Chapter 7: The Last Illusion

Alyia's POV

The disbelief and shock flooding Daniel's deep, cold green eyes were almost palpable as he stared at me, unblinking.

After a few seconds, that stunned expression dissolved into a mocking, deeply sardonic smile that curved his lips with deliberate cruelty.

"Alyia, is this another one of your playing-hard-to-get schemes?"

He leaned back against the sofa armrest, hands braced on either side, regarding me with the kind of leisurely confidence that came from absolute certainty of control. His tone dripped with condescension.

"You want a divorce over a lipstick stain?"

My entire body went rigid. I stared at him, turning to something colder, harder.

I had fought tooth and nail for him, carried the weight of public condemnation for his sake, endured two years of cold violence and betrayal. And now, at this moment when I'd finally scraped together enough self-respect to let both of us go, he reduced it all to some manipulative game.

This was how he saw me.

"Playing hard to get?" The words tasted bitter on my tongue, and I couldn't stop the twisted smile that pulled at my lips. "Daniel, why do you always assume everyone's scheming against you?"

I dropped my gaze, pressing my fingers to my temples with bone-deep exhaustion.

"I've thought about this for a long time. If it weren't for that damned Moon Goddess prophecy two years ago, Della would be standing beside you right now. You've spent these years fighting fate and punishing me because you think I stole her place, don't you? So now I'm stepping aside. I'm giving you what you want. Isn't that what you've been waiting for?"

Daniel didn't reflect. Instead, he rose to his full height with infuriating nonchalance, straightening to his full height and regarding me with the cold ease of a man who had never once doubted his own authority.

"Giving me what I want?"

His laugh was soft, derisive. "Alyia, you're a powerless orphan from nowhere. Marrying me through the Moon Goddess's prophecy is the greatest fortune you'll ever have in this lifetime. Now that you've secured your position as Vice President, you expect me to believe you'd just walk away from all of it?"

He was certain I couldn't leave him—couldn't abandon the prestige and wealth the Sterling name afforded me. My breath caught, chest rising and falling in sharp, uneven rhythms.

I held his gaze, forcing each word out with deliberate precision. "What if I dissolve this marriage in front of the entire Sterling family as witnesses? Would you still think I'm joking then?"

Daniel visibly froze, but the pause lasted only a heartbeat before amusement flickered back into his expression.

"Alyia." He drew out my name like he was indulging a tantrum-throwing child. "I see you're really upset this time."

My brows drew together. "I'm not—"

"Right, you're not."

His agreement was perfunctory, dismissive, every syllable broadcasting his utter disbelief. Before I could process his response, his hand shot out and locked around my wrist, yanking me forward until I collided with his chest.

"Let go!"

"No." His chin came to rest against the crown of my head, and his voice actually carried a thread of what might have been exasperation in anyone else. "All this drama over a lipstick mark? Alyia, I never knew you were the jealous type."

My whole body went stiff with disbelief. This was his interpretation?

"I'm not jealous."

"Mm-hmm." He continued that maddeningly casual hum of acknowledgment, his long fingers threading through my hair in slow, soothing strokes as though I were nothing more than a ruffled cat in need of calming. "We'll talk about it again after you've cooled down."

"Daniel!"

"Shh." He dipped his head, catching my chin between his fingers with that same infuriating certainty bordering on arrogance. "You won't leave Sterling. And you won't leave me. So stop threatening me with divorce. I don't like it."

I stared at him, something hollow opening up in my chest. Even now, he thought this was just a tantrum. It had never even occurred to him that I might actually leave.

"I know these past few days have been hard on you. Once this product launch storm blows over, I'll take you to pick out whatever jewelry you want. Consider it my apology, all right?"

His voice dropped into that low, coaxing register, but the words landed like shards of ice. He hadn't heard a single thing I'd said.

He genuinely believed my despair, my collapse, was nothing more than a petulant mood that required his magnanimous attention and a generous gift to smooth over.

In his mind, I would always be the dependent he could manipulate at will, someone who couldn't possibly survive without him and the Sterling family name.

In that moment, the last fragile thread of hope inside me snapped cleanly in two.

I stopped arguing. Stopped demanding answers. Even the energy required to push him away felt like a waste.

"I understand." My voice came out flat, controlled, as I extracted myself from his embrace and put deliberate distance between us.

My expression smoothed into the practiced neutrality I wore in boardrooms, and I inclined my head in a gesture of cool professionalism. "You should get some rest."

Seeing me suddenly quiet, Daniel apparently took it as proof his reassurances had worked. The tension eased from his brow, and that familiar look of absolute control settled back into his eyes as he turned and disappeared into his study.

The living room fell back into deathly silence.

Arguing with him was pointless. Demanding accountability was even more futile. From this moment forward, I abandoned any notion of reasoning with him face-to-face. I didn't need his understanding, didn't need his cooperation, and certainly didn't need his condescending gestures of reconciliation.

I turned and walked back to the bedroom, pulling open the bottom drawer and extracting the legal documents I'd prepared weeks ago. If he thought this was all a joke, then I'd simply proceed through the family and legal channels without him.

The next morning, I didn't go to the office. Instead, I drove straight to the estate.

I stood before the imposing grandeur of the Sterling manor, my hand reaching out to push open the heavy doors. The corridor stretched ahead, lined with portraits of Alphas past—generations of power and legacy staring down from gilded frames. This place was the seat of the Pack's highest authority, and it was also where my marriage to Daniel had begun.

"Alyia?"

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