethal gold.

The clerk hit the floor, her face turning the color of ash. “Mr. Craig… I was just… I was worried…”

“GET OUT!” Mortimer roared. He slammed the button on his intercom.

Yolanda burst in a few seconds later.

She saw the mess on the floor and the clerk vibrating with terror in the corner. She didn’t need a map to know what had happened.

“Mr. Craig.”

“Who is this? Who hired this idiot?” Mortimer yanked at his tie, his chest heaving.

He felt a manic fire burning in his gut-Barton was howling, sensing a territorial insult.

Yolanda glanced at the girl on the floor. Dumb move.

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