And now, the real revenge begins.
Chapter 7
Inside the Silver Moon Consortium’s secret laboratory, I stared at my mother’s medical report and pathology analysis. A cold chill crept through my chest!
A Luna with the purest moont–wolf bloodline. A princess of the Silver Moon Pack. How could someone like her be so easily brought down by “Wolfsbane“? She should’ve had a powerful healing ability–strong enough to recover even from poisoning. And yet, she was bedridden for months, her body weakening day by day, until a single letter killed her in rage and heartbreak
“Grandma,” I said, my voice trembling as I handed her the report, “the pathology results show that the toxin from the Wolfsbane in my mother’s system was repeatedly reactivated by a specific compound. Her natural healing was deliberately suppressed.“8
My grandmother’s face darkened as she took the report, brows knitting tightly. “To do something like this… it would require someone extremely familiar with Wolfsbane. And someone with long–term contact to your mother
In an instant, a face flashed across my mind–Damian.X
My so–called father
As the Alpha, he controlled the pack’s medicinal stores and had unrestricted contact to my mother. I used to think he merely didn’t love her. I even blamed her for his eventual departure
But now, looking back, the scent of gardenias on him… Maya’s face–so eerily similar to her dead mother… the way he treated her with such tender affection… It had all been right there. And I had never seen it.
“It was him, wasn’t it?” Grandma’s eyes gleamed sharply, her voice like ice.
I closed my eyes and nodded slowly.
The man I once looked up to as Alpha had not only betrayed my mother but murdered her with his own hands.
Silence fell between my grandmother and me, but the fury buming in both our eyes was enough to speak volumes.
Just then, the secretary knocked and entered.
“Miss Schultz, Mr. Logan is downstairs. He insists on seeing you and says it’s urgent.”
The fire inside me flared to life again.
He dared to show his face here again?
A few minutes later, Logan stepped into the office. He looked even more disheveled than before–his eyes were bloodshot, his clothes wrinkled, and in his hand, he clutched a medical report with white knuckled fingers. When he saw me, his eyes flickered with a complex mess of emotions: shock, regret and something disturbingly close to joy.
“Amalia!” He rushed forward and thrust the report toward me, voice shaking. “I found this at home–your… your pregnancy You’re pregnant, Amalia! It’s our child!”
I stared at the report. The words ‘early pregnancy were printed clearly at the top.
That day, I had planned to surprise him. But instead, he beat me so severely for Maya’s sake that I lost the baby.
y test result!
“Amalia, I know I messed up. I’m a bastard,” Logan dropped to his knees, tears streaming down his face. “I’ll make it right-
make
everything right. I’ll give you everything–my company, Moran Technologies–as a wedding gift. Just come back to me. Let’s raise our baby together!”
Our baby? Make it right?
How could he say those words easily?
How dare he?10
The child–my child–had been ripped from me before they could even feel the warmth of this world. And it was his hands that did it! “No,” I said coldly, each syllable cutting like ice.
He looked up, clinging to hope. “Amalia, please. I know I was wrong. Just give me one more-”
I cut him off, my voice likela whisper from the depths of hell.
“You don’t have to make amends. Because my baby–your child–was already gone the moment you forced me to kneel and apologize to Maya. You beat me until I miscarried.”
Logan froze. The report slipped from his hand and fell to the floor.
He looked at me, eyes
wide in disbelief. His lips trembled, but no words came out.
“Amalia what what did you say?” His voice was hoarse, broken, barely a whisper.
“I said,” I repeated slowly, clearly, “you killed your child with your own hands.”
His breathing turned erratic. He clutched his chest, face tuming ghastly pale. He stumbled back a few steps, then collapsed onto the floor with a guttural cry of pain.
“No… No… That’s not possible… My child…” he whispered, tears silently streaming down his face.
My grandparents stood by without saying a word, only watching.
“Now do you understand?” I said, my voice was cold and calm. “There’s no future for us. Not anymore. From this moment on, we’re completely done.”
Logan looked up, eyes filled with unbearable sorrow. But he no longer had the right to ask for anything
He rose to his feet, trembling, and gave me one last look–haunted and hollow–before turning away. Step by step, he walked out of the Silver Moon Consortium’s office, his figure hunched and broken like a puppet with its strings cut!
I watched him go, feeling nothing. Not even rage.
Because my child, my mother, and all the pain Fd endured–none of it could ever be erased by a few pathetic apologies.
