Sold to Bastard Alpha after My Divorce! novel Chapter 83

Chapter 83: Chapter 83

Aria’s POV

My first day at Morrison Industries was a disaster.

I spilled coffee on myself. Twice. I couldn’t figure out how to work the copy machine. I accidentally hung up on an important client because I pressed the wrong button on the phone system.

By lunch, I was ready to crawl into a hole and die.

"You’re doing fine," Mrs. Morrison said when she found me hiding in the break room. "Everyone struggles on their first day."

"I’m not struggling." I stared at the coffee stain on my blouse. "I’m failing. Spectacularly."

She laughed. Actually laughed. Like my incompetence was somehow endearing.

"Aria, I hired you because my daughter vouched for you. And because I saw something in your eyes during our interview." She sat down across from me. Her presence was calm. Reassuring. "You’ve been through hard times. I can tell. But hard times make strong people. You’ll figure this out."

I wanted to believe her. Wanted to trust that this wasn’t just another dead end.

But trust didn’t come easy anymore.

Not after everything.

I learned things I’d never needed to know in the wolf world. Spreadsheets. Email etiquette. Corporate hierarchy. The mysterious art of scheduling meetings that somehow never conflicted with other meetings.

It was exhausting.

But also... exciting?

For the first time in months, I had a purpose. A routine. Something to focus on besides the constant ache in my chest.

My desk was in the corner of the executive floor. Small but mine. I had a computer, a phone, and a plant that Sophie had given me as a "welcome to the human world" gift.

The plant was already dying.

"You’re overwatering it," Sophie informed me during one of her visits. She came by almost every day. Sometimes to help. Sometimes to chat. Sometimes just to steal snacks from my desk drawer.

"I’m trying to keep it alive."

"By drowning it?" She plucked the wilting leaves off. "Plants are like people, Aria. Sometimes they need you to back off and let them breathe."

I stared at her. "That’s surprisingly deep."

"I have my moments." She grinned. That infectious smile that made it impossible not to smile back. "So. How’s the job treating you?"

"Good. I think." I saved the document I’d been working on. "Your mom is patient. The other assistants have been helpful. I’m still learning the systems, but I’m getting there."

"See? I told you this would work out."

"You told me I could handle anything because I saved your life."

"Same thing."

I rolled my eyes. But I was smiling.

"Okay, so there’s this café two blocks over that has the BEST sandwiches," she was saying as we walked. "And they make this chocolate cake that will literally change your life. Like, forget everything you thought you knew about chocolate. This is the real deal."

"You sound like a commercial."

"I should be! They should pay me for how much I talk about their food." She linked her arm through mine. "Come on, pregnant lady. You need to eat more. You’re still too skinny."

My hand went to my stomach. Five months now. The bump was visible under my loose blouse. Getting harder to hide.

Not that I was trying to hide it anymore.

Here, in this human world, being a single pregnant woman wasn’t a scandal. It wasn’t shameful. It was just... life.

People were kind. Offered me seats on the bus. Held doors open. Asked about my due date with genuine interest instead of cruel judgment.

It was strange.

Nice strange. But still strange.

The café was exactly as Sophie described. Cozy. Warm. Smelling like fresh bread and coffee.

We grabbed a table by the window. Sophie ordered for both of us. Something about me "not knowing what’s good yet."

I let her. It was easier than arguing.

"So." Sophie propped her chin on her hand. "Tell me more about your life before. You’ve been so mysterious about it."

My smile faltered.

I’d avoided this topic. Deflected every time she asked. Changed the subject or made excuses.

But Sophie had been so good to me. She’d gotten me this job. Given me a friend when I had no one. Treated me like a person when I’d forgotten what that felt like.

She deserved the truth.

Or at least... part of it.

"What do you want to know?" I asked carefully.

"Everything!" She leaned forward. Eyes bright with curiosity. "Where did you grow up? What was your family like? How did you end up pregnant and alone in the worst part of the city?"

"That’s a lot of questions."

"I have a lot of curiosity." She grinned. "Come on, Aria. We’re friends now. Real friends. And real friends share their stories."

I took a deep breath. Let it out slowly.

Where did I even begin?

"I grew up poor," I said finally. "Really poor. My mother was... not a good person. She used me. Used all of us. My sisters learned from her. Became just as selfish. Just as cruel."

Sophie’s face softened. "That sounds awful."

"It was." I picked at my napkin. Shredded it into tiny pieces. "I tried to escape. Got married young. Thought it would be my way out."

"And?"

"And it wasn’t." A bitter laugh escaped my throat. "My husband was worse than my family. He didn’t love me. Never loved me. I was just... convenient. A means to an end."

The memories hit harder than I expected.

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