Chapter 17
His voice was ruthless. Natalia trembled uncontrollably, too terrified to say a word.
When Dante finally let go, she watched his cold, determined figure walk away.
She collapsed to the ground, eyes full of panic and hatred.
“It’s over… everything’s over.”
She had planned for everything, except this. She hadn’t expected Dante to know that leaving would strip him of everything: his money, his position, his pack.
And he still chose to go!
.No. If Dante reached Crisantia, the agreement would take effect, and he’d be useless to her.
She had to make up with Rowan.
He might be an illegitimate child, but at least he was still better off than Dante who would be a
broke, disgraced Alpha with nothing left to his name.
Natalia acted quickly. She picked up her phone and called Rowan, her voice sweet and delicate:
“When are you coming back?
The next afternoon, Evelyn’s funeral was held under a gray, drizzling sky.
Rosalie and Silas carried Evelyn’s portrait into the hall. Many people had come to pay their respects.
Dante arrived in a rush. His beard was unshaven, his face weary and hollow. He looked like he had
aged ten years overnight.
Inside, he staggered toward the altar and dropped to his knees in front of Evelyn’s coffin.
“I’m sorry, Evelyn… I came too late…”
He choked out the words, his voice trembling: “I shouldn’t have indulged Natalia… I should’ve come to Crisantia to find you right away.”
“Evelyn… wake up, please? Just open your eyes… look at me…”
The guests around him were stunned.
Rosalie and Silas stood silently to the side, exchanging glances but saying nothing.
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Dante didn’t notice that among the crowd was a familiar figure.
A woman in a black dress and hat watched him coldly from a distance.
Beside her, Caden held an umbrella over her head.
He noticed Evelyn staring at Dante.
“Feeling sorry for him?” he asked.
Evelyn frowned and met Caden’s gaze, her voice icy: “I don’t feel sorry for him. I feel sorry for
myself.”
She hadn’t slept the night Natalia sent her that first smug voice message, but Dante had slept soundly beside Natalia that night.
On their fifth anniversary, her ‘celebration cake‘ was just a photo. A rejected cake Dante couldn’t
even be bothered to bring home.
She lay in a hospital bed after the crash, while he brought that woman into their home, slept in their
bed..
–
So tell her who deserved pity more than she did?
Caden looked away, then noticed the blank expression in her eyes.
“Want to leave?” he asked. “Get some air, Renata?”
Evelyn’s lips curled into a smile, a quiet triumph lighting her face.
“Sure.”
Just yesterday, she had finished registering her new identity.
Her name was now Renata Varnell.
A new life was beginning.
A month later, Rosalie and Silas publicly announced that their grand–niece, Renata Varnell, would
be taking over the company.
The news shocked every pack, big and small.
Back in Frosthaven, Dante had been spiraling ever since his return from Crisantia. He drank all day,
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mourning Evelyn’s photo, talking to it like she could hear him.
“Evelyn… You lied, didn’t you? You’re still alive, right? Please… come back…”
“I was wrong… I betrayed you. I never should’ve done that.”
While Dante spiraled into grief, the pack elders pulled out the agreement he’d signed five years ago.
They moved to strip him of his title and began the process of transferring his assets.
With Evelyn legally dead, everything was to go to Rosalie and Silas.
Rosalie didn’t show him any mercy. She emailed the elders: “List every damn thing under Dante’s name–the RV, the collectibles, whatever can be sold online. Cash it all out, don’t leave him a single thing.”
She wanted him to understand: A man who cherishes his wife will rise to power; a man who betrays her will lose everything.
“Alright, Luna.”
A week later, the pack elder arrived at the pack house.
He glanced at the man who had lost nearly sixty pounds, a flicker of surprise flashing in his eyes.
But only for a second, his expression quickly returned to normal.
“Dante,” the elder began, “according to Luna Rosalie’s orders, you are no longer permitted to enter the pack house. You must also sell off your other properties. Everything needs to be cleared
out.”
Before he could finish, Dante abruptly looked up, letting out a bitter laugh.
“You want me to move out, huh? Evelyn’s gone. There’s nothing of hers left in the pack house anymore. There’s no reason for me to stay.”
He staggered as he stepped outside. With concern, Thorne quickly followed.
Lately, Dante had been drinking heavily, consumed by grief. He barely slept. Only took one or two hours a day for sleeping at most.
At his lowest, he’d even tried drinking wolfsbane.
So it was no surprise that before he could leave the garden, he collapsed again.
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