2. Divorce

Nina

I step into the penthouse, the familiar cold air brushing against my skin. Everything looks exactly the same—the spotless marble floors, the glass walls that give a perfect view of the city skyline, and the stupidly expensive art Jaxon insisted on collecting. It’s all perfectly in place, like nothing’s changed.

But everything has.

Two weeks. It’s been two weeks since I lost the baby. Two weeks since Jaxon showed up at the hospital, cold as ice, and left me there sobbing. And two weeks since I decided that I’m done. I’m done pretending, done waiting for him to give a damn, done being the good little wife he never actually wanted.

I walk straight to his office, not even bothering to take off my coat. My heels echo loudly on the floor, the only sound in this too-big, too-empty space. I shove the door open and place the divorce papers on his desk with more force than necessary. The loud thud they make is oddly satisfying.

Jaxon’s sitting there, looking up from his laptop, his expression the same bored indifference I’ve seen for the last three years. Like I’m just another thing on his to-do list.

“What’s this?” he asks, leaning back in his chair, not even touching the papers.

“What do you think?” I snap, crossing my arms. “It’s a divorce, Jaxon.”

He raises an eyebrow, his icy blue eyes flicking over the papers before coming back to me. “You can’t be serious.”

“Oh, I’m serious. Dead serious.” I glare at him, daring him to say something stupid.

He sighs, like I’m some child throwing a tantrum. “Nina, we don’t need to do this.”

I blink, completely thrown by his calm, dismissive tone. “We? We don’t need to do anything. I need to get out of this fucking marriage, and you? You just need to sign the damn papers.”

“We’re mates,” he says, like that explains everything. Like that word is supposed to magically erase everything he’s done. “You’re just upset right now. We’ll get through this.”

My blood boils at how casually he says it, how easily he dismisses everything. “You think being mates is enough? After everything?” I laugh, the sound harsh and bitter. “You don’t even treat me like your fucking wife, Jaxon. You’ve never treated me like a mate. I don’t think you even understand what a mate is you damn asshole.”

His jaw clenches, but he stays seated, still looking up at me like he’s in control. “I have responsibilities, Nina. The company, the pack. I can’t just drop everything for you.”

“For me? You haven’t even bothered to show up with me, let alone for me!” My voice rises, the years of frustration pouring out all at once. “I lost our baby two weeks ago, and you—”

“I didn’t know you were pregnant!” he interrupts, finally standing up, his hands gripping the edge of the desk.

“And whose fault is that?” I shoot back. “You’re never here, Jaxon. You’re never fucking here.”

He’s silent, his face hard, but there’s no regret in his eyes. No guilt. Just... nothing.

“I needed you,” I say, my voice softer now, but still sharp. “I needed my husband. I needed my mate. And you left me. Every. Single. Time.”

Jaxon sighs, shaking his head like I’m being unreasonable. “Nina, I have obligations. I can’t just—”

“I don’t give a shit about your obligations!” I cut him off, stepping closer. “I gave you everything. I waited for you. I put up with Scarlett being around like some fucking ghost from the past. And for what? To be ignored? To lose a baby by myself?”

His eyes darken at the mention of Scarlett, and for a second, I think I hit a nerve. But then he shakes it off, like always. Like nothing I say matters.

“This isn’t a good time,” he mutters, turning back to his desk, grabbing a pen like he’s already moved on from this conversation. “I’m in the middle of negotiating with the board. There are important decisions to make right now.”

I stare at him, completely dumbfounded. “Are you... are you fucking kidding me?”

“No, I’m not,” he says without looking at me, signing a document on his desk that has absolutely nothing to do with me, with us. “We can talk about this later. When things settle down.”

I laugh again, but this time, it’s broken. Empty. “There’s nothing to talk about, Jaxon. I’m done.”

“You’re not thinking clearly,” he says, finally looking up at me, his eyes cold. “This marriage isn’t just about us. It’s about the packs, about—”

“Don’t you fucking dare!” I slam my hand on his desk, my anger spilling over. “Don’t you dare talk to me about packs and alliances. This marriage was never about that for me. I married you because I loved you. You. And now, I’m done.”

He says nothing, just stares at me, his face a mask of indifference. It’s like talking to a brick wall, one that couldn’t give less of a shit about the wreckage around it.

I grab the divorce papers, pushing them toward him. “Sign them.”

Before he can respond, the office door swings open, and Lydia Davenport, Jaxon’s mother, strides in like she owns the place. Because of course she’s here. She always fucking is.

“Really, Nina?” Lydia says, her voice sharp, as if I’m some unruly child throwing a tantrum in her perfect little world. “A divorce? You can’t possibly be serious.”

I shoot her a look, my patience already hanging by a thread. “Stay out of this, Lydia.”

She arches an eyebrow, that smug expression on her face I’ve always hated. “This is my family, dear. You think I’m going to sit back while you make a spectacle of yourself?”

“A spectacle?” I scoff, throwing my arms up. “You think this is a spectacle? You think me standing up for myself is some kind of show?”

“I think you’re being dramatic,” she says, crossing her arms, her eyes narrowing on me. “You lost a baby, yes, but that’s no reason to destroy your marriage. There are bigger things at stake.”

My body goes cold, her words sinking in like knives. “Bigger things at stake?” I repeat, my voice low. “I lost my child. Your grandchild. And you think I’m being dramatic?”

She waves a hand, dismissive as always. “These things happen, Nina. But the pack, the company—those are what matter.”

I stare at her, trying to process how someone can be so cruel, so fucking heartless. “You sound just like him.”

Lydia smiles, stepping closer. “Well, he is my son, after all. And frankly, Nina, you were never cut out for this. You were always too weak, too emotional.”

I laugh, the sound bitter and hollow. “Weak? Emotional? You’ve got some fucking nerve, Lydia.”

Her eyes narrow. “I’ve been patient with you. I tolerated your presence in this family because Jaxon married you, but I always knew you weren’t suited for this life. Frankly, I never understood what my brilliant son ever saw in a freaking orphan. You understand nothing about this life. You are not her. Scarlett... Scarlett would have made a much better Luna.”

Scarlett. It always comes back to her. The woman who never left Jaxon’s life, the woman who’s always been hanging over our marriage like a goddamn storm cloud. I should have known she’d come up. Lydia never misses an opportunity to remind me how much better Scarlett is, how much more worthy she is.

“You’re right,” I say, my voice trembling with anger. “Scarlett probably would have been a better Luna for this family. She’s cold and heartless, just like you.”

Lydia’s eyes flash, but she doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t need to. The smug expression on her face says it all.

I turn to Jaxon, who’s just standing there, watching this whole thing play out without saying a word. No defense. No protest. Nothing.

Of course.

“You know what?” I say, my voice shaking. “You two deserve each other. I’m done with this family. I’m done with you.”

I grab the divorce papers off the desk, shoving them into my bag. “You won’t sign them? Fine. I’ll take them to court. I’m sure the press will have a field day with that.”

Jaxon stiffens at the mention of the press, but he still says nothing.

“I’m leaving,” I say, heading for the door, not bothering to look back at either of them. “Don’t call me. Don’t come after me. We’re done.”

“Nina,” Jaxon says finally, his voice calm, like he’s used to getting his way. “You’re overreacting.”

I stop in my tracks, my back to him. “No, Jaxon. I’m not overreacting. I’m finally reacting. To you. To this marriage. To everything.”

I walk out the door, slamming it behind me, not caring if they’re watching, not caring if they’re shocked. They can keep their cold, loveless family. I’m done with it.