Chapter 4
Violet's POV:
Zane groaned. He lay twisted in the gutter, clutching his right leg. His face was pale, draining of color with every sharp breath he took.
I ran toward him. I summoned every ounce of acting skill I had learned over ten years of being a perfect, fake wife. My face crumpled into a mask of panic.
"Oh my god! Are you okay?" I dropped to my knees beside him. "I am so, so sorry!"
Zane gritted his teeth. Sweat beaded on his forehead. "I... I think my leg is broken."
"It must be the bike's automated cruise control," My voice trembled with just the right amount of distress. "You know how it is. It’s the latest prototype from Blackwood Dynamics. It costs a fortune, but apparently, neither the machines nor the men from that company can stop themselves from losing control."
The dig at Daemon was subtle. Zane wouldn't catch it, but it tasted sweet on my tongue.
Zane tried to shift, gasping as the movement jarred his fracture. But instead of cursing me, he offered a weak, reassuring smile.
"It's okay," he wheezed. "Don't panic, Luna. I'm sure... I'm sure it was just an accident."
An hour later, I stood in the VIP wing of the Frost Pack Hospital. I had bypassed the crowded emergency room. I flashed my Blackwood platinum insurance card, and the staff immediately gave Zane a private suite.
I watched through the glass partition. The nurses were settling him into the crisp white sheets. His leg was in a cast, elevated on a pillow.
For a brief moment, a pang of guilt hit me. But just for a moment.
Fair is fair, I told myself. Celeste took my mate. Why shouldn't I take her mate?
I adjusted my tank top and put on a warm, mature smile. I pushed open the door.
"How is the patient?" I asked softly. I placed a basket of expensive fruits on the table.
Zane tried to sit up. "Luna... you really didn't have to do all this."
"Nonsense. I hurt you; I take care of you. That’s how I operate," I said. I pulled a chair close to the bed.
We talked for ten minutes. It was easy to get him to open up. He was from a small, poor pack in the Midwest. His parents were Omegas who worked as janitors. He was only able to attend this university thanks to the Blackwood Dynamics Charity Fund.
No wonder he couldn't hold onto Celeste. In the face of absolute power and wealth, innocent love is worthless, I thought.
"I'll be back on my feet in no time," Zane said, trying to sound tough. He tapped his cast. "I've got good genes. I'm durable. I can take a lot of punishment."
I stood up to leave. At the door, I stopped. I looked back at him, letting my eyes travel over his body slowly.
"That's good to hear, Zane," I said. My voice dropped, becoming husky and suggestive. "I like boys who are... durable."
I left him stunned and blushing against the pillows.
The hospital corridor was long and quiet. I walked past a row of windows and caught my reflection.
I looked tired. My skin was too pale. I lacked the healthy glow of a strong wolf. My collarbones poked out too much.
I had spent a decade shrinking. I stayed indoors. I waited by the phone. I tried to be the delicate doll he wanted. And what did I get? Nothing. He discarded me for someone vibrant and alive.
"No more," I whispered.
I returned to Blackwood Manor at 8:00 PM.
Daemon was coming down the stairs. He had showered and changed into a tuxedo. He was fastening his cufflinks. His face was cold. He didn't ask where I had been.
"There is a gala tonight," he said. His voice was flat. "A mixer for the Alliance Pack Alphas. Your parents are attending. Go change."
We sat in the back of the extended Maybach. Leo had raised the privacy partition. The silence in the car was heavy.
Daemon was reading documents on his tablet. He was working, as always. He ignored me completely.
I leaned back against the leather seat. My phone buzzed in my hand, hidden by the folds of my blue-green gown.
It was a message from Zane.
[The nurse just brought in the best meal I've ever had. Thank you again, Luna. You're... you're really amazing.]
I typed a quick reply. [Eat up. You need your strength if you want to keep up with me.]
A smirk touched my lips. It was funny. Beside me sat my mate, the "Sugar Daddy" to his college mistress. And here I was, playing "Sugar Mommy" to his mistress's mate.
The car was too hot. I felt irritated by the heat, by the dress, and by the man next to me.
I shifted in my seat. Usually, I sat with my knees pressed together, ankles crossed. But tonight, I didn't care.
I let my legs fall open. I pulled the slit of my dress up to my thigh, exposing my skin to the air. I sprawled out, taking up space.
Daemon saw the movement. He stopped scrolling. He looked at my exposed leg, then at my face. He frowned.
"Mind your image as Luna," he said coldly.
I didn't fix my dress. I simply reached into my purse and pulled out my noise-canceling headphones.
I put them over my ears. I closed my eyes and leaned back.
I spent ten years worrying about my image, I thought. It got me killed. Dead women don't care about dignity. I will sit however I want.
The gala was bright and loud. Crystal chandeliers sparkled above the crowd.
As soon as we walked in, Daemon changed. His cold face turned into a charming smile. He put a hand on my back. We were the Golden Couple again.
"Daemon! Violet! So good to see you!"
I played my part. I nodded and smiled for ten minutes. Then, I felt sick. I muttered an excuse about needing the bathroom and walked away.
I went to the terrace. I wanted fresh air. But as I opened the door, I heard voices from the shadows.
Three women were standing there, holding wine glasses. I recognized one of them. It was Petra Quinn, the she-wolf Daemon had been seen with recently.
"Why aren't you saying hello to him?" her friend asked.
Petra laughed. It was a mean sound. "And cause a scene? Please. The official Luna is here."
"That useless Violet?" the friend sneered. "Everyone knows Daemon bought you a private island last week. Is it true?"
"Yes," Petra said proudly. "Daemon is very generous."
"What about Violet? Does she know?"
"Violet?" another friend scoffed. "Violet is just a decoration. Daemon only brought her because her parents are here. He needs the Wildfire Pack alliance. Once the party is over, he’ll put her back in her box."
I walked back into the ballroom. I saw my parents near the buffet.
"Vi!" Eleanor hugged me tightly. She looked over my shoulder, confused. "Why aren't you with Daemon?"
"It's boring over there," I said, resting my head on her shoulder. "I'd rather be with you."
My father, Marcus, laughed and patted my back. "Good. You keep your mother company. I see some old war buddies by the bar. I’m going to go swap stories."
He wandered off happily, leaving us alone.
"Mom," I said. "I was considering hiring some housekeepers."
Eleanor looked surprised but pleased. "It’s about time! I’ve been trying to send help for years, but you always refused."
"I was young and stupid back then," I said. "I thought I wanted a 'two-person world.' I didn't want outsiders disturbing us. Now... I've had enough of that kind of life."
My mother nodded, satisfied.
In my past life, I had rejected all servants. I fantasized about domestic bliss. I imagined him hugging me from behind while I cooked, or us making love from the living room to the bedroom.
The reality was different. I lived like a widow.
Since I was reborn, that brain-dead dream needed to end.
The gala ended an hour later.
Daemon walked up to me. His face was blank. He checked his watch. "The car is here. Let's go."
I didn't move.
"I'm not going back to the manor," I said coolly. "I'm going to stay with my parents for a few days."
