Chapter 3
Bianca's POV
I don't know how I made it out of that hotel. My head was buzzing, my feet felt like they were sinking into cotton, and that taut wire stretched across my chest had snapped—clean through. I wandered the streets with no destination, walking and walking until the sky went completely dark, until my feet went numb, before I finally turned onto the street where my rented room was.
I pushed the door open and the darkness of the room hit me full in the face. I didn't turn on the light. I slid down against the wall by the door, collapsing onto the floor, knees drawn to my chest, forehead pressed against them. It's over. All of it.
I wanted to clean my body and peeled off my clothes, and something hard slipped from my pocket and clinked against the tiles—a gold card. I picked up the card. The label read 'Room 801, werewolf District.'I froze. I realized it was Nicholas' s key card. The thought of that humiliating night came rushing back—and the image of him using money to humiliate me. My fingers tightened around the card. I should have thrown it away. I didn’t. I tucked it away carefully before stepping into the shower.
The cold water pounded against my back and I scrubbed and scrubbed until my skin was red and raw. But that black cedar scent seemed to have taken root in my body—no matter what I did, I couldn't wash it away. I crouched on the bathroom tiles, water dripping from my hair, trembling all over. That was when the doorbell rang.
"Bianca? It's me, Mrs. Miller, dear."
The voice outside was soft and gentle, and I knew instantly it was Jason's mother. She'd always been good to me these past two years—an elder who genuinely cared, someone I'd come to love from the bottom of my heart. My first instinct when I heard her voice was actually not to open the door. Because of what had happened last night with that man. But right on its heels came a warm rush of happiness—she'd actually come all this way to see me.
I wiped my face, dried my tears, took a deep breath, and went to open the door.
"Mrs. Miller? Please, come in." I hurried to clear the way, moving Jason's jacket off the chair. "Have a seat, I'll get you some water."
She was wearing a clean dark gray coat, her scarf folded neatly at the collar, carrying a leather bag that had seen some years of use. She stepped inside, set her bag on the back of the chair, and looked around my cramped little room, her gaze pausing on the peeling table.
"Bianca, Jason was selected by the Turing family a while back." She took the glass of water, her tone carrying that particular concern elders have. "An old werewolf family in Moonshadow Bay—they run ports and logistics, very well-regarded around here. Being chosen by them, working under their protection—most people would kill for that chance. He didn't want me to tell you. He was afraid you'd overthink it."
"That's… that's really wonderful." I forced the words out, even as my heart sank again. "I'm happy for him."
"Are you?" Her tone carried a hint of challenge. "Because this is exactly what our family has been working toward. But the opportunity is good—it's just that he'll have to stay out of town for a while." She took a sip of water, set the glass down, and softened her voice. "Bianca, there's something I want to say to you. Don't take it the wrong way. Long-distance relationships—they don't last. You'll drift apart. You're a good girl. Why waste yourself waiting for someone? You deserve better."
I smiled, still warm inside. "Mrs. Miller, it's only three months. It's fine. We've made it two years—three months is nothing."
Her hand, holding the glass, paused. The smile on her face seemed to be slowly wiped away. "Nothing? What do you have to wait with?"
She set the glass down on the table with a thud, and her tone shifted into someone else entirely. "What I said before—that was the polite version. Jason has been chosen. His path goes upward from here. What neighborhood does your family live in? Don't you know? With you beside him, you're just dragging him down."
I opened my mouth, but not a single word came out. I couldn't reconcile this woman with the kind, caring elder I'd known. They were like two completely different people.
"Mrs. Miller, Jason and I have been together for two years. We've talked about our future."
She let out a short laugh, dismissive. "Future? What future can you give him? Working in that pathetic little human resources department at Rayne Group? We both know humans don't get promoted there. Jason deserves better."
I bit my lip and tasted blood. "I should hear it from Jason himself."
"You should know more." She ignored my words and continued. "There's a girl in their circle. Her father has significant influence in this city. She's taken an interest in Jason."
My free hand curled into a fist. "So you're here to tell me Jason is leaving me for a girl he just met?"
"I came out of courtesy." Her voice hardened. "I suggest you make this easier for everyone. End the relationship yourself. Don't make Jason do it. He's always been too soft-hearted for his own good."
She opened her leather bag and took out an envelope, placing it on the peeling table and pushing it toward me. "Take this. Consider it a token of my regard. If you truly care about him, settle this yourself. Don't wait for him to bring it up."
I stared at the envelope, thick and full. The second time tonight. The second person to pay me off in a single evening.
"I don't want it." I pushed the envelope back, my fingers pressed against the table, my voice quiet but steady. "Mrs. Miller, in these two years I've never wanted anything from your family. Please believe that we'll work hard together and have a good future."
She let out another short laugh, even more dismissive than the first. "You still don't get it, do you? In their circle, a human girl from the edge district isn't a future. She's a liability. Jason will figure that out soon enough—I'm just saving you both the humiliation of watching it happen slowly."
Tears blurred my vision again. Two years of late-night studying, two years of supporting each other, two years of dealing with messes and hardships together, of putting money into that joint account bit by bit—all of it ended in this moment. Because a werewolf family had reached out a hand to him.
And after what happened tonight with Nicholas Rayne, what right did I have to feel betrayed? I was damaged goods now. If anyone in human society knew I'd been with a werewolf—and an Alpha, no less—I'd be ostracized. No human man would want me.
"I understand." I lowered my head, my voice caught in my throat. "I'll do as you say."
"Good." She sounded pleased and said. "That's very… sensible of you. Jason will send someone to collect his things later. Goodbye, Bianca."
The door closed. The motion-sensor light in the hallway clicked off.
I stood alone at the window. Outside, the lights were bright, people were laughing, talking, living their ordinary lives—while mine had shattered into countless pieces.
I stood there until dawn light seeped through the thin curtains. Sleep never came. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Jason's face, then Nicholas Rayne's amber eyes, then the look of disappointment my adoptive mother Helen would wear if she knew what I'd done.
When the alarm went off, it was the next day—the day I was supposed to report to Rayne Group. I felt terrible. The cold shower last night had left me with a pounding head, aches deep in my bones. I thought about calling in sick, but the thought lasted only a second before I pushed it down. I needed this job. I needed the money—especially now that I'd be paying rent alone. I dragged myself into the bathroom, looked in the mirror, and frowned. My green eyes were swollen like walnuts, bloodshot, and my silver-white hair was a tangled mess against my face.
I pressed cold water to my eyes for a long while, then used a comb dipped in water to force my hair into some semblance of order. I changed into my one decent navy blue suit.
Before leaving, I tucked that gold key card into the innermost layer of my chest pocket, pressed it flat, and confirmed it sat against my ribs. I had to return it—first chance I got. But a part of me, the part that couldn't stop replaying last night, wasn't ready to let it go just yet. It was the only proof that any of it had been real.
Then I dragged my exhausted body to the bus stop and got on the bus. I told myself I just had to get through today—one day at a time, one foot in front of the other—because I had nothing left to hold onto except this job.
