TRADING MY CHEATING HUSBAND FOR THE LYCAN KING novel Chapter 128

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CHAPTER 85: HELLO, WIFE

EMBER’S POV

He’s wearing an orange jumpsuit, bright and garish against the elegant backdrop of the dining room. His wrists are bound in front of him, his ankles shackled with just enough chain to let him shuffle forward.

He looks smaller than I remember, diminished somehow, like custody has already started to compress him into something lesser.

I go completely still.

The last time I saw him, he was screaming at me in a courtroom. Calling me a liar, a whore, a worthless omega who should have been grateful for everything he gave her.

He was red–faced and feral, all his carefully constructed masks stripped away to reveal the monster underneath.

This Gale is different.

But when his eyes find mine across the room, he grins.

That same cold, cruel smile I know so well.

The one that always came before the worst of it. The one that said I know exactly how to hurt you and I’m

going to enjoy every second.

“Hello, wife,” he says, and the word drips with venom.

Before I can respond, before Knox can lunge across the table, Logan is on his feet.

He doesn’t bother hiding it anymore. He doesn’t pretend to be just a business partner or a concerned

friend.

He crosses the room in three quick strides and pulls Gale into his arms, holding him close, burying his face in Gale’s neck like he’s been starving for this, like he’s been counting the seconds until he could touch him again.

“I missed you,” Logan murmurs against Gaie’s hair. “Goddess, I missed you. You’re okay. I’m here now.” Gale sags into him, the cruel mask crumbling, and for a moment they’re just two men clinging to each other in a room full of people who want them destroyed.

Harrison’s jaw goes very tight.

He clears his throat, sharp and pointed, and the two men separate awkwardly.

Gale is guided to a chair by the guards and unbound, and Logan returns to his seat beside him, their hands finding each other under the table.

I watch this with something complicated churning in my chest.

CHAPTERS GELO WIFE

Eight years. I was married to this man for years and I never once saw him look at anyone the way he looks at Logan.

Never saw tenderness in those eyes. Never saw need or want or anything resembling love.

Never once gave me this version of himself.

“Now then,” Harrison says, lifting his wine glass like nothing unusual has happened. “We are finally all present. Welcome to what I hope will be a productive evening.”

He surveys the table, taking in every face, every tension, every barely contained hatred simmering under the surface.

“This dinner exists because of an unfortunate series of events. My son’s indiscretions. The subsequent scandal. The very public dissolution of a marriage that was meant to unite two families.” His gaze slides to me, then to Knox, then back to his wine. “We are here to discuss, to clear the air, and to end things on mutually agreeable grounds.”

He takes a sip, savoring it.

“But for now, we eat. We make merry. We enjoy the luxuries of this fine dining until the hour of darker

territories arrives.”

Darker territories.

I don’t know what that means, but I know I don’t like it.

The first course arrives, some kind of delicate soup presented in shallow bowls with artistic drizzles of cream and microgreens arranged just so.

I can’t taste a thing.

Harrison dominates the conversation with terrifying civility, asking questions that sound innocent enough

He inquires about my mother’s travels and she preens, name–dropping obscure European cities she definitely can’t afford to visit, spinning tales of luxury that don’t quite match the desperation clinging to

Γ the edges of her designer dress.

He asks Knox about recent business expansions and Knox responds in clipped, careful sentences that

give nothing away.

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