Chapter 15

Lauren's POV

I didn’t want to hear another word from him. Not from Alexander. Not now. His voice, his lies—everything about him suffocated me.

Without thinking, I shoved past him, my heart pounding like a trapped bird. The past had already taken too much from me, and I wasn’t about to let him drag me back into that darkness. Not again.

I stormed out, my breaths shallow as I pushed through the crowd. The world blurred around me—faces, lights, voices—a chaotic swirl I couldn’t escape. But then I heard them. Those heavy, deliberate steps behind me.

Alexander wasn’t done.

His hand brushed my arm, his voice cold and commanding. “Lauren—”

I stumbled forward, colliding into something solid. Liam. He steadied me, his grip firm.

“Let’s go,” he said sharply, his voice a lifeline in the chaos.

I glanced back at Alexander. His gaze burned, stormy and unrelenting, locking on mine like a predator tracking prey. My stomach twisted.

Liam’s voice cut through the tension. “My fiancée isn’t feeling well,” he said coolly, his tone like steel. “We’re leaving. Apologies.”

For a moment, Alexander faltered, his anger rising like a brewing storm. But Liam didn’t falter his heavy gaze. With his hand on my arm, we turned and walked away.

The car ride home was suffocating. Silence wrapped around me like a vice as my thoughts spiraled—anger, fear, grief tangling in my chest. Alexander’s face wouldn’t leave my mind, his words replaying in a cruel loop.

Then my phone buzzed. Miles. One of Alexander’s Beta’s.

Reluctantly, I answered. “Hello?”

“Alpha is offering a price for your hospital shares beyond anything you could imagine,” Miles said, careful and measured.

“No,” I replied instantly, my voice sharp. The hospital was my life, my purpose. I wouldn’t let him take that from me.

Miles hesitated. “Maybe you should talk to Alexander directly. There could be a way to make this work.”

“Work?” I bit out, my voice bitter. Alexander doesn’t care about me. He never has.

Miles’s tone softened, sensing my heat. “He’s always cared, Lauren.”

I laughed, sharp and cold. “I’m not Lauren. You are mistaken. Tell him I’ll meet with him—to end this.”

I hung up, my breath uneven as Liam cast me a wary glance. But he didn’t say anything.

The hospital was all that mattered. Losing it wasn’t an option. It wasn’t just my life’s work—it was my anchor. I couldn’t let Alexander take that from me.

No matter how much it hurt to face him, I knew what I had to do.

I had to confront Alexander.

I hadn’t slept.

Alexander’s company building loomed like a supervillain’s lair—dark, towering, and unforgiving. Its tinted windows reflected the gray sky, the intricate carvings exuding power and menace. But as I stepped through the revolving doors, they felt more like the gates to hell.

Inside, the air was electric, crackling with tension. Heads turned. Conversations stopped. The employees froze mid-motion, their wide-eyed stares cutting through the silence like a knife.

“Luna Lauren?” The receptionist’s voice trembled with disbelief, her expression caught between awe and shock.

I stiffened but kept my voice steady. “Excuse me.” My tone was clipped, calm—a shield against the storm brewing inside me. “I’m Ava, Owen’s doctor. I need to speak with Alpha Alexander about the hospital.”

Her eyes narrowed slightly, scanning me as if searching for cracks. After a pause, she nodded and motioned for me to follow.

I didn’t care about the whispers or the weight of their stares. Let them wonder. I had only one goal.

When I finally reached his office, the heavy wooden door swung open to reveal Alexander, waiting. His dark, chiseled frame was framed by the sunlight streaming in from the wall of windows behind him, casting an almost ethereal glow around his broad shoulders.

He didn’t look up at first, his pen gliding over paper with a precision that matched the sharp angles of his face. But then, as if sensing my presence, he paused mid-stroke.

Slowly, his cold, piercing gaze lifted to meet mine. His dark eyes, nearly black in the dim light, locked onto me with an intensity that made my breath hitch. For a fleeting second, something unspoken flickered in their depths—something softer, something I didn’t dare name.

I didn’t let it shake me. The door closed behind me, leaving us alone in a room that felt swallowing, the dust particles speckling the light like stars in the air.

Chin high, I strode into the room, the clack of my heels the only sound against the polished floor. My grip tightened on the papers in my hand, the tension in my chest coiling tighter with every step.

“Alexander.”

“Lauren.” He tipped his head, “So, you’re willing to talk now? Did you get Liam’s permission t come here or?”

“Enough,” my voice hardened, slapping the papers onto his desk to his brooding smirk. “What exactly do you want from me?” I demanded, planting my hands to his massive desk.

He leaned back in his chair, his expression unreadable. The sharp line of his jaw clenched slightly, and for a brief moment, I couldn’t tear my gaze away from the way the light played across his features—the curve of his cheekbone, the shadow along his jawline, the tousle of his dark hair that somehow looked effortlessly perfect. I hated him.

“I’ve made my intentions clear from the start,” he said, his deep voice as smooth as velvet but undercut with an edge of steel. “I want you to stay. I want you to be Owen’s doctor.”

My anger flared, heating my skin. “I, we’ve, told you, that’s impossible,” I snapped, my knuckles turning white against the wood.

He snorted conceded, then reached into a drawer and pulled out a crisp document, placing it deliberately on the desk between us.

“Take a look,” he said, his tone infuriatingly calm. “Then you can make your decision.”

I hesitated. My hands trembled, betraying the storm raging inside me, his gaze boring in mine. After a long moment, I snatched the paper from the desk and unfolded it, forcing my eyes to scan the words.

It was a proposal. A detailed partnership for children like Owen—children with autism and other illnesses that affected werewolves. And the kicker? I would lead the entire project. With a near unlimited budget.

My stomach twisted painfully.

It was everything I’d ever dreamed of—a chance to expand my work at the hospital, to help more children, to truly make a difference. But coming from him, it felt like a cruel joke.

All this… for what? Was this how far was he willing to go for Sophia and their child? And for me? He’d never even—

I clenched the edge of the document.

Even if I said no, it wouldn’t end here. He would never stop. Alexander was relentless, always calculating, always one step ahead. He would keep coming, circling, until my resolve finally shattered and he could pounce.

I knew this about him. I had no leverage. No way to fight back that wouldn’t cost me everything I held dear.

And if it had to be this way, if he had to be a part of my life again—entwining himself into my world like a thread I couldn’t unravel—then maybe this was the best deal I could get.

I swallowed hard, my eyes flicking back to his. He was watching me intently, his expression unreadable, but there was something simmering beneath the surface—something dangerous, something…familiar.

“I don’t trust you,” I said quietly.

His lips curved into a slow, deliberate smile. “You don’t have to trust me,” he murmured, his voice dipping into a tone that wrapped around me like a velvet snare. “You just have to decide.”

Decide? As if I had a choice.

The silence stretched taut between us, a loaded pause where the air seemed to shift. My hand betrayed me before my heart could catch up, moving on its own. The pen scratched against the paper, my signature jagged and trembling.

When I finally looked up, his smile deepened. He leaned back, exuding a quiet triumph.

“I look forward to working with you, Lauren,” he said. The way he said my name—it was intimate, sharp, and impossible to ignore.

Before I could summon the strength to respond, my phone buzzed in my pocket, breaking the spell. I tore my gaze from his, turning to answer.

“Hello? Daphne?”

“Mommy, when are you coming home?” Abigail’s soft, sweet voice came through the line, her innocence cutting me.

My breath hitched, panic rising unbidden. I hung up, my movements abrupt and clumsy. My chest tightened as I fought the instinct to turn around.

But I could feel it—the weight of his gaze on my back, heavy and probing. The silence behind me was deafening. When I finally gathered the courage to look over my shoulder, his expression had shifted.

His dark brows drew together, his jaw taut as if he were holding something back. “You have a child?” he asked, his voice quieter now, but the edge in it was sharp enough to cut.

I bit my lip hard, holding his gaze even as my heart screamed at me to look away.

“Whose child?” he pressed.

The intensity in his dark eyes pinned me in place, his presence overpowering, suffocating. Every inch of him—his broad shoulders, the way his tailored suit stretched across his chest, the inky waves of his hair falling just so—felt designed to drown me.

But it was the raw, unguarded fire in his eyes that burned through me, unraveling my resolve strand by strand.

“Lauren,” he demanded again, his voice dropping low. “Whose child?”