Chapter 3 3

Vivian POV

I had to get out. The penthouse felt like a gilded cage rapidly shrinking around me. I grabbed my purse, my fingers brushing against the hidden zipper pocket where the ultrasound photo lay-the only proof of the fragile life growing inside me. I planned to slip out through the private elevator and take the subway to the Sterling Corp tower. I needed to avoid Alpha Julian Sterling at all costs.

But the Moon Goddess had a cruel sense of humor.

The moment the elevator doors slid open in the subterranean garage, I froze. Julian was standing by his black Maybach, his bespoke suit immaculate, his expression an impenetrable mask of ice. Stone, his Gamma and driver, stood silently by the open rear door.

"Get in," Julian commanded. It wasn't a request. The subtle, crushing weight of his Alpha aura pressed against my chest, a physical force demanding compliance.

"I can take the train," I managed to say, my voice tight.

"Don't be difficult, Vivian. We are going to the same building." He gestured to the dark interior of the car. "Get in."

I obeyed, sliding onto the expensive black leather. The heavy door clicked shut, sealing us in a soundproof tomb. The air inside was instantly suffocating. It wasn't just his overwhelming scent of winter storm and ancient pine; it was the sickeningly sweet, artificial stench of hothouse orchids clinging to his clothes. Serena.

As Stone navigated the Maybach into the chaotic Manhattan traffic, the silence between us stretched, taut and agonizing. Julian didn't look at me. He stared at his tablet, his jaw clenched.

"We need to finalize the transition quickly," he said, his voice devoid of any emotion. "You have to understand, Vivian, our marriage was never about a true bond. You were a ward of the Sterling Pack. A responsibility placed on me by my grandfather and the Elders to maintain stability."

His words were dipped in silver, slicing through my chest. *A responsibility.*

"My duty is fulfilled," he continued, swiping a finger across his screen. "The Pack is secure. You are well-provided for. You are free to find someone... more suited to your nature."

A wolfless Omega. That was what he meant. He was discarding me like a completed charity project, completely oblivious to the fact that I was carrying his Alpha heir. I clutched my purse tighter, my knuckles turning white. The sheer gaslighting of his speech made my stomach churn. He was rewriting our three years of marriage into a burden he had graciously borne.

Desperate for a distraction from his voice and the suffocating scent of his mistress, I pulled out my phone. I opened Instagram, hoping mindless scrolling would keep my tears at bay.

The algorithm, however, was merciless. The first post on my feed was from *@SerenaChaseOfficial*.

It was a photo posted two hours ago. A close-up of two hands intertwined over a white tablecloth. The background was a rainy London street, but the location tag proudly declared: *The Pierre Hotel, New York*.

My breath hitched. On the man's wrist was a custom Patek Philippe watch. I knew every scratch on that platinum band. I had spent six months tracking it down for Julian's birthday, a gift he had barely acknowledged.

But that wasn't the killing blow. Beneath the photo, among the thousands of likes, was a familiar handle: *Arch_J_S*.

It was Julian's private account, a secret identity he used to monitor the human business world. An account I had only discovered by accident a year ago. He had liked her photo. He was sitting right next to me, coldly discussing my dismissal as a "responsibility," while wearing my gift to court his former lover.

The last fragile thread of my broken heart snapped, instantly replaced by a wave of pure, unadulterated disgust.

The Maybach glided to a halt in front of the towering glass and steel structure of the Sterling Corp tower. Before Stone could even put the car in park, I shoved the door open and stumbled onto the busy sidewalk.

"I'll find my own way home tonight," I choked out, not looking back.

"Don't be dramatic, Vivian," Julian's irritated Alpha tone followed me. "We are adults. Act like one."

I didn't answer. I practically ran through the massive revolving doors, ignoring the sharp looks from the Pack security guards in the lobby. I bypassed my own floor and hit the button for the 40th, sprinting down the marble hallway the second the doors opened.

I burst into the empty executive bathroom, the heavy door slamming shut behind me. The sterile smell of citrus cleaner hit my nose, and my body finally gave out.

I collapsed to my knees in front of the nearest toilet and dry-heaved violently. The stress, the betrayal, and the pregnancy hormones collided in a catastrophic explosion. Tears streamed down my face as I gasped for air in the cold, echoing room.

I was carrying his heir, a pup with pure Alpha blood. And the Alpha of the Sterling Pack had just shut me out of his mind, flaunted his mistress on the internet, and prepared to throw us both to the wolves.