~Ella~
Today has been super exhausting, and although it's barely noon, I've already been running from one department to another.
When I first started working here, I hadn't realized just how massive his company really was—over a hundred employees, endless meetings, and layers upon layers of paperwork. And yet, the man only pays me fifteen thousand.
I've just finished drafting and proofreading a batch of confidential contracts for new software partnerships—something his actual legal team should probably be handling, but apparently, the CEO's secretary does it all. I clip the documents together and add them to the pile of files I'm supposed to deliver to his office.
Standing up, I straighten my blouse, gather the files in my arms, and head down the hallway. At his door, I give a single knock before entering. He usually comes in on Wednesdays for the weekly board meetings.., his precious empire never seems to slow down—but the moment I step inside, I freeze.
A gorgeous blonde woman is seated casually on the leather couch, her long legs crossed, confidence dripping off her like perfume. I recognize her instantly. Not just because she's a werewolf—the sharpness in her aura makes that impossible to miss—but because she's everywhere. A popular model, plastered across billboards, magazines, and social media feeds.
She stands up, heels clicking softly against the polished floor as she comes closer. I place the files neatly on the desk, but my hands linger there, stiff, as her words settle in.
"I see… you must be the wolfless girl Vince decided to marry," she says with a slight smirk tugging at her lips.
I hesitate, then lift my gaze to meet her hazel eyes. Her beauty is undeniable, but so is the arrogance radiating off her.
"And you are?" I ask, my voice steady, refusing to let anger or insecurity bleed through. I've heard those words, "wolfless girl" countless times. They still sting, yes, but I've built up a callus. I can't shift, and it's not something I can change. I've learned, painfully, to live with it.
She tilts her head, her glossy hair falling over one shoulder. "I'm Jessica," she says smoothly, her lips curving into a smile that's meant to cut. "Vince and I… share a history. A very intimate one." Her tone makes the implication shamelessly clear... this wasn't just casual.
Why is she telling me this? Why is she proud to announce her place in his past—maybe even his present? My chest tightens, a dull pang I can't push away. It hurts, even though I try to mask it. Because no matter what I tell myself, we are tied together. While his life goes on, full of freedom and choices, mine has become a series of adjustments—shaping myself around his words, his moods, his terms.
"And why would I care about your history with him?" I counter, my tone sharp but steady. "Though, judging by the bitterness you're dripping with, I can see exactly why he didn't choose to marry you."
I don't even know why those words spill out of me. Maybe because I can't stand people tossing trash in my face and expecting me to smile. Or maybe it's Vivian's influence—my sassy best friend who drilled it into me that no one, no matter who they are, should ever step on me.
Jessica's smirk twists into a scowl. "And you think he loves you?" she snaps. "If he did, he wouldn't have asked me to meet him for lunch. Or do you think that is something husbands usually do with women like me?"
The air between us tightens, heavy with unspoken venom. But before I can answer, the sound of the door clicking open cuts through the tension.
Vincent steps inside, eyes flicking between us. His expression is unreadable, but the weight of his presence fills the room.
I'm the first to move. "I've brought all the files needed for today, sir," I say quickly, my voice calm but my heart thundering.
"Ella—" he starts, but I don't wait to hear the rest. I brush past him, ignoring the way my chest clenches at the sound of my name on his lips.
My steps are brisk, purposeful, but the moment I reach the restroom, the mask cracks. I grip the edge of the sink and splash cold water on my face, trying to wash away the burn in my chest.
He is seeing women on the side. What did I expect? That after marrying me, Vincent Russel of all people would suddenly live like a monk?
Still, it hurts. More than I want to admit. I feel… used. And deep down, I know he didn't marry me for love—there had to be reasons, his own reasons, ones he'll never share.
Tears threaten, blurring my vision, but I blink them back furiously.
I reach for my phone, glancing at the time, but the screen swims unfocused before I shove it back into my pocket. When I close my eyes, even for a second, an image of him kissing her burns across my mind—and I jolt them open, as if keeping them wide will stop the ache crawling inside me.
I take a moment to gather my scattered emotions and, once I've freshened up, I finally step out of the restroom.
This is how life is going to be for as long as I'm tied to him. My plans of leaving haven't changed, but moments like this make me question if I'll even last the two months I promised myself I'd work here. Maybe I shouldn't wait. Maybe the first chance I get—once I have my paycheck—I should just disappear.
I know myself too well. I'm a Cancer—I get attached, too emotional, too easily. And I can't afford that with him. I won't let myself be destroyed by someone who barely cares for me. If I want to protect myself from heartache, the smartest choice is to walk away before it's too late.
I push open the door to my office and close it quietly. Letting my forehead fall against the cool wood, I release a long, shaky sigh.
"Ella…"
I almost jump out of my skin at the sound of his voice. He's right behind me. My hand curls into a fist against the door, my heart pounding against my ribs.
Slowly, I turn around to face him. Vincent stands there, broad-shouldered and unreadable, his eyes pinned on me with that unnerving calm of his.
"Didn't you hear me calling you earlier?" he asks, his voice low, controlled—too controlled.
I swallow hard, steadying myself. "I heard you, sir. I just didn't think it was necessary to respond."
Something flickers across his face, sharp and dangerous, though gone in an instant. He takes a step closer, and the air between us tightens.