ELIAS
The air in the hospital corridor felt thick with grief. I stood frozen, watching a scene I never thought would break my heart: Roman Vance, the most powerful Alpha I knew, crumbling as Vanessa West looked at him with empty recognition.
"I'm sorry," she said politely, the words crushing in their formality. "Do I know you?"
I saw the exact moment Roman's world collapsed. His face—usually so controlled, so commanding—splintered with naked anguish. Beside him, little Fabian clutched his father's hand, tears streaming down his cheeks as he watched his mother fail to recognize the man he'd finally been allowed to call Dad.
For one shameful moment, hope flared in my chest.
This could be my chance. My opportunity to finally win her.
The thought evaporated as quickly as it formed, leaving me disgusted with myself. What kind of man sees another's tragedy as his opening? What kind of Alpha exploits a woman's trauma for his own gain?
Not the man I wanted to be. Not anymore.
