Chapter 52

Olivia’s POV

The shattered remains of a crystal vase crunched beneath my feet as I walked through the Pearl Room, my hands trembling and my chest heaving. The once-pristine sanctuary now lay in ruins, a reflection of the chaos inside my mind. I wanted to keep screaming, keep ripping and smashing, but there was nothing left in here to destroy.

The drapes hung in limp ribbons, the mattress and pillows reduced to tatters, the bathroom mirror shattered. I’d swung a chair against the walls until the wood splintered and cracked, and used the legs to batter every piece of furniture until they did the same. I’d thrown anything not nailed down, ripped the chair rail off the walls, and broke the porcelain sinks.

But there was still so much rage.

I was out of breakables, out of physical energy, but I was still burning so hot I couldn’t stand it. It was a kind of helpless I didn’t really know how to tackle.

I fumbled for my phone, my vision blurring as I dialed Jordan's number. "I need... I need a mattress," I croaked, my voice hoarse from screaming. "Something small. For my office."

Jordan's concerned voice crackled through the speaker. "Luna? What's happened? Are you alright?"

I choked back a sob, unwilling to explain. "Just... please. I can't sleep in here anymore."

“I’m coming, okay? I’m coming to help you and we’ll figure it out.”

So I stayed put, my cracked phone in my lap as I sat on what was left of the nightstand. The floor was covered in glass and splinters, I didn’t want to risk sitting on any. Iris had already seen me once today, I didn’t need to make it two.

Fifteen minutes later Jordan burst through my bedroom door, her eyes widening as she took in the carnage—both of the room and of me. I knew I looked a mess, with drywall in my tangled hair and scratches up my arms from debris I sent flying. The burn in my knees told me I’d scraped them up at some point.

I didn’t have the energy to be ashamed.

“I need to move into my office,” I said blankly. Jordan gingerly picked her way through the wreckage, her lips thinning with a sad sort of determination.

“Let me see your arms,” she said, taking my hands gently. There were bruises forming on my wrists from Astor’s iron-like hold, and she inspected them with a sharp eye.

“Astor,” I explained before she could come to the wrong conclusions. “The rest is from me doing…this.” I gestured to the room at large.

“Have you told Alpha Elroy?” she asked.

I couldn’t help the way my face twisted into something ugly with hate, my wolf whimpering at just hearing his name. “He,” I spat, “was busy getting cozy with Rita.” Jordan’s head jerked up at me as she looked for the lie on my face.

I couldn’t blame her. She didn’t want to believe her pack Alpha could do something so despicable, but the truth was unavoidable.

"Oh, Luna,” she whispered, her gaze darting between my eyes. I sighed.

“Just Olivia,” I said tiredly. “I didn’t call you here as Luna, I called you here as your friend.”

I could see how much that touched the young woman in front of me, and determination settled in her eyes. She clearly decided that she was going to care for me, and I knew that care was exactly what I needed, whether I liked it or not. So I let her guide me to my feet, leading me gently to the door.

“I’ll take care of this, Olivia,” she said, voice soft but firm. “Don’t you worry about a single thing. Let’s get into your office and take measurements for a daybed, alright?”

I nodded, too exhausted to argue or elaborate. As Jordan continued to fuss over me, I closed my eyes, trying to ignore the lingering scent of Elroy's cologne that seemed to cling to my clothes.

Tomorrow, I told myself. Tomorrow, I'd be stronger. Tonight, I'd let the numbness wash over me, a temporary respite from the pain that threatened to consume me whole.

I took a deep breath, willing my racing thoughts to slow as we trudged down the hallway, leaving the mess behind. "Thank you, Jordan," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

Jordan's eyes softened, and she squeezed my hand. "You'd be just fine, but I'm here anyway."

I nodded, forcing myself to stand up straighter. She was right—I would survive this, just like I’d survived everything else, because I had no other choice. My baby needed me; my baby would always need me.

And my baby would always have me. Nothing Elroy or Rita or Astor or the council could do would stop me from making sure of that.

"The Pearl Room," I murmured as we entered my office. "I want it different. New."

Jordan paused in her ministrations, her expression determined. "Consider it done.”

“And use my personal funds,” I said. I’d been banking at an independent bank for years, so I still had my accounts from my Moonshadow days. And I had been an heiress, so those accounts weren’t exactly small.

It would be more than enough, and it would keep the council’s filthy paws off of the renovation. They couldn’t call me wasteful if I wasn’t using pack resources.

What little remained of the day was spent on setting up the office; Jordan and I ordered an IKEA daybed, and since the store was nearby we were able to pay for immediate delivery. We spent hours putting it together, and I knew that Jordan had could have requested the movers build it for us, but I was grateful for the project.

The mattress we ordered would be delivered in a few days, so we inflated an air mattress for the time being and borrowed some linens from the pack storage. The sun was down by then, and I took a quick glance at the clock. Iris said to stick to a more stable schedule, and I figured that meant heading to bed earlier.

As furious as I was, as hurt and exhausted, I wasn’t going to ignore the warnings I’d been given. My child was the most important thing to me, and I was going to keep them safe and healthy.

My gaze fell on the scattered papers across my desk – case files, witness statements, and photographs. The investigation could restart tomorrow; right then, I had to do what was right for my body and baby.

Jordan stayed the night without me having to ask, and her steady breathing lulled me to sleep in no time.

“I might have a potential lead,” Jordan said, depositing my lunch on the edge of the desk with the fewest papers. She hadn’t questioned my need to jump right back into work, but I swore to myself not to throw myself in so deep I worked myself into another attack.

“Really?” I asked, perking up.

Jordan nodded, a glimmer of excitement in her eyes. "It's about the band member's wife. You know, the one who went missing?"

I nodded, hoping she’d continue. “Well, I just heard in the kitchen that she was at all of the shows on the days leading up to her disappearance.”

“She almost never went to shows,” I frowned. Jordan nodded.

“And get this – she kept telling people, especially Omegas, in the audience how much she loved the bass rhythm in one particular song."

My eyebrows shot up. "That's... oddly specific. Did she say why?"

Jordan shook her head. "No, but it struck me as strange. I mean, who focuses on just the bass line like that?"

I bit my lip, considering. "It could be nothing, but..." I trailed off, my mind racing. "Do we have a recording of the song?"

"We do," Jordan confirmed, already reaching for her phone. "But I'm not much for music analysis. I know someone who might be able to help, though, a Beta friend of mine – he's got a great ear for this stuff."

As Jordan made the call, I found myself tapping my fingers nervously on the desk. Could this be the break we needed? Or was I grasping at straws, desperate for any distraction that could keep my mind off of Elroy’s betrayal?

We found out half an hour later, when Jordan’s friend Matthew arrived.

"There's definitely something unusual about that bass line," he muttered, tapping his foot to the rhythm. "The notes follow the expected pattern, but the rhythm is totally random. Let me try to isolate it."

As Matthew worked, I felt a spark of hope ignite in my chest. Maybe, just maybe, we were onto something. And if nothing else, at least for now, I had something to focus on besides the dull ache in my heart.

Suddenly, as Matthew tapped out the isolated bass rhythm, something clicked in my mind. The pattern seemed familiar, yet I couldn't quite place it. I leaned forward, my breath catching in my throat as I listened intently.

"Wait!" I gasped, jerking up so quickly I startled both of the others. "Tap that out again?"

Matthew obliged, his fingers drumming steadily on the desk. As he repeated the rhythm, a smile broke across my face, the pieces falling into place.

"That, ladies and gentlemen," I announced, my voice trembling with excitement, "is Morse Code!"