Chapter 5
Before I could even shift or slam the door in his face, Alexis barged into my home -dragging Cecilia behind him like some righteous warrior defending his damsel.
“Eloise, what the hell is wrong with you? If you can’t have it, you’ve got to burn it down for everyone else?” he snapped, his voice laced with rage. His veins bulged at his temples, and for a moment, I wondered if he’d shifted halfway just to yell louder.
He hadn’t made a single move to clear the chaos online. Didn’t issue a statement. Didn’t try to handle the bridal boutique’s legal threats. No–he came straight here. Straight to me. Like I was the problem.
I said nothing. Just stood there with my
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arms crossed and my wolf pacing under my skin, restrained but not calm. That silence? It only made him angrier.
“Oh, now you’re quiet?” he sneered. “Feeling guilty, are you? You seriously got the bridal shop to sue us? What kind of Alpha daughter stoops that low?”
Right. Because I was the villain in this twisted fairytale. Stupid me for not changing the door code the second he stopped being my fiancé. Stupid me for not posting guards at every entrance.
Cecilia stayed close to his side, as always, the picture of innocence with her wide eyes and pouty mouth. But her hands told the truth–nails digging into expensive fabric as she flung the wedding dress at me.
That dress. My dress. Custom–made
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Toonlight silk, enchanted by the pack seer
bless my mating bond.
She tossed it like garbage.
There. Didn’t know you were that petty,” she said with a dramatic huff. “Take it back if it means that much. Stop making a scene, or Alexis will never forgive you.”
I didn’t even flinch. Just stepped to the side.
The dress hit the floor with a soft thud. Beads scattered across the hardwood like falling stars. The enchantments shattered with them–useless now.
That gown had cost a million credits, infused with rare lunar thread, blessed under the full moon by a seer who rarely took clients. It couldn’t be repaired. Not after that.
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Cecilia had the audacity to let out a syrupy giggle. “Oops! Eloise, how clumsy of you! What will we do now?”
Alexis reached out to comfort her, stroking her hair like some noble protector. “Cecilia, you’re too sweet for your own good. Don’t waste your time on her. She wanted the dress? Let her pick it up off the floor.”
That broke something in me. I laughed. Cold and sharp, like winter wind through a broken window.
“You two are pathetic,” I said calmly. “You’re not welcome here. Pick up your trash on your way out. And everything you’ve taken from me–return it. If you can’t, you’ll pay.”
A normal person–someone with even a speck of shame–might’ve backed down. But shame didn’t live in these two.
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for
Cecilia blinked up at him. “Alexis, what is she talking about? Didn’t you give me those things?”
His face flushed. Not with guilt–just the embarrassment of being caught. But even now, he chose her. Like always.
“Cecilia, this isn’t about you, he murmured. “Wait outside. I’ll handle it.”
She obeyed with a sugary smile. “Okay, Alexis. I’ll be right out here.”
When she was gone, Alexis turned back to me, the anger simmering again.
“Eloise, why are you being like this? You gave me those things. Willingly. Now you want to play victim? You’ve got no shame.”
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Ahere it was–the signature Alexis Curry Dogaslight–and–go routine.
“Willingly?” I echoed, brows raised. “Tell me, when did you ever ask before taking my things? When did you ever say thank you? You took what you wanted and guilted me into silence.”
“I was your fiancé, Eloise! And Cecilia–she’s like our sister. We were family! What’s yours was ours!”
I blinked at him. He actually believed it.
“You don’t get to rewrite history, Alexis. You abused my trust. And for the record, taking something without permission isn’t sharing. It’s stealing.”
His jaw tightened. “Fine. Fine! You want your stuff back so badly? I’ll give it all back. Who
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wants your secondhand crap anyway?”
He stomped upstairs, shaking the floorboards. A few minutes later, he thundered down with a pile of designer bags, jewelry boxes, and luxury items–all things he’d either bought using my money or snatched from me to give to Cecilia.
He dumped it all at my feet.
“There! Happy now? Go live your perfect little life with your precious things. We’re done!”
He stormed out like he was the injured party in this mess.
I just stood there.
Staring.
Not at the items, but at what was left of
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a man I’d once loved. A man who’d lived under my roof, eaten meals paid for with my money, worn clothes I bought, driven cars registered in my name.
And now he thought this–this pile of broken apologies and bad memories–was closure?
My wolf stirred beneath my skin, unimpressed.
What kind of man lives off a woman for years and then acts like he was the one betrayed?
Alexis Curry. That’s who.
And I was finally done playing nice.
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