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He Rose to Beta on My Money—Then Rejected Me Novel Cover

He Rose to Beta on My Money—Then Rejected Me

The burgundy tie cost two weeks of my rent. I’d spent ten years starving myself, scrubbing engine grease from my fingernails till they bled, all to pay Luke’s tuition at the Alpha Academy. I raised him, I funded him. I paid his bills. I helped him rise. I didn’t expect much. I never meant to push him. It was him who kneeled down to propose for a bond first. It was him who promised forever. So all I wanted was nothing but for him to keep his promise. But the day Luke was elevated to the Lycan’s beta, he walked into my shop with a pregnant woman on his arm and handed me a check for three thousand dollars. "Be realistic, Jane," he sneered, smoothing his Italian suit. "You were a useful tenant. But I’m a Beta now. I need a pedigree, not a mechanic. You’re rejected. Consider this severance." Ten years. $312,000 given out. All dismissed as "charity." When I tried to fight, he destroyed me. He broke my employee’s ribs, and when I took my receipts to the capital, every lawyer slammed the door in my face. "He’s untouchable," they whispered. Desperate, I confronted him on the street, clutching the evidence of my wasted life. Luke didn't panic. He called the police, branded me a stalker, and while the officers pinned my arms behind my back, he slapped me across the face. "You are nothing," he whispered, wiping my blood from his knuckles as the cops laughed. "Next time, I won't be so gentle." He thinks he broke me. He thinks because I’m just a human mechanic, I’m powerless against a wolf. He forgot one thing. I know exactly how to take an engine apart—and I’m going to dismantle his life, piece by piece.
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Chapter 3

The second law office was smaller than Henderson's, tucked into a mid-rise building that smelled of old coffee and broken dreams. The nameplate on the door read "Carlisle & Partners," though the receptionist informed me that Mr. Carlisle was the only partner left.

James Carlisle was younger than Henderson, maybe in his forties, with tired eyes and a suit that had seen better days. His office was cluttered with case files stacked precariously on every surface, and the view from his window showed nothing but the brick wall of the building next door.

"Financial fraud, you said?" He flipped through my documents with the kind of weary efficiency that suggested he'd seen every variation of human greed. "The documentation is solid. Bank records, receipts, even email correspondence. This is actually a pretty straightforward case of unjust enrichment."

My heart lifted slightly. "So you'll take it?"

"Who's the defendant?"

"Luke Morrison. He's a Beta with Silver Moon Pack."

Carlisle's hands stilled on the papers. When he looked up, his expression had shifted from professional interest to something that looked almost like pity.

"Morrison... as in the Morrison who's engaged to Bianca Vance?"

The name hit me like ice water. "You know her?"

"Know of her." He leaned back in his chair, suddenly looking older. "Ms. Miller, the Vance family doesn't just have money—they have connections. Legal connections. Bianca's uncle sits on the State Bar Association. Her cousin is a federal judge. Her father's law firm has tentacles in every major legal decision made in this city."

I felt the familiar crushing weight of powerlessness settling over my chest. "So you won't help me either."

"It's not that I won't," Carlisle said carefully. "It's that I can't. Even if we won—and that's a big if—the Vance family would bury you in appeals and counter-suits until you were bankrupt. Worse, they could flip this around and charge you with extortion. Harassment. They have the resources to make you the criminal in this story."

He pushed my folder back across the desk, but his touch was gentler than Henderson's had been. "Take whatever settlement Morrison offered and disappear, Ms. Miller. These people will destroy you just to prove they can."

I walked out of that office feeling like I was drowning in quicksand—every struggle just pulled me deeper.

***

The third law firm was my last hope, and I knew it. Marcus Thorne's office was in the basement level of a building that had seen better decades. Water stains marked the ceiling tiles, and the fluorescent lights flickered intermittently, casting everything in an sickly, unstable glow.

Thorne himself looked like he'd been chewed up and spit out by the legal system more than once. His gray hair was unkempt, his shirt wrinkled, and there were dark circles under his eyes that spoke of too many late nights and too much cheap whiskey.

"So you're the mechanic who thinks she can take down a Beta," he said without preamble, not even bothering to look at my carefully organized documents.

"I'm not trying to take anyone down. I just want what's owed to me."

Thorne laughed, but there was no humor in it. "Lady, you're not just fighting Luke Morrison. You're fighting the entire system that put him where he is. You think the Lycan Court gives a damn about some ordinary wolf who got her heart broken?"

"This isn't about heartbreak—"

"No?" He finally looked up, his eyes sharp despite his disheveled appearance. "Then let me explain how this really works. Morrison climbs the ladder, marries into money, gets his Beta appointment. You? You're a loose thread that needs to be cut off. The Vance family has probably already started building a case against you."

My blood ran cold. "What kind of case?"

"Stalking. Harassment. Attempted extortion." He ticked off each charge on his fingers like he was reading from a menu. "They'll paint you as a delusional ex-lover who can't accept rejection. They'll say you fabricated those financial records, that you're trying to blackmail Morrison for money you never gave him."

The room felt like it was spinning. "But I have proof—"

"Proof can be discredited. Bank records can be explained away as gifts between lovers. Emails can be taken out of context." Thorne leaned forward, his voice dropping to a harsh whisper. "You want my professional advice? Get in your truck, drive back to Seattle, and pray they don't decide to make an example out of you."

I stood on shaking legs, my folder clutched against my chest like armor that I knew wouldn't protect me from anything.

"The system isn't broken, Ms. Miller," Thorne called after me as I reached the door. "It's working exactly as designed. To keep people like you in your place."

***

I spent that night in a cheap motel, staring at the water-stained ceiling and listening to the sounds of the city through paper-thin walls. Three lawyers. Three rejections. Three confirmations that Luke was untouchable and I was nothing.

But as the hours passed, the despair began to crystallize into something harder. Something that felt like rage.

If the legal system wouldn't help me, then I'd have to help myself.

I pulled out my phone and searched for Luke's address. It wasn't hard to find—Beta appointments were public record, and his new luxury apartment was listed in the pack directory. Penthouse suite in the Meridian Towers, purchased six months ago. Right around the time he'd gotten engaged to Bianca.

Purchased with her father's money, no doubt.

The next morning, I positioned myself across the street from the Meridian Towers with copies of every financial document I had. Bank statements, receipts, email printouts—everything organized in a manila envelope that represented ten years of my life.

The building was everything I'd expected. Glass and steel reaching toward the sky, doormen in crisp uniforms, valet parking for cars that cost more than most people's houses. The kind of place where ordinary wolves like me weren't welcome.

I waited for three hours before Luke's silver Porsche pulled up to the valet stand. My heart hammered against my ribs as I watched him emerge from the driver's seat, looking every inch the successful Beta in his tailored suit and expensive watch.

Bianca wasn't with him, and for that I was grateful. I wasn't sure I could face both of them at once.

I crossed the street quickly, my envelope clutched in sweaty hands. "Luke!"

He turned at the sound of his name, and I watched his face cycle through surprise, annoyance, and finally cold fury in the space of a heartbeat.

"What the hell are you doing here, Jane?"

"I tried to do this the right way," I said, pulling the documents from the envelope. "I went to lawyers, I followed proper channels. But no one will take my case because they're all afraid of you and your fiancée's family."

Luke's eyes darted around the street, clearly worried about being seen with me. "You need to leave. Now."

"Not until you look at these." I held out the bank statements, the receipts, the proof of everything he owed me. "Three hundred and twelve thousand dollars, Luke. That's what I gave you over ten years. Not three thousand. Not charity. Three hundred and twelve thousand dollars that you need to pay back."

Instead of taking the documents, Luke pulled out his phone. His fingers moved quickly across the screen, and I heard the dial tone through the speaker.

"911? Yes, I need police at the Meridian Towers immediately. There's a woman here harassing me and my pregnant fiancée. She's unstable, possibly dangerous."

The words hit me like a physical blow. "Luke, what are you doing?"

He ended the call and fixed me with a look of pure contempt. "What I should have done the moment you showed up in my city. You're about to learn what happens to people who don't know their place."

The police arrived faster than I would have thought possible. Two werewolf officers in dark uniforms, their hands already moving toward their weapons as they approached.

"That's her," Luke said, pointing at me like I was some kind of criminal. "She's been stalking me and threatening my family."

"Sir, please step back," one of the officers said to Luke, but his tone was respectful, almost deferential. When he turned to me, his voice hardened. "Ma'am, I need you to put your hands where I can see them."

"This is a misunderstanding," I said, but my words were cut off as the second officer grabbed my arm and spun me around, pressing me roughly against the hood of their patrol car.

The metal was hot from the sun, burning against my cheek as they yanked my arms behind my back. "I have documents," I gasped. "Financial records. This is a civil dispute, not—"

"She's delusional," Luke said, walking closer now that I was restrained. "She thinks we had some kind of relationship, but she was just a tenant who became obsessed with me."

That's when he hit me.

The slap came without warning, his palm connecting with my cheek with enough force to snap my head to the side. Stars exploded across my vision, and I tasted blood where my teeth cut the inside of my mouth.

"You are nothing to me," he said, his voice low and venomous. "You were nothing ten years ago, and you're nothing now. The sooner you accept that, the easier this will be for everyone."

I waited for the officers to arrest him, to at least acknowledge that he'd just assaulted a restrained woman. Instead, I watched one of them nod respectfully.

"Sorry about the trouble, Beta Morrison. We'll take care of this."

Beta Morrison. They knew exactly who he was, and that knowledge made me invisible.

Luke straightened his tie and walked back toward the building entrance, leaving me bleeding and humiliated against the police car. At the door, he paused and looked back.

"If I see you near me, my fiancée, or my home again, I'll have you arrested for stalking. And next time, I won't be so gentle."

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