His Loss, Her Eternal Unbreakable Love
My husband, Jackson, the Alpha of the Dorsey Pack, was supposed to be my partner, my equal. I paid for everything, from his suits to our private jet. Today, the man I loved told me I wasn't flying with him to the Alpha Summit.
Instead, he declared his mistress, Amber, "fragile" and needing my jet, while I got an economy ticket. His mother, Cornelia, added my healing "aura" was too "intense" for Amber.
My heart shattered from the public humiliation. Jackson kissed Amber, a tenderness denied me for years, while the pack looked away. He even blocked our mind-link, the ultimate rejection.
A searing, cold rage erupted. For five years, I suppressed my royal White Wolf blood, enduring their disdain for a man who now cast me aside like trash.
As my jet lifted into the sky, something inside me unleashed. I pulled out my phone, fingers trembling with resolve. "Cancel the Gulfstream's flight. Ground them. Cut everything. The game is over."
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Chapter 4
Hayley's Perspective:
The air at forty thousand feet was clean and crisp.
I sat in the leather seat of my charter-not my Gulfstream, but a smaller, faster Learjet.
I swirled the champagne in my glass. It tasted like victory.
The phone on the table buzzed. It had been buzzing for an hour.
I finally picked it up. Forty-seven missed calls from Jackson. Twelve from Cornelia. Five from "Pack Attorney."
Ignoring them all, I dialed another number.
"Council of Wolves, Legal Division. Which pack, please?"
"This is Dr. Hayley Hogan. I'm filing a Clause Seven revocation against Alpha Jackson Dorsey."
Silence on the line for a moment. Clause Seven was rare. It was the "bad faith" clause.
Normally, the male filed against the female for infidelity. A female filing against a male for financial or emotional incompetence was almost unheard of.
"Dr. Hogan... are you sure? This will freeze all assets associated with the mating bond immediately."
"I know," I said. "I want the divorce papers served to him electronically. Serve them now."
"Very well. We'll need a reason to file."
"Adultery," I said. "Embezzlement of pack funds. And..." I paused, looking out the window at the clouds. "Stupidity."
"I'll... I'll mark it as 'irreconcilable differences,' ma'am."
"Do it."
I hung up.
Almost instantly, a searing pain lanced through my chest.
The Bond.
The filing of the legal document had triggered the magical severance.
The golden thread that connected my soul to Jackson's pulled taut.
I gritted my teeth. The pain was visceral, like a hook being yanked from my heart.
But beneath the pain, there was relief.
My phone lit up again. A text from Jackson.
Jackson: Cards aren't working. Hotel canceled our reservations. They said the card we registered was reported stolen. Hayley, fix this NOW! We're stranded!
I smiled and didn't reply.
Instead, I opened the mind-link for the last time.
The connection was fuzzy. He was still trying to block me, but his panic leaked through.
"Hayley! Answer me! Where are you?" His voice echoed in my head.
I took a sip of champagne.
"I'm flying to St. Barts," I projected clearly, cutting through the noise in his mind. "The weather is lovely there this time of year."
"St. Barts? You were supposed to be on a cargo flight! Listen to me, send money. Amber is crying. She's stressed. It's bad for the baby!"
"Jackson, there is no baby," I said. "And even if there were, not my problem."
"You're my mate! You're the Luna! You have responsibilities!"
"My responsibilities ended when you gave my seat to your mistress," I replied. "I've instructed the bank to flag any transactions from your location as fraud. You have no access to the trust or the contingency fund."
"How are we supposed to get home?!" The fear in his voice was delicious.
"Run!" I said. "You're a wolf, right? Use your legs!"
"Hayley, please. Mom's sick. She needs her medication."
"Tell Amber to heal her. Oh, wait. Amber's a thief. She can't heal anything."
"I command you to-"
How cute. He still thought he could command me.
When I loved him, he was an Alpha.
When I took my love back, with interest.
"Goodbye, Jackson."
I closed my eyes and visualized the golden thread in my mind.
Ragged. Ugly. Tainted by his betrayal.
I pictured a silver pair of scissors.
Snip.
The crack was audible in the physical plane. A shockwave rippled through the cabin, rattling the glasses.
The link was gone. The lingering shadow of Jackson in my mind-his moods, his wants, his selfishness-vanished.
Silence. Beautiful, absolute silence.
I let out a long breath, realizing I'd been holding it.
I looked down at my left hand. The diamond that symbolized my oppression glittered.
I walked to the garbage chute and dropped the ring in.
Trash to trash, I whispered mentally.
I went back to my seat. The pilot's voice came over the speaker.
"Dr. Hogan, we're beginning our descent into St. Barts. A car from the Sanctuary will be waiting for you."
"Thank you," I said.
I picked up my phone one last time and opened the banking app.
Dorsey Pack Operating Account: $0.00
Hayley Hogan Personal Trust: $550,000,000.00
I locked the screen.
I didn't need to do anything else to Jackson. When he realized the accounts were zeroed out, he'd implode on his own.
He didn't know yet that he wasn't coming back to a den. He didn't know the deed was in my name.
The best was yet to come.
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9.0
I crashed a wedding.
Got caught by the best man.
Now, I'm pregnant with his baby...
It's Katya's fault. (As per usual.)
My BFF despises her ex and wants to hate-watch him marry the woman he left her for.
Problem is, she didn't fill me in on that plan...
Until we arrive at the ceremony.
As soon as I find out, I run.
Hop on the elevator and smash the Doors Close button like the Energizer Bunny on a sugar rush.
But right before they shut...
A hand comes shooting through.
And attached to that hand, unfortunately for me, is the most stunning human specimen I've ever seen.
Tall.
Dark.
Handsome.
Dangerous.
Also... the best man.
He takes one look at me and knows I don't belong.
"Who let you in here, little bird?" he growls.
I gulp. Tremble.
Open my mouth to lie...
And then the elevator stops.
9.7
For three years, I believed I had the perfect, flawlessly submissive wife.
But right as I was about to sign a fifty-million-dollar divorce settlement to make her go away quietly, I suddenly heard a sharp, ecstatic voice echoing inside my skull.
"Freedom! Long live freedom! I finally shook off this absolute bastard!"
I snapped my head up, only to see Iris sitting across the table, her delicate shoulders trembling as she sobbed into her hands, looking like a shattered woman losing her entire world.
It wasn't a hallucination; I could actually hear her inner thoughts. The realization hit me like a physical blow. My fragile, heartbroken wife was a calculating hypocrite who mentally cursed me out while physically begging me to stay. When I later dragged her out of a nightclub where she was partying half-naked, I heard her true thoughts about our intimacy—she considered our nights together a mere "complimentary clause" in our business contract. Even the loving, home-cooked French dinners I cherished were exposed through her mind to be microwaved Michelin-star takeout.
For three years, I had prided myself on being a dominant, attentive husband, yet I was played for an absolute fool. How could she fake every single tear, every single touch, with such terrifying perfection while viewing me as nothing more than an ATM?
Looking at her cowering on my penthouse floor, clutching an anniversary Birkin bag she secretly planned to sell for a Porsche, a dark rush of power blinded me.
I wasn't just going to let her walk away with my millions anymore; I was going to use my new ability to rip off her mask and utterly destroy her.
9.8
Erica Murphy had spent three years rotting in a freezing prison cell.
She thought she was serving time for a tragic accident, but the truth was much darker. Her husband, Colten, had framed her for his mistress's drunk hit-and-run, stolen her fortune, and left her to take the fall.
The day Erica was finally released, a speeding car intentionally slammed into her, shattering her spine. As she lay dying on the emergency room table, flatlining on the monitor, Colten and his pregnant mistress didn't come to save her. Instead, they tossed a stack of divorce papers onto her bloody hospital blanket. They wanted her to sign away her last remaining shares and take on thirty million dollars of toxic corporate debt.
"Sign it," Colten demanded coldly, looking at her crushed body with utter disgust. "Consider this the last bit of dignity I'm giving you."
The original Erica died right there, suffocating in despair and betrayal, unable to understand how the man she loved could be so monstrous.
But when the flatline on the monitor suddenly spiked and her eyes snapped open, the traumatized victim was gone.
Replaced by the cold, calculating consciousness of a future special ops commander. With microscopic nanobots rapidly fusing her shattered bones together, Erica picked up the pen, preparing to burn Colten's entire empire to ashes.
7.6
Elliana Lewis lay dying on the freezing concrete of a federal penitentiary, her ribs shattered by a guard's heavy boot.
She had been flawlessly framed for murder by the one person she trusted with her life: her sweet, innocent stepsister, Jovita.
During her final prison visit, Jovita wore their mother's diamonds and smiled cruelly behind the glass. She revealed she had liquidated the family company, caused their father's stroke, and paid the guards to ensure Elliana suffered a grueling, agonizing death.
"Your marriage was a joke from day one, Ellie. You have nothing left."
As her lungs stopped, the tragic truth finally dawned on Elliana. She had spent months screaming for a divorce and publicly humiliating her billionaire husband, Damon Stirling, believing his silence was weakness. She didn't realize until it was too late that his endless tolerance was the deepest form of protection. She had pushed away the only man who would have burned the world down to keep her safe.
Why had she been so incredibly stupid? Why did she blindly trust a monster and destroy the only person who truly loved her?
Then, a blinding light pierced her retinas. Elliana bolted upright, gasping for air on a massive, king-sized bed.
There was no pain. No broken bones. The digital clock on the nightstand flashed a date from exactly ten years ago.
It was the morning after her disastrous wedding night.
This time, she would tear Jovita's life apart piece by piece. And she would hold onto Damon so tightly that nothing could ever pry them apart.
7.8
For five years, I was the flawless wife to the heir of the De Luca empire, securing billion-dollar acquisitions to prove my worth.
But my husband, Alessandro, still paraded his mistress in our home, publicly humiliating me as a "cold spreadsheet" while she sneered in triumph.
It didn't stop at infidelity. When I dared to cut off her credit cards, Alessandro decided to teach me a lesson.
He allowed his mistress to secretly file down the metal clasp on my horse's saddle right before a massive public equestrian event.
My leg was completely shattered in a horrific, agonizing fall in front of hundreds of elite guests.
While I lay bleeding in the dirt, my husband didn't even glance my way. Instead, he rushed to hold his mistress, shielding her eyes from the gruesome sight.
Later, pretending to be unconscious in the infirmary, I overheard him ordering his guards.
"Get rid of the saddle. It was just a lesson to remind her who's in charge."
He didn't just want me humiliated; he wanted me crippled and broken.
As the sterile smell of the hospital hit me, a horrifying realization set in—I was two weeks late. I was pregnant with his child.
The thought of my baby growing up in this ruthless, toxic family made my blood run cold, and the last spark of my love turned into absolute hatred.
The obedient wife died on that dirt track.
I quietly contacted his family's biggest rival and activated my secret scorched-earth protocol. It was time to burn his empire to the ground.
8.9
Harlow had endured three years of a loveless marriage, funding her husband Beck's life and secretly writing the AI code that saved his failing company.
But when she walked into her family's private memorial library, she found Beck having sex with his mistress, Fallon, right on top of her late father's antique desk.
Instead of showing guilt, Beck proudly announced that Fallon had given him a son and heir.
He demanded Harlow accept the bastard child and stay married just to maintain his perfect public image.
To make matters worse, Fallon was actually a corporate spy from a rival company, actively stealing Harlow's family legacy while Beck willingly handed over the company secrets.
When Harlow demanded an immediate divorce, Beck laughed in her face.
"I will never sign the divorce papers! I will drag this out in court until you bleed dry!"
Looking at her father's crushed pocket watch and the two parasites desecrating her sacred home, Harlow's shock turned into a freezing, absolute clarity.
How could she have spent three years supporting a selfish hypocrite who would so ruthlessly destroy her parents' legacy?
Harlow calmly packed her bags, threw his bespoke suits in the trash, and walked out the door.
She went straight to Fitzgerald Monroe, the most ruthless billionaire corporate lawyer in New York, ready to use her secret identity to make Beck lose everything.