Chapter 2
Elsa
I submitted to his order, feeling his scent and heat fill my mouth. He gripped my hair to control the pace, thrusting brutally, nearly choking me.
Each time I tried to pull back for air, he yanked me forward again. I hate you. I fucking hate you. I lost your child today and this is how you treat me?
"Take it deeper," he growled. "You know exactly how to please me."
The handcuffs restricted my resistance, forcing my compliance as tears blurred my vision and saliva dripped down my chin. When his phone rang, I thought I'd finally get a moment's reprieve. Please let me breathe. Just one second to breathe.
"Stay quiet and keep going," he whispered as he answered the video call. I was forced to continue servicing him, my tongue and lips working diligently while his hand remained firmly on the back of my neck. This is beyond humiliation. This is torture.
"Hello, darling. Everything alright?" His tone with Vera was sickeningly gentle, a stark contrast to his brutality with me.
"I miss you, Drake," Vera's sweet voice came through the speaker. "When are you coming home?"
"Soon, baby," he answered, pushing my head deeper, "just finishing some paperwork."
He deliberately tilted the phone to ensure I wouldn't appear in the frame, enjoying the dual pleasure of control—sweet words for Vera, physical domination of me. I'm nothing but a toy to him.
When the car finally stopped at the city's edge, I stumbled out and vomited. My abdomen screamed in pain, but Drake didn't notice or care. The taste of bile mixed with the bitter remnants of him in my mouth.
"Come and take her home," he instructed the driver, already making another call.
As the car pulled away, I stood shivering in the pre-dawn chill, finally accepting the truth: to Drake, I would never be more than a marked possession. And the child I'd lost—our child—would remain my secret burden alone.
I wake up with a splitting headache, the memory of yesterday's hospital visit and Drake's brutal treatment still raw in my mind. My body aches—both from the miscarriage and his rough handling in the car.
Fucking bastard couldn't even give me a day to mourn the child I didn't know we had. But I can't afford to take another day off. In the Black Obsidian pack, showing weakness is like bleeding in shark-infested waters.
My wolf stirs restlessly beneath my skin, whimpering with grief. I press my palm against my abdomen, feeling the emptiness there.
After a quick shower to wash away hospital scents and the lingering smell of Drake, I pull on a crisp black suit—my armor for the day ahead. Breathe, Elsa. Just get through today without falling apart. The elevator ride to Stone Industries' executive floor feels longer than usual, each floor bringing me closer to the man who doesn't know—or care—that he lost a child yesterday.
The moment I step onto the executive floor, I hear raised voices. Kayla Moon, the oldest employee in the assistant department, stands with her back straight as a rod, facing a teary-eyed Vera.
"This is unacceptable!" Kayla says, waving a report. "Your error cost the company over ten million dollars! The Valtor Mining deal nearly fell through because of these numbers!"
Vera's bottom lip trembles. "I-I was just trying to help..."
Oh, for fuck's sake. What has this incompetent little princess done now? My nostrils flare involuntarily, picking up the scent of Vera's fake distress—like artificial sweetener, cloying and wrong. I step between them, taking the report from Kayla's hand. "What happened?"
"She submitted incorrect projection numbers to the Valtor group," Kayla explains, her voice tight with anger. "They almost pulled out of the partnership when they saw the figures."
I scan the report, immediately spotting multiple errors. Amateur mistakes. This isn't just sloppy—it's incompetent. A goddamn fifth-grader could've done better math than this.
"Old Mr. Valtor's birthday celebration is tonight," I say, handing the report back to Kayla. "Drake and I will attend and smooth things over." I turn to Vera, keeping my voice professional despite the churning in my stomach. "According to company policy, whoever makes the error takes responsibility."
Vera's eyes widen in fear, but I turn away. Deal with your own mess for once. I don't have the fucking energy for your crocodile tears today. My wolf wants to snap at her, to put the insubordinate pup in her place, but I force down the growl building in my throat.
An hour later, an email from HR arrives announcing Kayla's termination and the forfeit of her quarterly bonus. What the actual fuck? I stare at my screen in disbelief. Kayla has been with the company for fifteen years. This is complete bullshit.
I'm about to call HR when my phone buzzes with Drake's message: "My office. Now."
Walking into Drake's corner office feels like entering a predator's den. Steady your breathing. Don't let him smell your anger or your grief. He stands by the window, his back to me, while Vera perches on his desk, her eyes red but her smile triumphant when she sees me.
The moment I cross the threshold, my body betrays me. My inner wolf recognizes her mate—my pulse quickens, my skin flushes, and a familiar warmth spreads between my thighs. Traitor, I snarl at my own biology.
"You wanted to see me?" I keep my voice neutral.
Drake turns, his eyes cold. "You were absent yesterday, so Vera kindly completed your report. If you'd been here doing your job, this mistake wouldn't have happened."
The audacity takes my breath away. I was in the fucking hospital losing YOUR child, you heartless prick! I fight to keep my expression blank. "I apologize for my absence," I say, lowering my eyes. "But I don't think firing Kayla is the appropriate response. Vera prepared the report incorrectly. She's just an intern assistant handling multi-million dollar projections. Don't you think that's problematic?"
Drake's eyes flash gold—a warning. The sudden shift from human eyes to wolf makes my knees weak.
"Are you questioning my decisions?" His voice drops to that Alpha timbre that vibrates through my bones.
Yes, because they're fucking stupid. "No, I'm offering a solution. I will correct the mistakes and resubmit a professional risk assessment report to ensure that Mr. Valtor can see our sincerity and professionalism at tonight's banquet. But Kayla shouldn't be punished for something she didn't do."
Drake strokes Vera's hair, his touch gentle in a way it never is with me. "Ok , you solve it and I won't fire Kayla. Vera was trying to help in your absence. I won't have her punished for your failure."
I bite the inside of my cheek until I taste blood. The metallic flavor helps ground me, stops me from letting out the whimper building in my chest. Calm down. Don't let him see how much this hurts. "Yes, Mr. Stone."
"And I won't be attending old Valtor's birthday tonight. You'll go alone and fix this mess."
Great. Clean up princess's mess while he probably fucks her on his desk the minute I leave.