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THE LYCAN'S GOLD DIGGER WIFE  Novel Cover

THE LYCAN'S GOLD DIGGER WIFE

Zella died betrayed. Her love was stolen. Her wedding ripped from her hands. Her family watched her fall-and did nothing. When death came, it should have been the end. Instead, she met a god who ruled crossroads and cruel choices. Arakon offered her three paths. She rejected them all... or so she thought. By a single misunderstood gesture, Zella was reborn as Lacy Jules-into a poor, struggling life with no power, no status, and no memory of the woman she once was. But fate is never finished with the unjustly broken. As Lacy grows, she begins to dream of torn wedding dresses, familiar faces, and a woman's grief that does not belong to her. Zella is awakening. When the truth finally surfaces, Lacy learns she is living the life of a woman who chose wrong-and a god who refuses to fix his mistake. This time, the choice must be spoken. This time, there will be no confusion. Given one final chance, Lacy chooses to return. Fifteen years into the past. Back into Zella's body. Back to the day everything began to rot. But she does not return as the naïve girl who once begged to be loved. She returns with two lifetimes of pain, clarity, and resolve. This time, she will not fight with claws or magic-but with foresight, strategy, and consequences so devastating that even fate will hesitate. They broke her once. Now, they will kneel- or burn.
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Chapter 2

Lacy's POV

I cross my legs and push my chest out so he can see my cleavage.

I know I have a big front, and it helps in attracting men. I am once again successful as I smirk at him staring.

Men are just so predictable.

"See something you like?" I purr.

I blink slowly; toss my hair to the side. My shoulder is exposed for him to see.

His blue eyes move up to meet mine for just a second.

The gentleman starts to chuckle- deep, low.

The laughter takes me off guard- my heart skips a beat.

"I see many things I like," he says. "But the question is, are they worth the trouble?"

I let out a soft, breathy laugh, giving him the sweet girl act, the one that always works.

"That depends," I say, trailing a finger along the rim of my empty glass. "Do I look like trouble to you?"

He leans back, studying me, his smirk growing. "You look like the kind of trouble a man doesn't mind losing sleep over."

I laugh again, this time with a little more ease. He's good. I'll give him that. He smells of confidence, not too eager. I like that.

The game is fun when they know how to play.

The conversation goes on for a while. We keep exchanging teasing remarks, playful smirks, and silent chuckles.

He says something that catches me off guard from my false display and I find myself genuinely laughing.

It has been a while since that happened.

But then something changes.

His bearing completely shifts out of the blue.

The warmth in his small smile disappears.

His stare freezes over.

I don't like it.

I feel like he's reading me. Like he's analyzing every single word I've spoken.

I stop laughing.

My pulse kicks up, and for the first time tonight, I feel...exposed.

Then, in a voice so casual it nearly knocks the breath out of me, he says,

"Would you be my wife? I'll pay you for it."

I blink.

My mouth parts slightly, but nothing comes out. Did I hear him right? I quickly regain composure and close my hanging mouth.

I put on a careful and unsure smile.

"Excuse me, what?"

"You heard me."

This man leans closer to me, resting those muscular arms on the table.

There's a twinkle in his deep-set eyes as he stares at me.

"Marry me," he says, moving closer, closing the distance between us. "You'll have more money than you'll ever need or even think of in your entire life."

As if he wants to shut my doubts down, he does the unexpected -

He takes out bundles of actual hundred-dollar bills. In a very swift motion, he tucks them right between my breasts.

In the cleavage I tried to seduce him with.

I freeze.

Not because of the money, I've had my fair share of men trying to buy my attention, but because this is different.

There's no sleazy grin, no groping hands, no slurred promises of "taking care of me" in exchange for a night.

This man is serious.

He chugs the rest of his drink, stands up, and adjusts his jacket. "My team will contact you," he says, as if this is just business to him.

He turns to leave but pauses, looking back at me.

"You made a mistake, today," he says. "A common one, but a mistake nonetheless."

I swallow, my throat suddenly dry. "And what's that?"

"You never asked for my name."

Oh shit.

A smirk tugs at the corner of his lips. "Vincent Black. Hope you remember that."

Then he walks away, taking the dark, brooding aura with him.

I sit there, frozen, my mind racing to catch up.

What the hell just happened?

It takes a few moments before I snap back to reality.

Shaking off the shock, I grab the money from my chest and shove it into my tiny purse.

My hands shiver slightly as I stand up. I sigh, ignoring the curious stares around me.

I need to go home.

When I get to my apartment, everything is quiet. I can't hear any noise except for my mother's shaky breaths.

She's lying on our rickety bed that has seen better days. There's a pile of blankets on her too- her body is really giving up.

I sigh, try not to think too much.

I throw my purse to the small table in the middle of our shabby room and drag at my hair. As much as I don't want to think about it- I can't.

Vincent Black.

A proposal.

Money.

Why me?

No. I can't think of all this...

I go up to the bed without pulling off my clothes.

My mind is filled with so many questions and I can't start to answer them. I don't even have the answers for that. Very soon, my eyelids grow heavy, and before I know it, I fall asleep.

*

BANG!

The loud crash wakes me up.

I stand up, my heart hammering in my chest as I turn to find my mother on the floor, her weak body, trembling.

"Mom!" I scream, rushing to her side. I try to lift her, but she weakly shoves me away.

"You..." Her voice is strained, but the anger in it is evident. She shoves a stash of money into my face. "Where did you get this?"

I stiffen.

Shit.

"I... Mom, I didn't-"

"You sold yourself again, didn't you?" she spits, her eyes filled with disgust. "You're just like your father. Useless. Filthy. Whoring yourself out for scraps!"

My throat tightens, "It's not like that," I say, my voice shaking. "I just had a conversation-"

"Liar!" She shoves me again, her frail hands surprisingly strong. "Get out of my sight!"

I clench my fists, biting back the hurt. There's no point arguing.

A loud knock echoes through the apartment.

I freeze.

My mother glares at me. "It's probably the landlord," she hisses. "Go deal with it."

I push to my feet, quickly fixing my hair before cracking the door open slightly.

Multiple men in suits stand outside.

My stomach drops.

I am met with a man clad in a black suit just like the rest, but bald with dark shades covering his eyes, who steps forward. "Are you Lacy Jules?"

I swallow hard and force a nervous chuckle. "Uh... yeah, that's me. Listen, if this is about rent, I promise we asked for an extension fee days ago, I'll get it read-"

"I don't know what you're talking about," he interrupts flatly. "I'm here to deliver legal documents from Mr Vincent Black. He requires your signature immediately."

I stare at him, my mind struggling to process his words. "What?"

He hands me the papers.

I skim through them, my eyes catching one thing...

A large sum of money.

Every. Single. Month.

If it were possible, dollar signs would be flashing in my eyes.

"Give me a pen," I say, gripping the document tightly.

The man pulls one out, and I scribble my signature on every page before thrusting the contract back at him.

Screw it.

I slam the door in his face and let out a squeal, jumping up and down.

Rich. I'm going to be rich.

My mother's curious gaze burns into me, but I ignore her.

Another knock.

I yank the door open, this time with irritation. "What now?"

The man in black doesn't flinch. "You need to leave immediately."

I blink. "What?"

"Mr Black doesn't have time to waste. You have one hour to gather your things."

Panic flares. "Wait... my mother. I can't just leave her alone-"

"That's not our concern."

My mother lets out a bitter laugh from behind me. "Go," she spits. "Leave me. That's what you always do."

I grit my teeth, ignoring her, and quickly dial my friend, Trisha. "I need a nurse at my place, fast," I whisper into the line.

Once she agreed, I threw a few belongings into a bag and stepped outside, a slight jump with each step I took as I walked to the black limousine.

The second I settle, something cold presses against my eyes and blocks my vision.

A blindfold.

"What the-"

A napkin covers my nose, suffocating me.

I struggle, but my hands are held down; everything goes dark as I lose consciousness.

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