Chapter 7

Lana's POV

The slap resonated through the cavernous office like a gunshot. My palm burned, the skin on my hand stinging almost as much as the silver-rot in my marrow.

Silas didn't move. His head was turned slightly to the side, his jaw clenched so hard the muscle was a white-hot cord beneath his skin. For a heartbeat, the only sound was the hum of the HVAC system and the thundering of my own pulse.

Slowly, Silas turned his face back to me. His eyes weren't just gold; they were molten, overflowing with a primal, dangerous heat.

"Do you think I'm blind, Lana?" he hissed, his voice dropping to a register that made the glass walls of the office vibrate. "I saw you. I saw you draped over him, cuddling like a pathetic, needy omega. Who couldn't see that?"

The sheer audacity of his accusation made my head spin.

"Hugging? Cuddling?" I barked a laugh that sounded more like a sob. "Is that what you call it when someone saves your life? I almost died on that street, Silas! A car came out of nowhere. It nearly took my head off."

I paused, a sickening realization washing over me as I watched his expression. He didn't look surprised. He didn't look horrified. He looked… irritated.

"Wait," I whispered, my voice trembling. "Don't tell me. That black SUV… the one that missed me by an inch. That was you, wasn't it?"

Silas didn't deny it. He didn't even blink. He just raised a hand, his long, powerful fingers loosening the silk tie at his throat as if the air in the room had become too thin for him to breathe. "You shouldn't have been standing so close to the curb. It's a busy district."

My heart broke. It didn't just crack; it pulverized. I had spent three years painstakingly filtering poison out of this man's blood. I had sacrificed my future, my health, and my very soul to ensure he stayed on that throne. And he hated me so much that he wouldn't even swerve to avoid hitting me? To him, I was just a nuisance on the sidewalk of his life.

"Since you've seen it, then fine," I said, my voice hardening into something cold and brittle. "I have nothing left to say to you. Caspian Thorne is the next man I've found. He's brilliant, he's kind, and he actually looks at me when I speak. So please, Silas, for the love of the Goddess, sign the goddamn papers so I can go to him. I'm done being your ghost."

The anger in his eyes didn't vanish, but it was joined by a dark, suffocating possessiveness.

"When you could make money off me, you clung to me like a leech," Silas said, stepping closer until his Alpha aura felt like a physical weight on my chest.

"But the second the well runs dry—the second my aunt is gone and the contract is up—you kick me to the curb for a disgraced doctor? Tell me, Lana, what do you take me for? A tool? A goddamn ATM with a pulse?"

"Yes," I snapped, looking him dead in the eye.

I knew Silas Vane. I knew his pride was his greatest strength and his fatal flaw. He could tolerate a wife who hated him, but he could never tolerate being used as a "tool."

I wanted to provoke him. I wanted him to feel so much disgust for me that he would sign the papers just to be rid of the "parasite."

I knew the law. If we didn't sign today, the petition would be automatically withdrawn. I'd have to wait another month, reapply, and go through the thirty-day cooling-off period all over again. I didn't have thirty days. The silver in my blood was already ticking like a bomb.

"I took you for exactly what you are," I continued, my voice dripping with fake venom. "A means to an end. But now the end is here, and I'm ready for a better model."

I waited for the explosion. I waited for him to shove the papers at me and tell me to go to hell.

Instead, Silas reached out. His movement was so fast I couldn't even flinch. He grabbed my chin, his thumb pressing into the soft skin beneath my jaw, forcing my head up until I had no choice but to look into the gold fire of his eyes.

"Don't even think about it," he growled through gritted teeth.

I blinked, confused. "What?"

"You heard me. Don't even think about it," Silas repeated. His grip tightened—not enough to bruise, but enough to show me he wasn't letting go. "You're the one who forced this marriage on me three years ago. You're the one who trapped me in this 'charity' contract. And now that you want out? Now that you have a 'next man' lined up?"

He leaned in, his lips inches from mine, his scent of forest rain turning dark and stormy. "The more you want this divorce, Lana, the less I'm inclined to give it to you. I don't like being told when to move. Especially not by you."

I stared at him, my mind reeling. "Are you... are you serious? Silas, do you even hear yourself? You've spent three years telling me I'm a burden! You've spent three years waiting for Celine to come back! Why the hell are you being so rebellious now?"

"Because I can be," he snapped, shoving my chin away. He turned back to his desk, dismissing me as if I were a subordinate who had failed a task. "I'm not signing today. I have work to do."

"Are you sure?" I asked, my voice shaking with a mix of rage and desperation. "Are you absolutely sure you want to stay married to a 'gold-digger' who treats you like a tool?"

"I won't sign," he said, his back to me.

“Fine,” I muttered. “I can file for divorce after we’ve been separated for a year anyway.”

Silas turned around, his gaze sharp.

“Lana, don't pull any tricks. And you have to stay home tonight. Otherwise, as for your gamma friend’s small business… I can’t promise they’ll still have a name in the city next quarter.”

I stared at him in shock and hissed, “That’s low! Maya has nothing to do with the matter!”

I knew how influential Silas was in the Northern Hemisphere. If he wanted something done, he could make it happen.

“You can’t drag Maya into this!” I shouted, but he was already reaching for the intercom.

“Marcus,” Silas said coldly. “Take Mrs. Vane home.”