Chapter 12 #2
Back in my office, I closed the door, walked to the liquor cabinet, and pulled out a bottle of Macallan.
Father's favorite brand.
I poured a glass and drained it. Then poured another.
The whiskey burned a line of fire from my throat to my stomach. That searing pain cleared my thoughts somewhat, letting certain long-suppressed ideas surface.
Father's obsession had passed to me like a hereditary disease. Carved into my bones, mixed into my blood. The moment I thought of defying it, memory dragged me back to that day when I was ten.
His twisted eyes still haunted me. After the first time with Layla. When she exposed us as fated mates in front of everyone. When all those eyes bore into me, Father—he must have been watching from the shadows, through his assistant, through the messenger's eyes, watching me!
Blood seemed to soak through my shoulder again. Dizzy, I felt tears—Father's scalding tears falling on my face. I was his son. I inherited his will. I had to—
"I, Kayden Blackwood, reject Layla Gray as my mate."
Tears. But this time not a hallucination. Real tears, rolling down my face. I stiffly raised my hand, wiped away the wetness.
From ten to twenty-seven, I'd obeyed Father. Even as I struggled inside, urging myself to resist, to rebel, to prove him wrong—"I'm your father! I wouldn't hurt you!"
That sentence had trapped me for half my life.
But Father, I've become just like you.
I covered my face with both hands. Tears and laughter spilled through my fingers together, like that mad man in my memory—clutching Mother's headstone, pathetically laughing and crying like a child who'd done something terribly wrong and could never make it right.
He really hadn't meant to hurt me. He just didn't know what love was anymore.
So what is love?
I didn't know either. But when I thought of love, I thought of her.
I leaned back in my chair, staring up at the brilliant chandelier in the ceiling's center. Beautiful lights. Gorgeous, expensive, fragile.
I stared at that brightness until my mind went blank.
Pack, grudges, agonizing promises—all of it faded. My eyes stung from the light, but my heart grew clear as my vision blurred. I remembered seeing that child.
In the hospital corridor. Layla holding Kai. I saw his black hair. I remembered those silver eyes that flashed by. No—most important was how she looked at Kai.
A mother's gaze. What a family looked like.
The family I'd never had.
But you hurt her again today, didn't you?
My wolf started questioning, slamming furiously against that transparent wall.
Yes. Again. I'm such a fucking idiot.
I'd seen her waver. Seen tears welling in her eyes. My Layla was about to give me a new chance—at least let me tell her how much I missed her, let me admit my mistakes. Maybe we could have had a new possibility. Success was one step away—
Then it was gone, Kayden.
My consciousness grew hazy with alcohol. Countless fragments of time with Layla flashed through my mind. When did I close my eyes?
I couldn't remember. Infinite exhaustion dragged me into darkness.
I don't know how long passed.
Urgent knocking. I frowned, waking from my hungover sleep, head still thick with fog.
"Come in." My voice came out hoarse. I checked my phone—twelve hours had passed.
Evan burst through the door, face white as a ghost. "Alpha!" He gasped, thrusting a tablet at me. "Something happened! Miss Gray... the news... It's everywhere!"
I took the tablet and saw the glaring red headline.
Then the whole world stopped.
"EXCLUSIVE! Famous Jewelry Designer Ella Ross Suspected of Multiple Affairs! Photos Exposed!"
My finger scrolled across the screen. Photos appeared one by one.
Layla with... different men?
Someone's arm around her shoulder. Someone holding her hand.
And this one...
Who the fuck is this?
My wolf roared deep inside. Its rationality was consumed instantly by jealousy and rage.
What right did they have to touch her?
"The photos were deliberately shot from misleading angles," Evan spoke rapidly. "All mainstream media are reposting. The text is inflammatory. It exploded overnight. This is clearly an organized attack."
My breathing steadied slightly. Jealousy subsided, anger surged.
Someone was trying to destroy her.
"But these two..." Evan's voice dropped lower as he scrolled to the next photo.
Outside the banquet hall restroom. Me pinning Layla against the wall. Our faces were so close we looked ready to kiss. From this angle, with this lighting... it really did look like an affair.
"And this one."
Yesterday, outside the coffee shop. Me gripping her arm, tears in my eyes. She was crying too. That diary between us.
If these photos weren't secretly taken, weren't exposed with such malice, I might have actually praised the photographer's skill. They were hauntingly beautiful.
"Fuck." I cursed under my breath and kept reading.
The article text was damning.
"According to sources, Ella Ross has maintained ambiguous relationships with multiple married men..."
"Kayden Blackwood went so far as to acquire her partner company in pursuit of Ella Ross..."
"Allegedly, Kayden Blackwood already has a fiancée..."
I shot to my feet. The glass hit the floor, amber liquid and shards exploding everywhere.
"Comments." My voice was dangerously cold. "Show me the comments."
Evan hesitated, then scrolled to the comment section.
Vicious words flooded the screen:
"Ella Ross is a homewrecker? I used to follow her studio..."
"Shameless bitch, destroying marriages and acting so righteous!"
"Boycott Ella Ross! Get out of Baltimore!"
Comment after comment. Endless. Like locusts. Like snakes. Overwhelming.
My hand clenched the tablet. Cracks began spreading across the screen's edge.
"Alpha!" Evan looked at me with concern. "There's worse..."
"Say it."
"Miss Ross's partners... they're holding emergency board meetings." Evan's voice went quiet. "Stock prices are affected. They're... They want Miss Ross to pay damages."
"How much?"
"Current tally... four million in reputational damages, plus breach of contract penalties..."
"Nine million eight hundred thousand total." The words ground through my teeth. I threw the tablet on the desk. The glass shattered completely.
"Contact PR immediately. Suppress this nationwide. Especially clarify my relationship with Victoria. Redirect media attention." I fired off orders. "Find the source of the leak. Have legal prepare to sue."
"Yes."
I grabbed my coat and strode toward the door.
"Where are you going?"
"To her."
Pack, Father, duty... nothing would stop me from reaching her now. No more hesitation.
I would stand firmly by her side. She was my only answer.
The car tore through the streets. My hands gripped the wheel so tight my veins stood out. Those vicious comments kept replaying in my head.
Evan had already tracked Layla's location—her studio. She must be drowning in this mess.
Faster. Come on, faster. Kayden, get to her.
I'd lost count of how many red lights I'd run. I pressed the accelerator harder. The engine roared as I pushed the speed to the limit.
This was all my fault.
If not for me, she wouldn't be caught in this storm. She could still live peacefully. She wouldn't suffer for me again. She didn't need me—I was the one who stubbornly needed her. After losing her, I'd lost all color. I was the one begging her to love me again. And I'd destroyed her life.
Again.
The car screeched to a halt outside the studio, tires shrieking against pavement.
I shoved the door open—
Layla stood at the studio entrance, about to leave. Several men surrounded her, swaying drunk.
"Ella Ross?" one of them said, voice dripping with obscenity. "So you're the homewrecker."
"Pretty hot though." Another looked her up and down, gaze crawling over her body. "No wonder you hooked up with Blackwood."
"Wanna try with us?" The third reached for her face. "Maybe we're better than those rich guys..."
Layla jerked back, but hit the wall. Trapped.
My blood boiled instantly. Gold burned in my eyes. My wolf raged, ready to tear through every restraint, lunge forward, and rip out their throats. I couldn't control it—my mouth opened, fangs beginning to shift.
How dare they...
How dare they touch her...
Protect your mate... tear them to pieces!
I was about to charge forward, but a tall figure moved faster.