Chapter 3

Alessia POV:

Santino's warning tore through the grand hall, carrying a bone-chilling coldness that made the hairs on my arms stand up.

The invisible weight of his Alpha aura pressed against my chest. My lungs were being squeezed tight, forcing the oxygen out in shallow, burning gasps.

I swallowed the metallic tang of blood pooling in my mouth. My brain raced, analyzing the variables.

The suppressant was at its peak concentration in my bloodstream. Fighting back physically right now was a tactical error. The royal survival code pounded in my head: endure, calculate, and strike only when the advantage is absolute. Pride without power was just stupidity.

Slowly, deliberately, I loosened my death grip on the oak banister. My fingers ached as they uncurled from the wood.

I bowed my head. I let my chin drop toward my chest, breaking eye contact with his glowing, blood-red stare. I let my shoulders slump just a fraction, mimicking the physical posture of a submitted wolf.

Santino let out a harsh, satisfied scoff. The suffocating pressure in the room vanished in a split second.

The air rushed back in. Below me, the maids gasped loudly, dragging oxygen into their lungs as they slowly pushed themselves up from the floor.

I took a small step backward, moving to the far edge of the landing. I pressed my back against the wall, leaving the center of the staircase wide open.

Santino didn't waste another second. He wrapped his arm tightly around Valentina's waist and marched toward the stairs. He walked with heavy, arrogant steps, wearing the pride of a conqueror.

They reached the top landing. As they passed me, Valentina suddenly shifted her weight. She leaned into my space and slammed her shoulder hard against mine.

My body was still trembling from the drug and the physical exertion. The impact knocked me off balance. My heel slipped on the edge of the carpet. I stumbled backward, my hand flailing out to catch the wall just before I tipped down the steps.

Santino didn't even turn his head. He didn't check to see if I had fallen. He just kept walking down the hallway.

I pushed myself off the wall. I stood perfectly still, watching their retreating backs.

Santino stopped in front of the largest guest suite, the one located directly next to our master bedroom. He reached out and pushed the heavy door open for her.

My expression was entirely blank. But deep inside my chest, a heavy iron door slammed shut. The three-year sentence I had served in this marriage was officially over. I pronounced it dead.

I turned on my heel and walked in the opposite direction, heading straight for my private study at the far end of the corridor.

I stepped inside and pushed the door shut. I turned the deadbolt. The heavy click of the lock sealed me off from the rest of the house.

My legs finally gave out. I stumbled toward the leather sofa in the center of the room and collapsed onto the cushions. My limbs felt like lead.

I lay there in the silence. The grandfather clock in the corner ticked the hours away. Outside the window, the bright afternoon sun slowly faded into a bruised purple twilight, and then into pitch black.

The automated security lights of the territory flickered on, casting long shadows across the lawn.

I sat up. The worst of the drug's immediate fatigue had passed. My breathing was steady again.

The room felt stuffy. I stood up and walked over to the wall panel, hitting the switch to open the central air conditioning vents.

A rush of cool air blew down from the ceiling grate. But it wasn't the crisp, clean scent of pine and fresh linen I was used to.

A thick, nauseating wave of cheap, rotting peach perfume poured out of the vent. The central system was circulating the air from her room into mine.

My stomach violently rebelled. I slapped my hand over my mouth, gagging hard.

I slammed my hand against the control panel, shutting the vent completely.

The silence returned, but the smell lingered. It was a physical violation. A werewolf's scent marks their territory. Smelling her in my locked sanctuary meant my home was already gone.

I walked over to the heavy mahogany desk. I pressed the power button on the computer.

The screen flickered to life, casting a harsh blue glow over my pale, cold face. I typed in the encrypted password for the territory's master financial system.

The dashboard loaded. I moved the mouse, navigating straight to the fund withdrawal and transfer page.

"Since you like providing for someone else, use your own money."