sta

ense against the biting November wind. The metal bench of the viewing stand was c

ave for a few guards making their rounds on t

and a trail of shouted threats behind him. By now, he would be doing what men like him always did when corne

of love, but viewed through the harsh, unforgiving lens of truth. The details I had once dismissed as

eap, his ambition a raw, hungry thing in his eyes. It was I who had introduced him to the right peop

s side, cutting the first slice of cake for her, his arm around her shoulders. "We must take care of our heroes' widows," he'd announced to the room, his

n, Elias Raymond, clutching the sleeve of her black dress. Two children.

at school and needed a man's guidance. Elias needed his Uncle Keaton to teach him how to hold a blade. Elias needed someone to take him riding because the poor child had no fathe

to a trust he managed, "for training Pack-affiliated horses," he'd said. A month later, I discovered the property had been quietly transferred to Carolyn. When I'd confronted him, his eyes had fill

e shame was gone. In their place was an arc

is bank. His key to a world he co

t all. My mother, Genevieve, with her sharp, calculating eyes, saw everything. She had pu

They needed a man like Keaton-ambitious, ruthless, but with no power

the wolfless Omega, a useful bargaining chip whose personal happin

n't just about a cheating husband anymore. If I wanted out of this marriage, I wa

vate trust fund my grandfather had left me, the only account my mother didn't have complete con

, encrypted email to Marcus, my personal lawyer, the only

rc

a beneficiary. I suspect misappropriation of funds by Keaton Raymond. Freeze any l

This was the point of no return. I press

e to the training grounds dr

men who preferred strategy to accountability. He was flanked by a few of his sycophantic junior advisors, striding onto the

l stands. A slow, malicious smirk spread

g hunting knife. He didn't look at me, but he raised

his cronies. "Something for Elias Raymond. Carolyn's boy

t, so childish, it was

he child now. Keaton never wasted a shi

slowly stood up, brushing the dust from my shaw

boots ringing with each deliberate step