<b>Chapter </b><b>17 </b>
Foster’s <b>POV </b>
The <b>doctor </b><b>paced </b>the room, his footsteps restless and sharp, every movement reeking of anxiety and frustration. His voice trembled<b>, </b>no longer able to mask his panic.
<b>“</b>I told you from the beginning–this <b>was </b>too risky! We were never going to keep this under wraps! And now? What the hell are we supposed to do?”
I stood by the window<b>, </b>taking a <b>deep </b>breath. The cold seeped in through the condensation–frosted ss<b>, </b>chilling me to the bone.
<b>“</b>I’ve arranged an <b>exit </b><b>route</b><b>,</b><b>” </b><b>I </b>said quietly. “Take the money and disappear. The faster<b>, </b>the better. Don’t look back. Don’t talk.”
<b>“</b><b>You </b>think I’m an idiot?” <b>He </b>stopped pacing and red at me with bloodshot eyes. <b>“</b><b>If </b>I run now, it’ll only confirm everything! <b>You </b>nned this, didn’t you? You’re setting me up to take the fall!”
I turned my head slowly<b>, </b>cold fury settling into my expression. <b>“</b>If that’s what I wanted, do you really think you’d still be standing here?”
Crossing my arms over my <b>chest</b>, I let the <b>ice </b>in my <b>voice </b>sink in. <b>“</b>You’ve got enough skeletons in your closet tond you ten years in prison. Don’t test me.”
His face drained of color, but his mouth kept moving. <b>“</b>Luna Summer’s already filed charges–against all of us. Not just me. You included. Even the kid. When this blows up<b>, </b>you think you’lle out clean<b>?</b><b>” </b>
Before I could respond, the door mmed open.
“What did I just hear?! That bitch is suing us<b>?!</b><b>” </b>
Suzanna stormed in, heels clicking like gunshots on the tile floor. Her makeup was wless<b>, </b>but her eyes screamed panic.
The moment I saw her, disgust rose in my throat. She shouldn’t be here<b>–</b>especially now.
It was her mouth, her need to unt, that ruined everything. If we’d just stayed quiet, kept it low<b>… </b>maybe, just maybe, we could’ve gotten away with it.
My <b>voice </b>turned to ice. <b>“</b>You really want the whole building to hear you screeching like that?”
“I<b>–</b>I didn’t mean to,<b>” </b>she stammered, instantly shifting her tone, tears sparkling in her eyes as she moved toward me. “Alpha <b>Foster</b><b>, </b><b>Moore’s </b>still <b>so </b>small. I can’t go to jail. You have to fix this…<b>” </b>
“I can’t <b>even </b>reach her<b>,</b><b>” </b><b>I </b>muttered. “Even if I wanted to talk, she’s gone.”
Her <b>face </b>twisted. “<b>I </b>don’t care! This was your n<b>, </b>your decision. You and that doctor aren’t pinning this on me. If <b>I </b><b>go </b>down, you both go with me<b>.</b><b>” </b>
The doctor snapped. “Oh, give me a break, Suzanna! None of this would’ve happened without you. You wanted to save Moore. That’s why we did it in the first <b>ce</b><b>!</b><b>” </b>
My fists clenched tight. <b>She </b>acted like we were pawns–tools to be used. And now that it’s falling apart<b>, </b>she wants to wash her hands of it.
“When they dig through this, you won’t walk away clean,” I said coldly. “Your son’s eye transnt–whose name is on the donor record? Who performed the surgery? You think you’re untouchable?”
Her face twisted into a snarl. She grabbed a ss off the table and hurled it at the doctor.
“It’s all your <b>fault</b>! I didn’t force you to break thew–you did it yourselves!”
+15 <b>BONUS </b>
“You-” the doctor growled, but I cut them both off.
I was done. Done with the shouting, the me, the chaos.
“Enough,” I snapped. “Suzanna.”
She froze<b>, </b>eyes wide. Then came the tears.
She crawled to my feet<b>, </b>clutching the hem of my jacket like some pathetic, broken thing.
“Alpha Foster, I’m just scared… I’ll do anything <b>if </b>you make this go <b>away</b>. Anything<b>…</b><b><i>” </i></b>Her voice trembled,ced with desperation and something darker.
I nearly gagged.
There <b>was </b>a time I thought she was everything. I gave up Summer for her. Lost everything for her<b>. </b>
And in return? When the walls started to close in, she was the first to throw us all to the wolves.
I shoved her hand away, straightened my jacket, and spoke slowly<b>, </b>clearly.
<b>“</b><b>If </b>you really want my help, get out of my sight.”
I didn’t look back as I left the room.
Outside, the sky was a thick, angry gray–clouds churning like the storm in my chest.
I dragged myself into my own office, barely had time to sit before my Beta knocked.
He handed me <b>a </b>courier envelope.
I took it without thinking<b>–</b>until I saw the sender’s name.
Summer Winster. 1
Her name hit me like a punch to the gut.
A flicker of foolish hope sparked in my chest.
Was she finally agreeing to meet? Did she want to talk things through?
I opened the envelope-
And froze.
Inside was a stack of documents. Stamped. Signed. Final.
Divorce papers.
The answer I’d been waiting for, from a marriage long dead.
Final
Irrevocable,
Over