The Alpha’s Betrayal: Rejected & Reborn

Five years. I poured my soul into the Silver Moon Pack, turning Gavin’s crumbling debts into an empire. I thought the mysterious $15,000 charge on his card was a surprise for our anniversary—maybe the adoption agency fees we’d discussed after my infertility diagnosis. I drove to the hospital, heart fluttering with hope. Instead, I found Gavin kissing Mia, his "ex," over her massive baby bump. "Daddy, is the baby coming?" a toddler tugged at his hand—a boy with Gavin’s eyes. I watched my husband play happy family, realizing his "business trips" were actually building a life I could never give him. When I went to confront him, I expected an apology. But what I got, was a demotion. "Be rational, Melissa," Gavin announced to the cheering crowd, holding Mia’s hand. "You can't provide heirs. Besides, I found out that Mia is my fated mate. This is goddess’ will, we shouldn’t fight it. Oh but don’t worry. Since you’re excellent with numbers, you’ll stay as the pack’s CFO. You handle the bills; she handles the title." What? He wanted me to bankroll his mistress and their children? "I reject you!" I screamed. "SILENCE!" His Alpha command slammed me to the floor, choking the words back. He dragged me out and locked me in the tower, thinking he had trapped his obedient little accountant. He forgot one thing. I sat on the floor, wiping the blood from my lip, and pulled a hidden burner phone from my dress. Gavin thought he owned me because he was Alpha. He forgot that I managed the assets. "You want a business arrangement, Gavin?" I hit send on the transfer order. "I just liquidated the entire pack's treasury. Let’s see how 'Fated' Mia is when you’re bankrupt."

Chapters

Chapter 1

The numbers on my computer screen blurred together as I rubbed my tired eyes. Another late night in my home office, another stack of Silver Moon Pack's quarterly reports demanding my attention. The familiar weight of responsibility settled on my shoulders like a well-worn cloak—managing the pack's finances had become second nature after five years as Luna.

I reached for my coffee mug, now cold, and took a sip of the bitter liquid. The taste matched my mood perfectly. These quarterly reviews were tedious, but necessary. Every expense had to be accounted for, every transaction verified. It was meticulous work that most wolves found mind-numbing, but I'd always found comfort in the precision of numbers. They didn't lie. They didn't manipulate. They simply were.

My fingers moved across the keyboard, cross-referencing corporate card statements with approved expenditures. Most charges were routine—office supplies, business lunches, equipment maintenance. Then my cursor stopped on a line item that made my breath catch.

$15,000. St. Mary's Private Maternity Hospital. VIP delivery room deposit.

I stared at the entry, my heart beginning to race. The charge was dated three weeks ago, processed on Gavin's corporate card. There was no corresponding medical authorization in our pack records, no mention of any pregnant pack member requiring such expensive care.

My hands trembled slightly as I double-checked the transaction details. St. Mary's was the most exclusive maternity hospital in the state, catering to wealthy families who demanded the finest care money could buy. A VIP delivery room deposit meant someone was expecting a baby—soon.

But who?

I leaned back in my leather chair, trying to rationalize what I was seeing. Maybe Gavin was planning a surprise. We'd talked about adoption before, back when the doctors first delivered their devastating diagnosis about my fertility issues. Perhaps he'd found a birth mother and was arranging everything in secret, wanting to surprise me with the child we'd never been able to conceive naturally.

The thought sent a flutter of hope through my chest, quickly followed by a wave of guilt. How could I doubt my mate's intentions? Gavin had been nothing but supportive during my struggles with infertility, holding me through countless nights of tears and self-recrimination.

Or maybe it was for one of our pack members. We had several young families struggling financially, and Gavin was known for his generosity. It wouldn't be the first time he'd quietly covered medical expenses for those in need.

But $15,000? For a pack member?

I pulled up our pack's medical insurance records, searching for any claims related to maternity care. Nothing. No pregnant females registered in our system, no pending births requiring special accommodations.

The rational part of my mind—the part that had built Silver Moon's financial empire through careful attention to detail—demanded answers. As Luna and Chief Financial Officer, I had a responsibility to verify all expenditures, no matter how personal they might seem.

I saved my work and closed the laptop, decision made. Tomorrow, I would drive to St. Mary's Hospital and get to the bottom of this mystery. It was probably nothing—a misunderstanding, a clerical error, or simply Gavin's generous heart at work again.

But as I climbed the stairs to our bedroom, where my mate lay sleeping peacefully, a cold knot of unease settled in my stomach.

***

The next morning arrived gray and drizzling, matching my restless mood. Gavin had left early for a business meeting, kissing my forehead and murmuring something about being late for dinner. I'd smiled and nodded, playing the perfect Luna wife, all while the mysterious hospital charge burned in my thoughts.

I dressed carefully in a navy blazer and slacks—professional but not overly formal. If I was going to make inquiries at the hospital, I needed to look like someone who belonged there.

The drive to St. Mary's took forty minutes through increasingly upscale neighborhoods. The hospital itself was more like a luxury hotel than a medical facility, all glass and marble with manicured gardens surrounding the entrance.

I parked in the visitor's garage, my hands gripping the steering wheel as I gathered my courage. This was probably nothing. A simple explanation would clear everything up, and I'd feel foolish for doubting Gavin's intentions.

The garage was dimly lit, filled with expensive cars that spoke to the hospital's wealthy clientele. I was walking toward the elevator when a familiar laugh stopped me cold.

Gavin's laugh.

I ducked behind a concrete pillar, my heart hammering against my ribs. There, near the hospital entrance, stood my mate. But he wasn't alone.

A woman leaned heavily against his arm, her hand resting protectively over an enormous pregnant belly. Even from a distance, I could see the careful way Gavin supported her, his touch gentle and reverent. The woman's dark hair cascaded over her shoulders, and when she turned slightly, I caught a glimpse of her profile.

Mia.

The name hit me like a physical blow. Mia Thornfield, Gavin's first love from college. The Omega he'd claimed to have lost touch with years ago. The one he'd assured me was "ancient history" when I'd found old photos of them together.

But it was the small figure beside them that truly shattered my world.

A little boy, maybe three years old, with Gavin's distinctive dark hair and strong jawline. The child looked up at Gavin with obvious adoration, his small hand trustingly placed in my mate's larger one.

"Daddy, is the baby coming today?" the boy asked, his voice carrying clearly across the garage.

"Not today, buddy," Gavin replied, his voice warm with affection I rarely heard anymore. "But soon. Very soon."

Mia smiled up at him, her face glowing with the kind of happiness I'd once thought was reserved for me. "Dr. Morrison says everything looks perfect. Our little girl is going to be beautiful."

"Just like her mother," Gavin murmured, pressing a kiss to Mia's temple.

I pressed my back against the concrete pillar, fighting the urge to vomit. This couldn't be happening. This couldn't be real.

But the evidence was right in front of me, walking toward Gavin's black SUV—the same SUV he'd claimed was "in the shop" for the past month.

I watched, frozen in horror, as my mate helped his pregnant mistress into the passenger seat with infinite care. The little boy—his son, clearly his son—climbed into the back, chattering excitedly about baby names and nursery colors.

As they drove away, I remained hidden behind the pillar, my legs too weak to support me properly. Five years of marriage. Five years of believing I was loved, cherished, valued.

Five years of lies.

The $15,000 charge suddenly made perfect sense. Gavin wasn't planning a surprise for me. He wasn't helping a struggling pack member.

He was preparing for the birth of his second child with another woman.

I don't know how long I stood there in that dim garage, watching the empty space where their car had been. When I finally made my way back to my own vehicle, my hands shook so badly I could barely start the engine.

The drive home passed in a blur of tears and rage. By the time I pulled into our driveway, however, a cold determination had settled over me.

I wouldn't confront Gavin. Not yet.

In three days, we would celebrate our fifth wedding anniversary with a formal dinner, followed by the pack's traditional full moon gathering. It would be the perfect opportunity to give my mate one final chance to tell me the truth.

One final chance to prove that our marriage meant something to him.

One final chance before I decided what came next.

Continue to next part

The voices stopped me cold halfway up the stairs. I froze, my hand still on the railing, heart hammering against my ribs. The light from the nursery spilled across the hallway—soft, yellow, peaceful. Too peaceful for what I was hearing. Claire’s voice, hushed but trembling. I had never heard my sister-in-law speak in such a tone. “We can’t keep doing this, Michael. She’ll find out. And if the child grows up and looks like you—” Then Michael, my husband’s—steady, controlled, that same low tone he used in board meetings. “It doesn’t matter. I’ll take care of her if she finds out.” I didn’t breathe. Couldn’t. My sister-in-law. My husband. They were siblings. How could they?

Billionaire Mystery Romance

9.5

Billionaire's Fake Savior: Unmasking The Truth

9.5

I was a disgraced heiress hiding as a dishwasher in a high-end club, scrubbing lipstick off glasses until my fingers went numb. One night, I was forced to deliver a bottle of vintage whiskey to the penthouse, only to find the tech billionaire Kenan Cervantes collapsing from a lethal neural storm. I used my surgeon’s training to save his life, holding him in the dark until his fever finally broke. The next morning, the world I knew shattered. My coworker Tiffany, who hadn't even stepped foot in the room, claimed my identity as the savior. She signed a non-disclosure agreement and walked away with a $200,000 check, while I was accused of stealing the whiskey and had my entire month's wages forfeited as punishment. While Tiffany was flaunting Chanel suits and posting photos from his balcony, I was being shoved into the mud by my abusive foster father in a dark alley. I watched from the shadows as Kenan stepped into his luxury car, looking right through me with nothing but cold distaste. To him, I was just "street trash" cluttering the sidewalk, while the imposter was the "angel" who had stabilized his heart. The injustice felt like a physical weight. I had quieted the noise in his brain and kept him from the brink of death, yet I was the one facing eviction and hunger. I didn't understand how he could be a genius and still be so blind to the truth, rewarding a thief while I rotted in the basement. Everything reached a breaking point when Tiffany forced me to sneak into his penthouse to help her maintain the lie. But Kenan returned from Tokyo early, finding me on the terrace with his military-grade protection dog. The beast that had tried to bite Tiffany was now resting its head in my lap, protecting me from its own master. Kenan dropped his briefcase, his eyes locking onto mine as the fragmented memories of the storm finally clicked into place. "You," he whispered.

Billionaire Modern Mystery

8.5

Divorce & A 20-Year Freeze

8.5

The candles flickered between us, casting dancing shadows across the gleaming mahogany table. Ryan had insisted on dinner at home tonight—a rarity these days. I should have known something was wrong when he ordered from Le Bernardin instead of suggesting we go there in person. Ryan Mitchell never missed an opportunity to be seen at Manhattan's finest establishments. He hadn't touched his Dover sole. Instead, he watched me with those calculating eyes that had once made me feel chosen but now made me feel appraised. Like merchandise. "Sarah," he said, breaking the silence that had stretched between us like a chasm. "We need to talk." I set down my fork with deliberate care, noting how steady my hand was despite the sudden hollowness in my chest. "I'm listening." Ryan reached into his suit jacket—Tom Ford, charcoal gray, his power color for important business deals.

Billionaire Modern Romance

8.0

He Served Divorce Papers at Graduation, I Cut Off His Diamond Supply

8.0

"Sign the papers, Clara, because Chloe is pregnant and deserves a real family." The microphone feedback whines through the university stadium stadium, vibrating right against my ribs. Three thousand graduating students go completely dead silent. The heavy velvet of my valedictorian gown sticks to my sweating back. My husband of three years, Julian, stands right in the middle of the stage. He shoves a manila envelope onto the wooden podium, blocking my notes. I spent the last thirty-six months scrubbing his hardwood floors on my hands and knees. I ironed his custom suits while he built his miserable little jewelry startup. I ate instant ramen so he could afford his first office lease. Now, he turns his back to me, facing the front row of the audience. Chloe, my former roommate, sits there with a smug smile painted across her glossed lips. Julian drops to one knee on the astroturf. He pulls a black velvet box from his tailored jacket pocket. The stadium lights catch the center stone as he snaps the lid open. A chorus of gasps ripples through the crowd of students and parents. It is a two-carat, princess-cut diamond set in platinum. "Chloe, you are my true muse, will you marry me?" his voice echoes over the PA system. My chest tightens, the air suddenly thick with the smell of cheap champagne and ozone. I grip the edges of the podium until the wood splinters bite into my skin. Julian thinks that two-carat stone is the ultimate flex. He bought it from the retail arm of the Vancour Diamond Syndicate. He bragged about spending his entire quarterly bonus on it. What Julian absolutely does not know is the name printed on his vendor contract. I am Clara Vancour. The sole heir to the global Vancour Syndicate. That specific ring he is holding? It is categorized in my family’s catalog as a scrap-tier industrial castoff. I gave up my penthouse, my black cards, and my bodyguard detail to prove I could live an ordinary life with the man I loved. I hid my bloodline to make him feel like a king. A cold, metallic calm washes over the back of my neck. I reach into my pocket and pull out a solid gold Vancour executive pen. I uncap it with a sharp click that reverberates through the microphone. I flip the divorce papers to the last page and drag my signature across the dotted line. No tears, no screaming, just the scratch of the nib tearing into the cheap paper. I step out from behind the podium, the heavy gown dragging across the stage. I walk right up behind Julian’s kneeling form. He looks over his shoulder, annoyance flashing in his narrow eyes. I let the signed divorce decree flutter down, landing perfectly over the open velvet ring box. "Keep the scrap metal," I say, my voice steady. Then, I drop my grandfather's black platinum business card right onto his pristine white shoes. Julian’s eyes dart down to the embossed gold crest on the card. His jaw goes completely slack.

Billionaire Modern Romance

8.8

Hate To Love You My Billionaire Lover

8.8

Arianna’s family was falling apart and facing a tragic demise; however, her heart sank when she clearly saw Travis Cooper’s name on the acquisition papers. She had no choice but to negotiate with him. Arianna lowered her head and relaxed her shoulders to ease the tension. She should show him gratefulness to make him happier, she thought, but she just couldn’t do it. “How would you be willing to leave my grandfather alone?” He casually poured her a cup of tea and placed it in front of her before replying, “I think the correct person to ask is the judge, no? The offenders are usually punished. This is a matter of justice, isn’t it?” Arianna was beginning to grow tired of his mood swings. “He is old, and his body is failing him. He would not last long in prison.” Arianna tried to contain her anger. “What can I do? I always admire devoted children.” His voice carried some ridicule, “But I’m not a charity. I only do transactions with interests. What would you do in exchange for the freedom of your grandfather?” Travis intertwined the fingers of his one hand with the other and rested his hands on his stomach as he leaned back in his chair once more. His expression was a bit lazy, “Since you entered this door, I’ve been waiting for the drama of you selling your body and soul to me in order to save your family member.” When Arianna didn’t reply, Travis explicitly said, “Maybe I’m just bored. I’d like to try something fun.” Arianna’s stomach felt like it had flipped. She looked at the handsome face that was now showing evil.

Billionaire Modern Romance

8.3

He Cheated On Me, So I Became His Aunt!

8.3

Ava couldn't be any happier after realizing the due date for her delivery. Excited and all, she comes back home ready to deliver the good news to her husband, Matt, only to stumble upon him buried deep into the lady whom he claimed was his younger cousin sister. The betrayal hit different after learning the whole truth from them, they intend to make her death look like an accident and take away her inheritance afterwards. They both succeeded in making her fall off the terrace which unfortunately made her lose the pregnancy and her life. Few months later.. The appearance of a wealthy heiress who looks exactly like the late Ava causes a storm in the city after Ryan Manchester, Matt's Uncle, introduces her as his wife. Was it really Ava? or was this all a game carefully crafted?

Billionaire Modern Romance

The Alpha’s Betrayal: Rejected & Reborn

Chapter 1

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