Chapter 2

Elara POV:

The top floor of Sovrano Tower smelled like money and ozone.

It also smelled like *her*. Isabella's cloying, artificial sweetness hung in the air, mixing with Dante's deep forest scent.

I stood before his desk, clutching a blue folder. My heart was hammering a hole in my ribs, but I kept my face deadpan.

"Make it quick, Elara." Dante didn't look up from his laptop. "I have a debrief in five."

Isabella was perched on the edge of his desk. Literally sitting on his desk. She smirked, twirling a pen.

"Lost, honey?" she purred. "Kitchen is three floors down."

My wolf snarled, but I kept a lid on it. Be the weak thing they think you are.

"I need a signature, Alpha," I said, keeping it formal.

Dante finally looked up, irritation flashing in his gray eyes. "For what? Another charity check?"

"Gallery logistics," I lied smoothly. "We're moving the collection to storage. The transport company needs the owner's liability release. Since the gallery is technically a Pack asset, only the Prime can sign."

I slid the folder onto the desk.

I'd buried the *Severance Bond* deep. It was page four, sandwiched between a standard insurance waiver and a cargo manifest. The header simply read: *Asset Liquidation and Rights Transfer*.

Technically accurate. I was the asset.

Dante sighed, rubbing his temples. "Can't the Beta handle this?"

"It requires the Prime," I said.

"Just sign it, Dante," Isabella groaned, checking her Cartier watch. "The merger meeting starts in two minutes. Stop wasting time on domestic fluff."

Dante grabbed a fountain pen. He flipped the cover page.

My lungs stopped working. If he read one line of paragraph three, I was done. Treason. Basement cell.

He glanced at the dense text.

*Come on,* I begged silently. *Be the arrogant prick I know you are.*

"You and your paintings," Dante muttered. He didn't read. He just wanted me gone.

He slashed his signature across the bottom line: *Dante Sovrano, Alpha Prime.*

The moment the ink dried, I felt it. A sharp, metallic *snap* in my chest. Like a shackle falling off.

Dante frowned, dropping the pen. He rubbed his chest, wincing.

"What was that?"

"What?" Isabella leaned in, her hand on his shoulder.

"Nothing," Dante shook his head. "Just a sting. Stress."

I snatched the folder before he could think twice. My hands shook, but I hid them behind my back.

I had it. I held my life in a blue folder.

"Thank you, Alpha."

"Go home, Elara," he waved a hand, already turning back to Isabella. "I'm staying at the city apartment tonight."

"I know," I said.

*You won't have to tell me that ever again.*

I walked out. The heavy glass doors hissed shut behind me. He had his merger. He had his Beta.

But he'd just legally signed away his wife.

*