Chapter 2

This had never happened before. His desk drawer was always locked. But this time, it wasn’t.

Curiosity gnawed at me, and eventually, I gave in.

I pulled the drawer open, expecting resistance. Instead, it slid effortlessly, revealing its contents.

Inside lay detailed maps of the pack’s expanding territories—plans outlining future trading centers, alliance strongholds, and diplomatic outposts that Nolan’s pack had already established or intended to develop. Resting beside them was a small velvet box.

I thumbed through the documents, scanning each carefully. Then, something caught my eye.

Every trading post, every new settlement, even landmarks bore the same name—Dalton. Dalton Market. Dalton Lands. Dalton Jewelers.

Although I was part of the Pack’s Strategic Development Council, Nolan had always assured me that he handled territorial affairs independently. I had seldom interfered. Yet now, the truth lay before me—every move he made, every political alliance he forged, had been dedicated to Mireille.

Reaching for the small box, I flipped it open. The jewelry it once held was gone, yet the authenticity certificate remained inside.

It was for a Cartier piece. The Cartier Sapphire and Diamond Necklace—the Moonstone Jewel.

I had long admired that necklace. More than once, I had caught myself staring at it on my phone, scrolling back to it repeatedly.

Yet, I had never owned it.

I remembered the moment Nolan had dismissed the idea.

“Selena, a necklace of that value isn’t suitable for a Luna to wear casually. Wouldn’t you prefer something more meaningful? I could commission a handcrafted silver pendant from our pack’s artisans.”

And yet, only yesterday, Mireille had worn that exact necklace to her pack’s gathering.

I stepped onto the Packhouse balcony, letting the icy night air bite at my skin. My vision blurred, moisture stinging my eyes.

My phone vibrated.

A message flashed across the screen.

[Luna Hayes, are you certain about your decision?]

I didn’t hesitate.

[Yes. My mind is made up.]

It was time to leave.

At dawn, with my bags packed, I placed a call to Nolan.

“I’m heading to Italy tonight.”

A pause. Then, confusion tinged his voice.

“That’s sudden. What’s going on?”

Swallowing the bitterness rising in my throat, I forced a casual tone.

“Some of the high-ranking she-wolves from New York planned a short trip, and I decided to join them.”

He didn’t question it.

Instead, he pressed a light kiss to my cheek, his wolf utterly unaware of the storm raging inside me.

“Good. Enjoy yourself. Buy something nice.”

I exhaled slowly, marveling at how effortlessly he could feign affection.

But there was no need to pretend anymore.

This game had run its course.

Recalling the location of the newest trade hub from the documents, I drove there, knowing it would be the last time I set eyes on Nolan.

At the gathering, a designated area had been prepared for the grand opening, and Nolan stood at the center of the event.

Exuding confidence, he navigated conversations with every Alpha and high-ranking guest, seamlessly weaving through the crowd.

Mireille, by contrast, wore an outfit designed to draw attention, her scent deliberately laced with dominance, her gaze seductive and knowing. She lifted her glass, her lips curling into a slow smirk.

“Beta Reed, congratulations.”

For a split second, something flickered in Nolan’s gaze—an emotion I couldn’t quite place. But just as quickly, his composed demeanor returned, and he clinked his glass against hers.

“Alpha Dalton, your contributions to the design have been invaluable. The Dalton Trade Hub is already attracting key alliances on its first day.”

He deliberately emphasized ‘our trade hub,’ and the words coiled around my chest like a vice.

I stepped forward.

At the sight of me, Nolan’s surprise was fleeting before his mask of control slipped back into place.

“Why are you here?”

Feigning nonchalance, I offered a smile.

“What’s wrong? Am I not welcome at my own pack’s event?”

He set his glass down. Something about my tone must have unsettled him, but he chose to ignore it.

“Of course not. But you dislike large gatherings. I didn’t expect you to come.”

Beside him, Mireille observed me with quiet amusement, her smirk deepening as though she knew exactly why I had come.

Just then, Irene, the pack’s head strategist, approached, lowering her head in deference before addressing my mate.

“Beta Reed, your speech is about to begin.”

Nolan turned to me.

“Find a seat and rest. I won’t be long.”

Without another word, he strode toward the stage.

I picked up a small piece of sweetbread, taking my time before sitting down.

Mireille, naturally, couldn’t resist.

With an arrogant sway in her step, she sauntered over, her voice dripping with mock affection.

“Long time no see, Selena. My dear, dear friend.”