Chapter 7

  ROSANNE'S POV

The last time I saw or heard anything from Mikhail had been over week. The silence was deafening, and I couldn't help but feel a pang of loneliness. Despite the fact that I hated him for ruining my life, I was getting used to his touch, to the way he felt around me very night.

But now, nothing. No summons to his room, no whispered commands, no gentle caresses. It was as if I'd been deleted from his brain.

I couldn't help but wonder what I'd done wrong. Had I displeased him somehow? 

The only silver lining was that Irene had backed off. She no longer taunted me or made stupid comments. We existed in an uneasy truce, each of us minding our own business. 

Anita walked in, and I responded before she could even speak. "I'm coming down for lunch," I said, laughing, feeling a sense of normalcy wash over me.

As we walked downstairs together, I noticed the mansion was filled with unfamiliar workers. I tried to piece together the reason for their presence, but my mind came up blank.

I approached various workers, asking if they knew what was going on, but no one seemed willing to share any information. The only obvious clue was that some sort of event was being planned, but I had no idea what it could be.

Giving up on my inquiry, I decided to focus on lunch instead. After eating, I headed upstairs, initially planning to go shopping later, but suddenly feeling tired, I decided against it.

I had forgotten Anita was still with me until she spoke up. "If you need nothing else, I need to go. Thank you."

    

    She was on her way out about to close the door when I called out, "wait, hold on." She paused, her grip on the door tightening, increasing my curiosity.

"Do you have any idea what the pack might be getting ready for?" I asked, my ears opened for an answer.

Anita avoided my gaze. "Um, no."

I softened my tone, trying to coax the truth out of her. "Annie, please, I have no idea what goes on in the pack. You have to help me out."

Anita's eyes darted to mine, and she whispered, "I'm not supposed to tell."

I got up from the bed, walking closer to her, my voice barely above a whisper. "I know, I'm sorry for asking such, but please help me." 

    She bit her upper lips probably weighing the options before she answered. "We are getting ready for a wedding."

I exhaled the breath I'd been holding, my curiosity higher. "That's great, and who is getting married?" I asked, trying to sound nonchalant as I sat back on my bed.

Anita's expression was unreadable, but her hesitation spoke volumes. I patted the spot beside me, and she sat down, her eyes avoiding mine again.

"So, whose wedding is it?" I pressed, my tone light, but my mind racing with possibilities.

Anita's swallow was audible before she dropped the bombshell. "Irene's... and King Mikhail."

I felt my face pale. "You're joking, right?" I asked, searching her face for any sign of laughter, but all I saw was guilt.

It felt like air had been knocked out of me "He can't marry Irene," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "He married me a month ago."

Anita's gaze didn't leave her hands, her silence a stark contrast to the turmoil blooming inside me

He couldn't marry someone else, not after everything he'd done to me. The memories of our nights together, the way he'd claimed me as his, it all came flooding back.

My anger simmered, threatening to boil over. "He ruined my life, and now he wanted to dump me?" I thought, my mind reeling with the implications. 

I sprinted out of my room, driven by a singular mission: to find Mikhail. Anita's calls faded into the background as I frantically searched the mansion, my bare feet pounding the floor.

But he was nowhere to be found. I took a deep breath, steeling myself for the next step. I ran out of the mansion, racing towards the pack house with a determination that bordered on recklessness.

The 30-minute run left me breathless and aching, but I refused to let the pain slow me down. Tears threatened to spill, but I bit them back, my eyes fixed on the pack house.

Finally, I found Mikhail sitting in his office, his eyes scanning me "There better be a reason you are here looking like a crazy lady" I ignored his comment. I took slow steps in, the aftermath of running barefooted finally taking effect. But i ignored it. "Is it true you're getting married to Irene?" I asked, my voice firm despite the turmoil brewing inside.

Mikhail's gaze met mine, and for a fleeting moment, I saw a glimmer of guilt. But it vanished, replaced by his signature calm.

"Yes," he said, his tone detached. "Do you have an issue?"

I laughed, the sound bitter. "Yes! yes I do. You're married to me, for fuck's sake." My voice remained steady, but my heart was shattering into a million pieces. 

Mikhail's words cut deep, his nonchalant tone a slap in the face. "I didn't marry you, I got a breeder."

Thus could not be happening. I felt used, betrayed. I searched my brain thinking of a way to stop this "You are married to me,...at least on paper," I whispered, my voice trembling. "You can't do this, I deserve respect."

Mikhail's expression remained impassive, his eyes devoid of empathy.  

    

    "Oh, please. We both know the only reason we had a wedding was to satisify your parents"

    

    He handed me a file, his movements mechanical. "You said I married you on paper, now here's the divorce. Please fill it."

I looked at the file, then at him before taking it in shaking hands. I could barely read a word but i got the clear message: our marriage, such as it was, was over. My heart broke, and I couldn't understand why it hurt so much.