Chapter 158

Emily

The quiet of our home feels almost surreal. Logan and I sit on the living room couch, Peter resting peacefully on a soft mat on the floor, his tiny chest rising and falling with the rhythm of sleep. The faint hum of the heater, the soft light spilling from the lamp, and the muted tick of the clock make the moment feel almost sacred.

For the first time in weeks, the chaos of the hospital, the press, and the weight of leadership has melted away, leaving just us, our son, and the fragile sense of normalcy we’ve been craving.

I glance down at Peter, and my chest swells with a mixture of awe and tenderness. He looks so small, so perfect, so impossibly vulnerable. His little fists curl and unclench, and I reach out instinctively, brushing a lock of hair from his forehead. I can’t help the shiver of love that runs through me, the absolute certainty that this tiny life is everything.

Tony enters the room quietly, but his presence commands attention anyway. Even in casual moments, he carries the weight of duty and competence that has always defined him and the life he leads as a Beta. He stops in front of the couch, hands clasped behind his back, and regards me with a seriousness that makes my pulse quicken.

“Emily,” he begins, his voice calm but firm, “your lead was correct. Your family’s pack has been embezzling funds ever since your mother passed.”

My stomach tightens. The words are factual, clinical, almost sterile, but I feel a jolt of vindication mixed with lingering unease. All those nights of uncertainty, suspicion, and quiet fear — they weren’t imagined. They were real. Now, with Tony confirming it, I feel a surge of power mingled with a strange, bittersweet sadness.

“The police have secured the proper warrants for their arrest. Since your father just got out of jail, the authorities are acting swiftly,” Tony continues.

I stare at him for a long moment, trying to process the cascade of information. Every detail feels sharp, slicing through old wounds, but also illuminating paths I never dared to hope for. Logan’s hand finds mine on the couch, and I grip it instinctively, letting the warmth of his presence anchor me.

We exchange a glance, silent but loaded with understanding. This is justice. Not the kind that comes quietly or without consequence, but the kind that pierces through lies and greed. I can feel the tension in Logan’s jaw, the weight of responsibility in his eyes, but there’s also a glimmer of pride there. Not just for the victory he’s won in the political arena, but for the ability to do what is right.

“Handle it,” Logan says quietly, turning to Tony. “Make it public. My first act as Alpha King is to protect the packs from evil people like them. Protect the innocent from people who think power gives them the right to steal, lie, and hurt.”

“Understood,” he says. Tony nods sharply, his expression tight but respectful. “It will be done.”

“Thank you,” I exhale, feeling the tension in my shoulders ease slightly. I turn to Logan, eyes softening. “I couldn’t have done it without you. I wouldn’t have known where to start.”

“You did it,” he replies softly. Logan brushes a strand of hair from my face, his fingers lingering on my cheek. “You were brave enough to face it, Emily. I’m just here to make sure the rest of the world sees the truth the way you do.”

I lean my head against his shoulder, letting the warmth of his presence envelop me. Peter stirs slightly, stretching his tiny arms, and I watch him with quiet amazement. The idea that we can protect him, that we can ensure he grows up in a world where deceit is punished and justice is served, fills me with hope.

An hour passes in a blur of quiet anticipation. Logan and Tony move between brief phone calls and updates, their voices low but urgent. Peter dozes contentedly, unaware of the events unfolding around him, a small island of innocence amidst the storm of justice and power.

Finally, the television flickers on, and we catch the news broadcast. My father and stepmother are being led into police vehicles, handcuffed, their faces a mixture of shock, rage, and defeat. The anchors detail the charges: embezzlement, fraud, and conspiracy to manipulate the pack’s funds.

I feel a strange, complicated mix of emotions — a flush of relief, a stab of sadness for the family I once knew, and a pulse of satisfaction that justice has been done.

I glance at Logan, who watches intently, jaw tight, hands clasped together. His eyes flicker to mine for a brief moment, and there’s a wordless understanding in that glance. This isn’t just about vindication: it’s about protecting the packs, the innocent, and the fragile order we’ve worked so hard to maintain.

“It’s out there,” Tony grins slightly, a rare and brief display of personal satisfaction. “The arrests have been made public. It’s official.”

“Thank you,” I nod, feeling the last pieces of tension drain from me. I turn my gaze to Logan. “I don’t know what I would have done without you. You’ve always been there for me, and now, with this, I can finally feel free.”

“You’ve always been stronger than you realize,” Logan brushes my hair back again, kissing the top of my forehead softly, “I just make sure the world sees it.”

I smile faintly, letting my heart expand with gratitude, pride, and a quiet, aching relief. Peter stretches again, tiny hands curling, eyes blinking open slowly. I scoop him up gently, holding him close to my chest, and feel a surge of pure love wash over me. The warmth of his body, the softness of his skin, and the fragile rhythm of his breathing remind me that this is what truly matters.

Still, there’s a small ache in my chest. I am happy, yes, but part of me remains conflicted. The sight of my father and stepmother being taken away is a relief, but it also reopens old wounds.

I remember the little girl I once was, powerless and afraid, and the anger and betrayal that lingered for years. I know it’s over now, legally and practically, but the emotions — the memories and fears I felt as a child — still flicker quietly like shadows at the edge of my mind.

Logan seems to sense my conflict, his hand brushing mine as he speaks softly. His touch pulls me from my thoughts.

“It’s okay to feel conflicted,” he says. “You’re allowed to feel everything at once…relief, anger, happiness. It’s normal. It’s human. But look at him,” he gestures to Peter, “this is what matters. He’s safe. We’re safe. And justice has been served.”

I nod, letting his words settle into me, grounding me, giving me perspective. I cradle Peter in my arms, letting his tiny body settle against mine.

“You’re right,” I whisper, more to myself than anyone else. “This is what matters. Protecting him, protecting us, and finally…being free.”

Tony chuckles softly from the corner, still watching the news coverage with a professional but satisfied expression. It catches our attention, turning to look at the Beta.

“Looks like your instincts were spot on,” he says, glancing at me. “You’ve got a keen sense for justice, Emily. I think you might give Logan a run for his money someday.”

I laugh quietly, the sound soft in the room, and glance at Logan, who raises an eyebrow, smirking faintly.

“I’ll hold him to that,” I say, the warmth in my chest spreading.

Even amidst lingering conflict, even with shadows of the past still present, I feel a quiet certainty: we are moving forward. Together. And this time, nothing can hold us back.

The room grows quieter again, the television’s glow casting soft light over our small living room, Peter curled against me, Logan’s hand resting gently on mine. I watch them both, and despite the complexities and scars, a profound sense of hope settles into me. This is our life. Our family. Our victory. And for the first time in a long while, I allow myself to simply feel happy.