CHAPTER 27

V

 Beatrice’s POV

Monday mornings were never easy

But this one?

This one was a complete and utter disaster.

I had overslept.

I never oversleep.

Well… apart from some random occasions, but those were rare—so rare that even my own body was betraying me this time.

Yesterday had been a whirlwind. Between taking care of Xander, escorting him to the hotel after his reckless behavior, dealing with his insufferable attitude, and then going home to the triplets—because, apparently, motherhood didn’t care whether I was exhausted or not—I had barely gotten a second to breathe.

I had collapsed onto my bed, telling myself I would just rest my eyes for a minute after the day's stress.

A minute.  But after my eyes was flashed open the next morning, the rays of the sun directly shone on my face .

“Shit!” I bolted upright, my pulse pounding in my ears.

 Oh my goodness, Xander would have begun the meeting. 

The panic hit instantly.

No alarm. No backup plan. Just pure, unfiltered chaos.

My brain went into overdrive as I scrambled to untangle myself from the mess of sheets wrapped around my legs. I tripped—twice—before finally making it to the bathroom, yanking the door open so hard it nearly came off its hinges.

Cold water. Face. Teeth. Hair. Go...Oh, what about the kids?! 

The reflection staring back at me in the mirror was so bad. I was displeased. I look like I got into a fight with exhaustion and lost.

But there was no time to fix it. I splashed my face, brushed my teeth in record time, and did a halfhearted attempt at making my hair look less like an overgrown bird’s nest.

Good enough.

Next: clothes.

I threw open my closet, eyes darting from one hanger to another. Something professional, something not wrinkled—

Oh, who was I kidding?

The kids were still half-asleep as I rushed them through breakfast, barely able to eat anything myself. I didn’t even have time to fix my hair properly—I just tied it into a messy bun, grabbed my bag, and practically dragged them to school. 

By the time I reached the office, I was completely out of breath.

And late.

Really late.

I didn’t even have to check the time to know the meeting had already started.

My heart pounded as I hurried through the hallway, nearly tripping over my own feet.

I reached the large conference doors just in time to hear—

"As you can see, this proposal is not only cost-effective but also aligns with our company’s vision moving forward."

I froze. That… wasn't that the first proposal I had written, didn't be say it wasn't good enough, I had written others five times because of his useless complaints now he dared to use my first proposal? 

I put my ear against the wall again, yes ....That was my proposal.

The first proposal I had written, The one I spent countless sleepless nights perfecting, The one Xander had rejected.

The one he told me to discard because it wasn’t good enough.

I pressed closer to the door, my breath catching as I listened to the presentation.

He was using it.

Every. Single. Word.

As if it had been his idea all along.

As if I hadn’t worked myself to the bone to create it.

As if he hadn’t dismissed it like it was worthless.

A hot wave of fury surged through me, my hands clenching into fists. I felt like punching him right away but all my body still ached, i didn't know what happened, i just felt tears flowing down my cheeks. This thing has been so hard for me. He's more than a power person, he's wicked. Hot tears chokes in my neck, I felt my heart burdened and I ran away from there immediately. 

I had struggled for days to come up with something else—something he would actually approve of.

And yet, after all that stress, all that wasted effort—

He had chosen this one.

My first proposal.

The one I had already given up on.

The meeting ended shortly after.

I didn’t even bother stepping inside.

I didn’t care about the polite conversations, the corporate handshakes, or the meaningless small talk.

There was only one thing I cared about right now.

Xander.

And he was going to answer for this.

I sat down in the office,staring at my table and considered Sarah's idea if relocating, this pain is too much for me to bear.  I started thinking, my head's temperature was literally increasing. I once thought this man would stand by me, though I left, he's not supposed to be themus cruel to his mate. 

I found him in his office, casually pouring himself a drink like he hadn’t just turned my entire morning upside down.

I slammed the door behind me, the sound echoing through the office like a gunshot.

"Are you serious, Xander?"

The words came out before I could stop them, sharp and laced with disbelief. A part of me was shocked that I had actually said them out loud—to him, of all people. But another part? That part was done pretending.

Xander didn’t even flinch.

Calm as ever, he glanced up from his desk, his expression unreadable. "I assume you’re talking about the proposal."

I let out a humorless laugh, crossing my arms over my chest. "Don’t play dumb."

His lips twitched, almost as if he was amused.

That only made my blood boil more.

"You rejected that proposal, Xander," I snapped, my voice trembling with frustration. "You told me it wasn’t good enough. You made me start from scratch—"

"And?" he interrupted smoothly, leaning against the desk with an infuriatingly relaxed posture.

"And now you’re using it?" My nails dug into my palms as I struggled to keep my temper in check. "After all that stress? All those sleepless nights? You put me through hell just to use the same proposal you rejected in the first place?"

Xander took a slow sip from the whiskey glass in his hand, completely unbothered. "I changed my mind."

I gaped at him.

Did he just—

Did he seriously just say that?

"You changed your mind?" My voice was barely above a whisper, but the fury behind it was unmistakable.

"Yes." He set the glass down with a soft clink and met my gaze without a hint of remorse. "I do what I want with my staff’s work."

I exhaled sharply, my whole body rigid with anger.

I had spent weeks on that proposal. I had poured every ounce of my energy into perfecting it. I had stayed up countless nights, doubting myself, thinking I wasn’t good enough—because he had made me believe that.

And now, just like that, he was using it.

Like nothing had ever happened.

Like my suffering meant nothing.

"You son of a—" I stopped myself, biting down on my tongue so hard I tasted blood.

Xander arched an eyebrow, clearly entertained.

"Oh? Now you’re thinking before you speak?"

Something inside me snapped.

"So that’s it?" My voice rose, fueled by the fire burning inside me. "That’s the kind of boss you are? The kind who plays games with people’s hard work just because he can?"

His gaze darkened, the amusement vanishing in an instant.

"Watch your tone, Beatrice." His voice was calm, but there was an edge to it now—a warning.

"Or what?" I took a step forward, refusing to back down. "You’ll fire me?"

I saw the flicker of irritation in his expression. Good.

I shook my head, a bitter smile curling on my lips. "Go ahead, Xander. But at least have the decency to admit what you did was wrong."

Silence.

Thick. Heavy. Charged.

His jaw clenched, the muscle in his cheek ticking. His fingers tightened around the edge of his desk.

For a moment, I thought he might actually say something—something real, something honest.

But instead, his voice came out cold, devoid of anything remotely human.

"I don’t owe you anything, Beatrice."

The words hit like a slap.

"I make the decisions here," he continued, his tone quiet but lethal. "If I decide to use a proposal, I use it. If I discard it, I discard it. And if I change my mind, I don’t need your permission."

My breath came out shaky.

I had always known Xander Thane was ruthless. I had seen him cut down people with a single word, destroy careers without blinking. Of course, he was the powerful Lycan king.

But this?

This was something else.

I let out a slow, unsteady exhale, my fingers trembling at my sides.

"You know what?" My voice was quieter now, but every syllable was laced with a raw, biting intensity. "You’re right. You don’t owe me anything."

His eyes narrowed slightly.

I turned on my heel, heading straight for the door.

One step.

Two.

Three—

"Beatrice."

froze.

His voice had changed.

It wasn’t sharp. It wasn’t mocking.

It was… something else.

Something almost vulnerable.

I squeezed my eyes shut, willing myself not to turn around.

Because if I did…

If I looked at him now…