Chapter 21
Samuel’s POV
My throat tightened as I swallowed hard.
It’s true–back in that past life, Larissa and I made it through half a lifetime together, peaceful on the surface. But the truth? I’d faked my death to be with her. And with that single decision, I lost everything: my place as heir to the Windrow family, my title as future Gamma, and every bit of wealth and status that once surrounded me.
My savings vanished faster than I could earn them back. Her stepmother loathed us, and the Turners? They had nothing to offer. We
were on our own.
Me–Samuel Windrow–once destined for
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power, prestige, and a life of effortless comfort… reduced to a nameless nobody working on construction sites just to survive. Larissa got a job waitressing, and we scraped by. Gone were the luxuries. Gone was the honor. We became nothing but ordinary.
That kind of life wasn’t just hard. It was humiliating.
This wasn’t the future I’d imagined. How could I, of all people, fade into mediocrity?
But by then, it was too late. I couldn’t go back. The fake death sealed my fate. Alpha Godfrey would’ve ripped me to pieces if I ever showed my face again. So I stayed with Larissa. Trapped.
Until I ran into Felicia again. That one chance meeting in our later years flipped everything.
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I still remember that day like it was yesterday. A gang of rogue wolves cornered her, and I… I stepped in without thinking. Risked everything to protect her. I didn’t care if someone recognized me. For that one moment, I wasn’t a broken man. I was who I was meant to be.
And in that moment, I knew–if I lived, Felicia would never hate me. And if I died? Then maybe, finally, I’d escape the suffocating life Larissa had dragged me into.
But fate had other plans. I got another shot.
Another life.
This time, I wasn’t going to make the same mistake. I used my position as Windrow’s heir to marry Larissa first, thinking maybe this way, we wouldn’t end up penniless.
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Maybe I could rewrite the story.
But then I found out what she’d done. The lies, the manipulations. I saw what Felicia had suffered because of me. And I remembered… remembered who truly made my heart race all those years ago.
It was never Larissa.
It was Felicia.
And the more I tried to suppress that truth, the more it clawed at my chest, demanding to be felt.
I clenched my fists, jaw tight. I couldn’t even look at Larissa anymore. I didn’t answer her desperate questions–I didn’t owe her that.
I turned on my heel and walked out, slamming the door behind me.
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Enough pretending.
I gave the order that very night: her medication, stopped. Her meals, cut off. Even the maids–I sent them all away. If she insisted on staying in Windrow House, then fine. I’d make her leave another way.
By day three, something finally happened.
Larissa’s POV
No one came to change my bandages.
The wound hadn’t been that serious at first, but it got worse. No food either. My stomach was empty, aching. I had to drag myself out of bed just to find something–anything–to eat. But the meals, if you could even call
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them that, were tasteless and weak. No real nutrition. I kept getting sicker, weaker. It didn’t take long before everything went dark and I collapsed to the cold, hard floor.
I thought maybe Samuel would show a hint of concern.
But when he heard I’d passed out, he only gave a vague, indifferent reply. He didn’t send anyone. Didn’t check in. Nothing.
When I finally came to, I was still lying on that icy floor. The room was pitch–black, and my body felt like it had been plunged into freezing water. That’s when it hit me.
Samuel had made up his mind–he wanted me gone.
If I stayed here, I’d rot. I could die right in front of him, and he wouldn’t so much as
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blink. Hell, he might even feel relieved.
But why? Why the hell did it have to be like this?
I wasn’t the one who screwed up. This wasn’t my fault. If it hadn’t been for Felicia… If it hadn’t been for Samuel…
Tears slid down my cheeks as I lay there on the ground, my fingers curling into fists so tight my nails sliced into my palms. Blood welled up in crescent shapes, sharp and
angry.
Finally, my voice raw and broken, I dragged myself to the door and knocked weakly.
“I agree to the divorce,” I rasped.
He came quickly, like he’d been waiting just outside the whole damn time.
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Samuel stood there with a pack of his people, calm as ever, towering over me with those cold eyes of his. I glared at him with all the hate in my soul, but he didn’t flinch.
He dropped a stack of papers in front of me -the divorce agreement, already prepared. He didn’t even pretend to be sorry.
“I should’ve left you with nothing,” he said, like it was a favor. “But for the sake of what we had, I’ll give you a hundred thousand dollars as compensation.”
I didn’t say a word. Just laughed–sharp, bitter. Like hell I had a choice.
Two werewolf guards grabbed my arms and forced my hand to sign it. And just like that, it was over.
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Samuel and I–done.
Now I’d be sent back to the Turner house, back to my stepmother’s cruelty, back to my sister’s endless commands. And as for my future? No powerful man would ever want a ruined woman like me. At best, I’d be someone’s mistress–if that.
No. I couldn’t accept this. Why did I come back from the dead just to lose everything?
My whole body trembled, but Samuel didn’t give a damn. He had the divorce papers now. He could finally go crawling back to Felicia.
He was already heading for the door when I moved.
From inside my coat, I pulled out a silver dagger.
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My grip was steady. My aim was true.
I lunged.
“Samuel,” I snarled, eyes burning with fury, “go to hell!”
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