Reba’s POV
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I nodded, my throat constricting as I tried to swallow. “I need to collect some personal items, I exined, the words barely audible even
to my own <b>ears</b><b>. </b>
111 apany you inside,‘ he stated firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument.
“That’s not necessary. I’m just grabbing a few things.” I fought to keep my voice steady, though I could feel a slight tremor in my hands.
“Mr. Sterling wouldn’t want you facing potential trouble alone, Raymond insisted, his eyes meeting mine in the mirror again. ‘I can help carry your belongings<b>.</b><b>” </b>
A warmth spread through my chest, unexpected and wee. Though I knew this was Dominic’smand, Raymond’s concern seemed genuine, his eyes kind despite his formal demeanor. The sensation of being protected was foreign after years of facing everything alone, <b>even </b>while with William<b>. </b>
<b>“</b>Thank you, Raymond,” I whispered, feeling some of the tension drain from my shoulders, the tightness in my chest easing slightly.
He nodded, reaching into his pocket to hand me a business card. “If you ever need assistance, you can contact me directly<b>.</b><b>” </b>
The Bentley pulled up outside William’s luxury apartment building. Standing at his door, my finger hovered over the doorbell as anxiety crawled up my throat and settled there like a weight. I inhaled deeply, held the breath until my lungs burned<b>, </b>then released it slowly as I clenched my jaw and pressed the button, my fingernail turning white from the pressure.
Secondster, the door swung open. William stood there, and the sight of him made my skin prickle with revulsion. Every muscle in my body tensed, preparing for the verbal assault I knew wasing. A sardonic smile spread across his face when he saw me<b>, </b>his eyes gleaming with malice.
“Well, look who’se crawling back,” he drawled, his voice slithering into my ears and freezing me <b>from </b>within. “Having regrets? Ready to get on your knees and beg me to take you back<b>?</b><b>” </b>He leaned against the doorframe, his gaze <b>traveling </b><b>over </b><b>me </b>contemptuously. I crossed my arms over my chest<b>, </b>feeling exposed<b>, </b>vited by his stare alone.
‘I’m only here for <b>my </b>belongings,” I said<b>, </b>forcing each word through the tightness <b>in </b>my throat.
“Your belongings?” He scoffed, nostrils ring <b>in </b><b>contempt</b><b>. </b>“You left me. Did you really think you could survive without me?*
He reached out to touch my face, and I jerked backward instinctively, my body remembering <b>the </b>way his gentle touches would often turn controlling. The smell of Olivia’s perfume clung to him, invading my senses and churning my stomach.
William’s eyes shifted to Raymond standing behind me<b>, </b>his expression faltering, uncertainty creeping into the edges of his smirk. <b>“</b>Who’s <b>this</b>?‘
I’m Miss Brown’s security, Raymond stated calmly, though I could sense the shift in his posture behind me. The air around us seemed to <b>change</b>, charged with unspoken tension.
<b>William’s </b>eyes shed dangerously amber–his wolf near the surface. I watched his fingers twitch at his sides, a movement I <b>recognized </b>from our arguments, when he’d struggle to contain his anger. His throat worked as he swallowed, restraint evident <b>in </b>every <b>line </b><b>of </b><b>his </b>body.
“I just want my design sketches and personal items,” I repeated, drawing strength from Raymond’s solid presence.
(64)
William’s jaw tightened, a muscle jumping in his cheek before he finally stepped aside. The movement was stiff, reluctant. “Look around, but don’t steal anything that isn’t yours.”
I entered the apartment, feeling like an intruder. Every familiar sight now felt wrong, tainted. The throw pillows I’d selected were gone, reced with ones in colors I hated. Even the air felt different–heavier, hostile. My chest tightened as I moved through the space, memories assaulting me with each step. I headed straight for the master bedroom and opened the closet, a small gasp escaping me as I found it filled with Olivia’s expensive clothing.
“I threw out your cheap wardrobe,” William said coldly from the doorway. Each wordnded like tiny needles under my skin. “Olivia needed the space. Those clothes weren’t befitting the Moretti name anyway.”
<b>12:04 </b><b>Mon</b><b>, </b><b>Sep </b><b>22 </b>
Mated by Contract to the Alpha
<b>Chapter </b><b>42 </b>