Chapter 7

Ever since my brother left my penthouse, I’ve had an uneasy feeling inside me.

It’s as if I’m being followed.

For instance, when I was on the red carpet with Marcus at the launch of our new lingerie designs, one of the photographers looked oddly familiar.

I could have sworn I’d met him somewhere before—but maybe it was just paranoia.

There’s also always someone—an unknown figure—lurking on our security cameras.

Marcus says I’m overthinking things, but I’m just being careful.

My life is finally starting to take shape, to have real meaning, and I won’t let anything—or anyone—take that away from me.

I can’t afford to lose myself again.

Today is one of the days I take a walk around the block.

It also marks the 10th anniversary of losing my baby boy.

People might call me awful or a bad mother, but a part of me is glad he left this world.

I wouldn’t have hated him—I would have loved him so much. Even though he wasn’t conceived the right way, he was still my son, a part of me. I would have cherished him.

He died in my arms at the hospital the moment he was born.

He was premature, with many complications—weak lungs, jaundice, an acute respiratory disorder.

He wasn’t meant to be.

I buried him by a calm riverside.

Marcus knows about this, and during this time every year, he gives me space.

Today, he’s attending all our meetings and will be home by 3 p.m. I plan to do some grocery shopping and then head back.

You’ll always be in my heart, Frosty.

He had tiny white strands of hair on his body when he was born, which is why I gave him that name.

---

"Marcus, I’m home!" I sing as I open the door to our penthouse.

Silence.

I close the door gently behind me. He should be here by now.

I remove my coat and hang it on the rack.

His coat is here. So are his shoes. He must be asleep.

"Marcus?" I call again, making my way to the living room.

The moment I step in, I scream.

Marcus is lying on the floor, his throat slit, blood pooling around him.

"Oh my God!" I rush to his side, pressing my hands against his wound.

I rip off my scarf and tie it around his neck to slow the bleeding, but it soaks through instantly.

I check his pulse—it’s there, but faint.

"Oh God, who did this to you?" I cry.

I call an ambulance. They arrive within minutes and rush him to the hospital.

He’s taken straight into surgery.

Nine hours pass before I get any news.

The headlines are already all over us. I have to get extra security.

Now, I’m sitting by Marcus’s bedside, watching his face.

His girlfriend will be here any minute, and then I can go home and change.

The police are investigating, but deep down, I already know who did this.

My phone pings, startling me.

It’s a message from an unknown number.

End it, or else he won’t be lucky next time.

Only one person would threaten Marcus’s life.

Zander.

---

Two days later, Marcus is finally awake—and already threatening to kill Zander.

"Don’t worry, Marc. I’m just glad you’re okay," I tell him, brushing his hair lightly.

"I’m worried. What if they come after you next? We need to do something," he insists.

"I already have. We’ll be moving to Paris as soon as you’re well enough to travel. I’ve prepared everything," I assure him.

"Okay. That will do for now," he says, nodding.

---

I leave Marcus’s room to grab lunch, then return immediately.

The moment I open the door, I stop in my tracks.

Three men surround his bed.

Two are familiar. The third is a stranger.

"Who are you?" I demanded, my eyes glow yellow in warning.

"My name is Beta Zack. This is Warrior Fred and Anil from the Blood Moon Pack," the tallest one says.

"What do you want from me? I’m no longer part of that pack," I say, frustration seeping into my voice.

"The Alpha wants you back. Immediately," Zack states coldly. "Or he dies."

He presses a knife against Marcus’s stitched throat.

"Please, let him go," I plead.

"No can do. Either you leave with us, or we kill him and drag you back. Your choice."

I glare at him, my hands curling into fists.

"Fine. If I go with you, will you let him go?" I ask.

Zack nods.

"Fine. I’ll go with you."

They release Marcus.

And the moment they let their guard down—

I snap Aminil’s neck, killing him instantly.

"This is a message for your Alpha," I snarl at Zack. "Tell him never to touch anyone I love again."

"Now leave. Take the body with you. We’re leaving tomorrow morning."

Zack glares at me but doesn’t argue. He takes Aminil’s body and walks away.

---

"Are you sure about this?" I ask Marcus for the eleventh time since we boarded the plane.

"Yes. I’m not letting you face that narcissistic Alpha alone," he says firmly.

A low growl comes from the back of the plane, followed by sneers.

I roll my eyes and lean back in my seat.

After hours of flying—and Marcus making sure to annoy Zack and Fred every chance he gets—we finally arrive in the U.S.

Our pack is in Connecticut, hidden deep within the forests.

Two cars are waiting for us.

The drive takes us through the city, then onto a forest path.

And the moment we cross into pack territory—

I feel it.

The connection.

I’m home.