Chapter 16

It all hit me at once—the cold shoulder, the smug looks, Adam's distance. The way Jenny had turned everything inside out without blinking. I was still standing there, frozen just past the doorway, when the last piece clicked into place.

And then, just before I turned away, I saw it: a bra, red and expensive-looking, slung carelessly over the arm of the chair. The same kind I'd seen before. Not mine.

Of course. Of course she’d do this.

My chest burned. I didn’t cry, I didn’t move. I just pulled out my phone, found her name, and hit call.

From behind the bedroom door, a ringtone went off.

"Seriously?" Adam's voice, annoyed. "You’re gonna check that right now?"

Jenny’s reply was airy and amused. "It’s your mate. Want to answer it yourself?"

I could hear the smirk in her voice.

Adam gave a dry laugh. "'Mate'? Come on. That was over ages ago. You know I only want you now, baby."

Then, a pause. A breathy sound. A bed creaking.

"Focus on me," Jenny murmured, her voice thick with fake sweetness. "She’s probably off journaling or sulking or whatever it is she does when she’s not hovering. You like this better, don’t you?" She let out a practiced laugh. "I mean—just look at me. There’s no comparison. I don’t have to chase anyone. I don’t act shocked when someone actually wants me."

Adam gave a short, breathless laugh. "Oh god, yeah. You’re so fucking hot, baby. So much hotter than her. It's not even close."

A giggle. Sheets rustling again. A low hum that made my skin crawl.

That was enough.

I hit record, shoved the door open, and stepped into the room.

Clothes were everywhere: her blouse on the floor, his jeans tossed carelessly onto a chair. The bedsheets were twisted, half-kicked off. Jenny was straddling Adam, her body draped over his, still moving, her rhythm slow and confident.

"You’re so into this," she purred into his ear, exaggerated and breathy. "You love how I feel, don’t you?"

Adam groaned, low and eager. "God, yes. You’re so fucking hot."

Jenny gave a theatrical moan. This was all a performance to her. "Mmm, say it again. Louder. I want the neighbors to know."

"You’re hot as fuck," Adam muttered, hands gripping her tighter. "You feel so good, baby."

A high-pitched laugh, the creak of the bed. The show kept going.

That was enough.

Jenny twisted toward the door mid-movement, her face blanching. Adam’s grip loosened instantly, like he’d been electrocuted.

"Smile," I said, my voice flat.

Jenny scrambled away from him like she’d been doused in cold water, grabbing the nearest sheet and wrapping it around her chest. Adam sat up too fast and nearly knocked over the bedside lamp.

"Amelia, I—"

"No. Don’t. Don’t you dare say a word."

"We didn’t mean for it to happen like this," Adam tried, his voice cracking.

"Oh, so you meant for it to happen differently? Maybe when I was out of town? Or would a text have made it more civilized?"

Jenny pulled the sheet tighter around herself and rolled her eyes. "You’re being so dramatic."

"You planned this," I spat. "And this isn’t the first time, is it? The bra, the lies—you’ve been sneaking around for a while. You wanted me to walk in on it. You wanted to break me. And you call that friendship? Do you even want me as a friend anymore?"

"I wanted you to wake up. To realize you were never really part of this world."

"You said we were friends. You dragged me to your birthday weekend, you made me sit through that dinner with your ex just to make him jealous, you made me serve drinks at your mate ball. Was that all fake too?"

She didn’t answer.

I took a step closer, my fists clenched at my sides. "You used me. You made me feel like I finally had someone who saw me. But all you saw was a toy. A sidekick. Something less."

Jenny’s voice was ice. "You really want to talk about loyalty? What about the night I stayed up with you crying about not getting your wolf? When you begged me not to tell anyone because you were afraid you’d lose your spot at the Academy?"

"I never forgot that," I said. "But you clearly forgot everything I ever did for you."

"Because you made it about you. Everything with you turns into some long, emotional monologue."

"You said you believed in me. That we would always be best friends. I thought you meant it."

"I did—until it got annoying," she snapped. "You never gave anything back. I brought you into this world. And every time something good happened to you, it was because I made it happen."

"That's not true," I said, breath shaking. "I worked my ass off. You were off charming every stuck-up heir who’d listen, and I was in the back room rewriting your speech line by line because you couldn’t get through three sentences without sounding fake. I cleaned it up. I made it work. And you didn’t even say thank you."

"So what? You were good at being convenient. That doesn’t make you indispensable."

"You told me I was your favorite person. Was that a lie too?"

"I don’t know, Amelia," she said, voice hard. "Was it a lie when you stayed with Adam when it was obvious there was nothing left between you? You’re no saint."

"I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought he still cared."

"He did. But then he saw me. And now he knows better." she spat back

Jenny grabbed her phone, her eyes never leaving mine. Something twisted behind her expression—rage, desperation, pride. "You want to act like you're the victim here? Fine. Let’s see how long that lasts."

She took a breath, her voice sharp with entitlement. "You only have what you have because of me," she said flatly. "Your job, your place in this world, even Adam—none of it would’ve happened without me letting you into this world."

Then she spoke sharply into the phone. "Dad? I want you to fire Amelia."

Her grip was tight around the device, like she was willing the outcome into existence.

She paused, listening. Her expression began to flicker.

"What do you mean, no? She causes problems every time she’s around. Why does she still work for you? I thought this was supposed to be my space—my family."

Another beat. Her jaw clenched. She shoved the phone toward me. "Here. Don’t screw this up."

I held it to my ear.

"Amelia?" Richard’s voice was calm—almost too calm—but there was an edge I hadn’t expected. "What did Jenny do this time? Are you okay?"

I froze. I don’t know what I’d expected—defensiveness, dismissal, maybe him brushing me off like I was a nuisance—but not this. Not concern. Not that shift in his tone that said he knew Jenny was at fault.

It took me a second too long to answer.

I blinked hard. "I’m okay. Just... an argument. It’s handled."

"Let me know if you need anything."

"Thanks."

I handed it back to Jenny.

"We’re done," I said. "You and me. Friendship doesn’t survive this."

Jenny sneered. "You better watch your mouth. I have a thousand ways to bury you."

"Then dig fast. I’m not the one going under."

I walked for hours after that. I didn't feel like calling a cab. It was dark by the time I reached my apartment. My legs ached, my throat was raw, and my thoughts kept spiraling. Not just about them—but about me. Who I’d let myself become to stay close to people like that.

When I finally stepped inside, the air was quiet and still. My apartment was small but open, with warm light from the floor lamp spilling over the faded rug, and a stack of unread books leaning against the wall like lazy friends. The kitchen counter was cluttered with mail and takeout boxes, but it felt lived in—like mine.

Then I saw the box.

Small, neat and wrapped in a black ribbon.

I knelt to pick it up and opened it slowly.

Inside was a locket—polished, delicate, heavy with meaning. Tucked beneath it, a note in Richard’s handwriting:

A gift to apologize, and thank you for your patience with Jenny. —Richard

I sat on the couch and held it in my palm. The old one had been a comfort. This one was something else. An offering. A symbol.

I didn’t cry, but I could feel the pressure building.

This time, I wasn’t anyone’s afterthought.

This time, I was in control.