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If your ex thought you were dead for five years, then randomly spots you in a boardroom with a mini version of himself... what's your move? A. Hand over your business card like a boss B. Smile and go "Long time no see" C. Hit him with "Kids need money for soccer practice" I went with D: All three, plus I snatched every territory deal his pack had. Now this Alpha King is literally crying, begging me to forgive him. And me? I'm debating if he even deserves my number. "Luna, you sure about this?" Corbin Ashmark asked quietly. I sat across from him in the council's office—dim lamp flickering in the corner, air thick with dust and old files. He was the only elder in the pack who'd take this kind of case without asking too many questions. "Yes," I said, keeping my voice steady. "I want the bond severance filed quietly. My mate can't know until it's done." He looked at me for a long moment, then pushed the papers forward. "You'll need his signature." I nodded and slipped them into my bag. When I got back to the pack house, the guards didn't even look at me. Nobody here cared about me. I'd become invisible in my own pack. I knew Calix would be in his study. Marcella's laugh drifted through the half-open door before I even got close. "—so funny," she was saying. "I know, right?" Calix replied, his voice relaxed in a way I'd never heard. I pushed the door open. Calix froze, whisky glas//s halfway to his mouth. His smile disappeared the second he saw me. "Oh, hey! Valora, you're back already?" Marcella said brightly, her hand resting on his arm. I nodded. Calix didn't push her away. He just sipped his drink like nothing was wrong. I looked away. He'd never joked around with me like that. But with her? Different story. "I need you to sign something," I said, pulling out the papers. I flipped to the signature page and put it on his desk. "What's this?" he asked, frowning. "Just a waiver for a new client project," I lied. "I need your signature, you're my mate." My parents died when I was seventeen. Calix's father took me in after that because my dad had been his Beta. That's how Calix and I ended up bonded three years ago—a political arrangement more than anything. "Let me read it first," Calix said, reaching for the papers. My stomach dropped. He never read anything I gave him. Why now? "Cal, come on," Marcella laughed. "It's just paperwork. You sign a hundred things a day. Just do it." Marcella was the Vipercrest Pack heiress. She'd come back almost a year ago after her own bond fell apart. Since then, she'd been everywhere—at his meetings, in his car, always right next to him. Calix hesitated, then grabbed a pen and signed with a quick scrawl. I snatched the papers before he could flip to the front page and see BOND SEVERANCE PETITION in bold letters. I walked out before either of them could see my hands shaking. I went upstairs to the room we barely shared anymore. The bond had been dead long before today. Actually, it hadn't always been like this. Three years ago, Calix couldn't keep his hands off me. He'd pull me into dark corners during pack events just to kiss me. The bond between us bvrned hot and constant. Now? He barely looked at me. Calix was cold, ruthless, dangerous. At twenty-six, he'd already taken over as Alpha King after his father died. He'd expanded territory, crushed rivals, and built an empire that scared even human CEOs. The Council called him brilliant. The smaller packs called him the Iron Wolf . I'd kept my distance from him growing up. Until one night three years ago changed everything. He came home covered in blood—rogue blood. I was in the kitchen patching up a knife wound from one of his father's drunk warriors who thought I was easy prey. Calix helped me. Then he offered more than first aid. He offered to mark me. A deal, he said. Protection for me, and solidify his position within the pack for him. I said yes. Maybe out of fear. Maybe loneliness. Maybe because some part of me had always been drawn to him. We completed the bond a week later under the full moon, his bite searing into my neck while the pack howled. He wasn't romantic, but the pull between us was real. I fell for him—for the rare smiles he gave me in private, for the way his wolf purred when I touched him. I thought I could make him love me back. Then Marcella came back, and everything shattered. Suddenly she was everywhere. Last month proved it. We were supposed to have dinner at The Silver Moon for our anniversary. I waited five hours. His Beta showed up instead with an apology gift—a diamond necklace. The next morning, I saw the photos. Calix at a gala with Marcella on his arm, looking like the perfect pair. That's when I started planning my escape. I hid the severance papers in my closet, in an old jewelry box from my mother. Thirty days. That's all I needed. Once the waiting period ended, the bond would be severed. Calix could keep his pack. His empire. His Marcella. I wasn't going to be the forgotten Luna anymore. *** Valora's POV I'd signed the severance papers. Now I just had to wait—and plan my escape. Two days later, I met with a design firm director in the Silvermoon City. They'd been following my work for months. "We'd love to have you, Valora!" she said warmly. "The position's yours. You can start anytime in the next two months." I said yes immediately. Finally. A life that was actually mine. Back at the pack house, I started packing in secret. I turned my home studio into a staging area—boxes hidden under fabric samples and old sketchbooks. First, I packed the things that mattered: framed photos, my mom's necklace, a pair of worn ballet shoes I hadn't touched in years. Every day, I packed a little more. Because no one could know I was leaving. Three days later, Calix walked into my studio without knocking. "Didn't know you still came here," he said from the doorway. I turned, startled. He was leaning against the frame, half-smiling—something I hadn't seen in months. "It's the only place no one bothers me," I said lightly. "Even me?" I raised an eyebrow. "Especially you." For a second, something flickered in his eyes. Something that made my stupid heart skip. "Come with me," he said suddenly. "Where?" "Dinner. Just us." I wanted to believe him. I really did. But we made it to the front hall before Marcella appeared, tablet in hand, silk blouse perfect as always. "Cal, you need to see this," she said, breezing past me like I didn't exist. "Ravenscourge's shipment got held up. If we don't act now—" "It can wait," Calix said coolly. "No, it really can't." She held out the tablet. Calix hesitated—just for a second—then took it. I watched his attention shift. Watched her step more closer, voice dropping low. The dinner plan died right there. I should be used to it by now. Every attempt I made—breakfast, a drive through the territory, even late-night talks in bed—Marcella always showed up. A phone call Calix "had to take." Urgent papers she "couldn't wait to deliv//er." And he never sent her away. What do I mean to him, really? My resolve hardened with every interruption. A week later, I sat in our bedroom, thinking about Silvermoon. Starting over wouldn't be easy. Should I stay? Give him—give us—one more chance? Maybe if I just told Calix how Marcella made me feel, he'd listen. Maybe things would change. She was the problem, right? Not us. My thoughts were interrupted by a dull ache low in my stomach. I'd been feeling off for days—tired, nauseous, constant headaches. I'd blamed it on stress. But the nagging feeling wouldn't go away. Could it be...? I drove to the pharmacy, bought a test, locked myself in the bathroom. Five minutes later, I sat on the cold tile floor, staring at two pink lines. Pregnant. My first reaction wasn't fear. It was hope. And I hated myself for it. Hated that I thought maybe this would finally pull us closer. Maybe a baby would make him see me—not just as a convenient Luna or someone he slept with, but as someone who actually mattered. He couldn't be heartless enough to push me away when I was carrying his child. Right? For the first time in months, I felt hopeful. Maybe I wouldn't have to leave after all. I waited for Calix to come home. I dressed in soft cream silk, left my hair down, set two glas//ses on the table—wine for him, water for me. He came in late, on the phone, loosening his tie while barking orders. "Calix," I said quietly once he hung up. He glanced at me. "Yeah?" "I need to tell you something." His eyebrows lifted, impatient. "What?" "I'm pregnant." The words hung in the air. Calix froze. For a split second, I swore I saw surprise—maybe even wonder—but it vanished instantly, replaced by something cold. "You're what?" "Pregnant," I repeated, my heart pounding. "We're having a baby." Silence stretched out, thick and suffocating. Finally, he exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. "You've been on birth control the whole time." "Nothing's a hundred percent," I whispered, my voice cracking. He paced. Jaw tight. "You planned this?" "What? No!" I said, unable to believe what I was hearing. This wasn't how I'd imagined this going. Why wasn't he happy? "Because it sure as he//ll feels like you're trying to trap me." The words hit like a slap. "Calix," I said softly, swallowing hard, "it's our child." "But this isn't the right time," he muttered, grabbing his jacket. "There's too much going on with Ravenscourge. The treaty negotiations. This just... complicates things." "So what do you want me to do?" I asked, dreading his answer but needing to hear it. If he rejected his own child that would be the end. The final straw. He didn't answer right away. That pause told me everything. When he finally spoke, his voice was flat. "You should think about it." The tears didn't come until after he left, slamming the door behind him. I sat on the edge of the bed, both hands cradling my stomach, whispering to the tiny life inside me: "Don't worry, baby. Even if he doesn't want us, I do. And I promise—I'm going to take you far, far away from this place." *** Calix's POV I wasn't a man who missed details. I could spot a lie in a flicker of an eye, catch betrayal in a half-second pause. So how had I missed this? I stood in the doorway of our bedroom, arms folded, watching Valora fold clothes into neat stacks. Not the designer dresses she wore to pack events. Not the silk gowns that clung to her curves the way I liked. These were soft knits, cotton shirts—travel clothes. "Going somewhere?" I asked, keeping my tone neutral. She startled slightly but didn't look up. "Just reorganizing." I frowned. Something about the way she kept her back half-turned felt deliberate. Like she was hiding something. Over the past two weeks, she'd gotten quieter. Not cold exactly—but distant. Our conversations stayed polite, even warm sometimes, but they lacked the sharp edge of our earlier arguments. I almost preferred the fights. At least then she met me head-on. Now it felt like she was retreating behind walls I hadn't noticed her building. "Valora," I said, stepping closer. "What's going on?" She paused, then set down the shirt and faced me with a smile that was too calm. "Nothing. Why?" I didn't believe her. But I didn't know what to accuse her of, either. Later that night, I found her in the garden, sitting on the stone bench with both hands resting over her stomach. My gaze drifted there before I could stop it. She was carrying my child. Our child. I'd confirmed it with the pack doctor after she told me. Dr. Salvehart said she was about ten weeks along—conceived the last time we'd been together. I knew she'd decided to keep it. I hadn't decided how I felt yet. I had too many enemies circling right now, looking for a weakness to exploit. And a child—an heir—would be the biggest target of all. With the Ravenscourge Pack breathing down our necks and treaty negotiations on a knife's edge, bringing a pup into this world felt reckless. "You should be resting," I said, leaning against a column. "I am resting," she replied without looking at me. No bite in her tone. But no warmth either. "Valora..." I exhaled, running a hand through my hair. "If you're upset about what I said the other night—" She turned sharply, her eyes flashing even in the dim light. "Which part? When you accused me of trapping you? Or when you told me to think about it?" I clenched my jaw. I really shouldn't have said those things, but the pressure lately has been overwhelming. The countless issues within the pack feel like he//ll, and I took it all out on her. "I didn't mean—" "You meant every word." She stood and brushed past me like she couldn't stand being near me another second. I stayed in the garden long after she left, che//st tight with something uncomfortably close to guilt. But instead of facing it, I shoved it down—like I did with everything when it came to her. She was just angry. Hurt, maybe. Acting out for my attention. I had bigger things to deal with than a mate trying to manipulate me with silence. Besides, it wasn't like I was cruel. Okay, I was—but not to her. I provided for her. More than most Lunas could dream of. Security. Wealth. Protection. She never wanted for anything. I let her work her design job in the human city, let her keep her studio both downtown and here at the estate. Most Alphas wouldn't allow that kind of freedom. And Marcella—she'd always been a constant. She understood pack politics, the blood, the sacrifices. She could anticipate my decisions before I made them. She could strategize with me without needing explanations. I knew Valora saw Marcella as a threat. But she wasn't. Marcella was an ally—one I needed to keep the pack intact. When she came back from the Northern Territories a year ago, things had been falling apart. Deals collapsing. Ravenscourge making moves on our borders. Elders questioning my authority. On the surface, everything looked fine—but only I knew how close we were to losing control. I could've asked my father's old elders for help, but with the Council already doubting me, showing weakness wasn't an option. Marcella's connections—her pack's resources, her father's influence in the Western Territories—had kept us afloat. She'd stayed through the worst of it without complaining, without demanding anything in return. But Valora didn't see any of that. What did she want from me, really? To sit in bed whispering sweet things when wars were being fought? To hold her hand while enemies plotted to bury us both? I didn't have time for that. Not yet. It wasn't that I didn't care about Valora. There were moments I admired her—her quiet strength, the softness in her voice when she spoke to pack members, the warmth in her smile when she thought no one was watching. But admiration was a luxury. And I didn't live on luxuries. I lived on survival. Survival meant prioritizing the pack. The territory. The alliances that kept us alive. Valora would understand eventually, when things calmed down. When the sm//oke cleared and Marcella didn't have to sit through every meeting, every negotiation. I'd have time then. For now, she just needed to be patient. To trust me. But instead, she was packing travel clothes. Speaking with an edge in her voice. Acting like I'd failed her—when I'd given her everything that mattered. I sighed, staring out into the night, the weight of a thousand unspoken things pressing on my che//st. My wolf stirred restlessly beneath my skin. I wasn't wrong. I couldn't be wrong. Could I? *** Valora's POV Finally, it was time. I'd quietly waited out the mandatory thirty-day bond severance period. After Calix rejected me, rejected our child, I had nothing left to hold onto. I'd rehearsed my escape so many times it felt like muscle memory. I'd moved everything I needed—which wasn't much—in small stacks from the pack house to my studio downtown. No one paid attention to what I did anymore, but I hadn't taken any risks. Not with a pup involved. All my things would be shipped with my studio supplies this morning, and the flight to Silvermoon was booked for tonight. My as//sistant at the studio had arranged it all, believing I was simply relocating for work. Only I knew I wasn't coming back. I'd already told the HR director at my new firm in Silvermoon about the pregnancy. They'd been more than accommodating—adjusting my start date, offering flexible hours, even connecting me with a trusted wolf-friendly doctor in the city. Kindness from strangers I hadn't even met yet had brought tears to my eyes. When I'd received nothing but coldness at the place I called home. It cemented my decision. I'd rather be somewhere I was valued than here, where I was either invisible or inconvenient. I double-checked my bag: pas//sport, medical file, appointment slip from Dr. Salvehart, the ultrasound I hadn't shown anyone. I'd barely slept. My escape plan was a fragile secret. I was constantly worried, afraid that Calix would discover it. This morning, I was supposed to visit the pack doctor for a final checkup. Afterward, I'd take a cab straight to the airport. I'd already received my copy of the finalized bond severance certificate yesterday. Calix's copy would be mailed to him with a deliberate three-day delay after my departure. With a quiet breath, I smoothed down my dress and picked up my bag. Time to go. --- I hadn't expected or wanted to see Calix before leaving. But when I walked downstairs, he was in the living room, dark suit immaculate, sipping coffee like nothing could disturb him. Surprisingly, Marcella wasn't dra//ped over him today. Even though I'd mentally prepared for this, my heart still stuttered when his gaze swept over me. "You're dressed early," he said, eyes narrowing. "Where are you going?" "The doctor," I said evenly, hand brushing over my stomach. "I have an appointment." His gaze flicked down, then back up. Unreadable. "You're still going through with this?" His tone was too casual, too sharp. "Valora, I told you. In our world, yes, the young are a blessing. But now, for us, they are a weakness." My throat tightened. "A weakness? He's our child, Calix." He set down his cup. "Don't be naive. This isn't the right time. I've got rogues circling. The Ravenscourge breathing down our necks. An heir paints a target on your back. On his." I shook my head. What was he talking about? He himself had been an heir. His father had been Alpha King before him, and Calix had survived just fine. So why couldn't our pup be protected the same way? What a pathetic excuse for not wanting a child. My voice trembled, but I forced it steady. "So what? You want me to—" His jaw ticked. "I'll say it again. You'd better make your choice willingly, or else, if you don't, Valora—" I froze. "If I don't, what?" The room fell into a silence. His eyes darkened, and the next words came out low, sending a chill through my body. "Then you'll force my hand." Blood rushed to my ears. The room spun. He hadn't raised his voice. Hadn't hurt me. But the words cut deeper than claws. "You'd... kill me for this?" I whispered. His expression flickered. But he didn't take it back, either. And that was worse. Without waiting for another word, I turned and walked away without looking back. The door slammed shut behind me. Leaving was no longer just a divorce plan. Now, it had become my only chance to survive. On the way to the clinic, I was still in a daze. How could he go this far just because I wanted to keep this child? I pressed trembling hands over my belly the entire way, whispering promises to my unborn pup. It's okay, baby, don't be afraid. Mommy will protect you. Inside, I met briefly with Dr. Salvehart. He discussed vitamins, flight precautions, early genetic markers common in Alpha bloodlines. I left feeling lighter than when I'd walked in. Every step toward the exit felt closer to freedom. Halfway there, an explosion erupted in the distance. The engine of my waiting car ignited in a sudden roar of fire. Everything turned to sm//oke and ash. The street erupted with screams as medical personnel rushed past me. Heat waves licked my skin as I shielded my stomach and pushed forward, desperate to see what had happened. When someone dragged a charred body from the flames, I nearly collapsed upon recognizing who it was. My driver. Calix. He did it. The moment I stepped out of my house, my car exploded—and only he knew where I was. How foolish of me to think he wouldn't actually do it. Yes, he warned me. Threatened me. "Then you'll force my hand." When I pointed at him, he never denied it. My heart clenched painfully. My baby. My innocent pup. Was all the sweetness before just a lie? The moment I did something he disapproved of, he now wanted me dead. Staggering to the street corner, only one thought filled my mind: RUN. Trembling, I hailed a taxi. My luggage was already shipped. I could head straight to the airport now. Silvermoon. A new name. A new future. I would never return. *** 5 Years Later Valora's POV "Mama, faster!" Orion's laughter rang through the sunny apartment as he sprinted across the living room, bare feet slapping against the wooden floor. I pretended to chase him, catching him just before he could duck under the table. I scooped him up, spinning him around until he squealed with delight. His curls bounced into his eyes—Calix's eyes—and for a moment, I froze, my che//st tightening with an ache I thought I'd buried years ago. I kissed my son's forehead, forcing the memory away. "Alright, alright. Time to calm down, little wolf. Mama has work." Work. The word meant something different now than it had five years ago. No longer was I just a Luna trying to prove herself. I was now Celestia Mooncrest, Director of Design and Client Relations at one of Silvermoon's top luxury firms—sought after and thriving. My colleagues had become my family. They knew me as a single mother who'd built her life from scratch, and they admired me for it. None of them know the real reason why I came here. This morning, I was halfway through finalizing the client list for an upcoming international design expo when my boss Linnea knocked on my door, looking pleased but slightly tense. "Celestia, do you have a minute?" "Of course." Linnea closed the door and sat across from me. "We've been offered a huge partnership—an international investor for the Urban Renaissance project. It'll open doors for all of us. Funding, recognition, global press. And..." My pen stilled. "And what?" "The investor is Duskfang Industries." The name hit me like a blow to the che//st. Linnea continued, oblivious to my rigid posture. "The CEO himself is flying in from the Northern Territories for final negotiations. We'll need our director of client relations at the table. Which means you." I stared at her blankly, heart pounding so loud I barely heard anything else. "Celestia? You alright?" I forced a smile—thin, shaky. "Yes. Of course. Just... surprised. I didn't know Duskfang Industries funded design projects." Linnea nodded. "They only started a few years back, expanding beyond territory holdings into commercial development. But they're exactly the kind of connection we need to go international." I nodded, still trying to process what I'd just heard. When Linnea left, I sat frozen, fingers clenched around my pen. When I'd left the Duskfang pack lands five years ago, I never thought I'd see Calix again. Let alone have to work with him. But I couldn't say no to Linnea. Even though she was my leader, she'd never made me feel beneath her. I still remembered my first day in the Silvermoon. Linnea had sent her as//sistant, Breccan, to pick me up from the airport and help me settle into a fully furnished apartment stocked with groceries and essentials—everything I'd need. He'd even picked me up for work the next day, introducing me to everyone like I was already part of the team. I'd felt more welcomed in one day than I had in years as Luna at the Duskfang Pack. By the end of that first day, I'd gotten three dinner invites. I knew then I'd made the right choice leaving a place where I was neither wanted nor needed. "Silvermoon takes care of its people," Linnea had told me over dinner that night, surrounded by colleagues who felt more like family. And she'd been right. When my baby bump started showing, my neighbor down the hall—Ms. Thessaly, a sweet older woman who lived alone—checked on me every other day. She brought home-cooked meals so I wouldn't have to cook after work. Everyone at the office had been incredible, too. They'd gotten me the comfiest chair so my back wouldn't hurt. They'd hired a mas//seuse "for stress relief," but I was the only one getting regular foot mas//sages for my swollen ankles. Linnea, Breccan, and Petra—another colleague—had helped me as//semble Orion's crib when my due date got close. On deliv//ery day, they'd all waited outside the hospital room. Afterward, they'd taken turns staying at my place, caring for me and Orion like we were family. They'd done more for me than Calix ever had—more than I'd ever thought possible. Leaving him had been the best decision of my life. But now, Calix was coming here. And I wasn't sure I was ready. That evening, Orion climbed onto my lap with his favorite storybook, demanding I read it again. I smiled when he giggled at his favorite part, but inside, my thoughts churned. I hadn't told anyone about Calix. Even my son. And now I was going to walk into a room and face the man who thought I was dead in the explosion. I hugged Orion closer, breathing in the scent of his shampoo. Whatever Calix thought he could do to me now, he'd learn soon enough that I wasn't the same woman who used to wait for scra//ps of affection. I was stronger. Bolder. And I wasn't alone. I had people who loved me—who'd shown me what real care felt like. Orion had grown up surrounded by that same love. I'd be da//mned if I let anyone take that away from us. *** Valora's POV The conference room smelled faintly of coffee and leather, with tall windows overlooking Silvermoon's skyline. I stood near the head of the table, reviewing notes for the presentation I'd practically memorized over the last two nights. I'd barely slept. Not from nerves about the project—but because I knew who would walk through that door. Before I could spiral for the hundredth time, the click of polished shoes on marble echoed down the hallway. I didn't have to look up to know it was him. Calix Duskfang had a presence that announced itself before he even entered a room. When the door opened, my breath caught despite every wall I'd built. He walked in flanked by two men I vaguely recognized—Garrick, his Beta, and Torben, his Gamma. Calix himself looked older. Harder around the edges but also worn, like someone who'd fought too many battles and won too few of them cleanly. The moment his eyes met mine, the air shifted. He stopped mid-step. For several seconds, no one spoke. Garrick started to greet the team but faltered when Calix's expression froze. I stood perfectly still, spine straight, hands clasped in front of me like I was hosting any other meeting. But inside, my pulse thundered. Old memories rushed back—the way he'd held me late at night after we'd made love, the rare lunches he'd taken me to, and then... the way his gaze had turned cold when he'd threatened our unborn child. I barely concealed the disgust flickering across my face as I met his stare. His voice came out low, rough, almost disbelieving. "Valora?" It wasn't a question. It was a ghost trying to confirm it wasn't hallucinating. Linnea stepped in to bridge the silence, smiling at Calix and his team. "Mr. Duskfang, welcome. This is Celestia Mooncrest, our Director of Client Relations. She'll be presenting the project plans." The name seemed to hit him like a blow. He blinked once, jaw tightening, but his gaze never left my face. I offered a cool, professional nod—every inch the woman who'd rebuilt her life from ashes. "Mr. Duskfang. Thank you for coming." My voice was steady, betraying none of the chaos inside. Calix's hands curled into fists at his sides. "Five years," he muttered, barely audible. But I caught it. I didn't replied, adjusting the papers in front of me like we weren't standing in the middle of the world's most charged reunion. "Shall we begin?" Linnea and the others busied themselves setting up, unaware of the storm brewing beneath the surface. Calix hadn't moved. He was still staring at me like I'd clawed my way out of a grave. Maybe I had. I wasn't the woman who'd waited for scra//ps of affection from a man who didn't give a da//mn about her. I wasn't the quiet, meek Luna who'd doubted her worth. Now, I was self-made. Independent. Someone people looked up to. Channeling every ounce of confidence I'd built, I clicked the remote. The first slide lit up the screen behind me. My voice came out even, steady, perfectly professional. Years of practice had trained me to separate emotion from work—but never had I needed that skill as desperately as I did now. "The Urban Renaissance project merges modern design with sustainable architecture, creating immersive commercial spaces across multiple cities—Silvermoon, Ironpeak, Ashford, and eventually, the Northern Territories." I gestured toward the slide, explaining phases, budgets, partnerships—trying and failing to ignore the weight of Calix's stare. He sat at the far end of the table, elbows resting on the armrests, eyes locked on me with an intensity that bvrned even though I wasn't looking directly at him. I knew I looked different. More confident. More alive than he'd ever seen me. There was no trace of the quiet woman who'd once waited for him to notice her. Garrick scribbled notes, occasionally asking questions about timelines. Torben nodded, impressed by the scope. I didn't think either of them realized who I was—or if they did, they didn't show it. Calix stayed silent. Every time I risked a glance, his gaze caught mine—heavy, unreadable. I continued, refusing to falter. "We project a twenty-five percent increase in client engagement within the first quarter. That grows exponentially with press coverage in collaboration with Duskfang Industries." "Impressive," Garrick murmured. "How soon could installation begin?" "Within two months of finalizing contracts," I answered smoothly, flipping to another slide. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Calix lean forward slightly. His voice came out deep, clipped. "What name are you using these days?" The question sliced through the room, silencing even Linnea. I kept my hands steady. "Celestia Mooncrest." A muscle in his jaw ticked. Linnea, oblivious to the tension, jumped in. "Of course, Celestia's name carries weight in Silvermoon's design scene. She's led three projects that received international recognition." Calix's gaze didn't leave mine. "I'm sure she has," he said, voice deceptively neutral. But his eyes promised a storm. I clicked to the final slide. "If there are no further questions, we can discuss contracts with legal teams this afternoon." No one spoke. I closed my laptop, my heart pounded so loud I wondered if everyone could hear it. I'd just stood in front of the man I once loved and I hadn't flinched. But as I gathered my notes and turned to leave, Calix's low murmur stopped me. "We're not done yet, Valora."

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🔥🔥🔥2026 HOTTEST NOVEL

If your ex thought you were dead for five years, then randomly spots you in a boardroom with a mini version of himself... what's your move? A. Hand over your business card like a boss B. Smile and go