Cecilia’s pov
The knock on the door was sharp and insistent.
I didn’t have to look through the peephole to know who it was—my chest tightened the mont I sensed him.
Alpha Xavier.
Harper caught my gaze, her jaw set. Without a word, she reached down and slipped my phone beneath the sofa cushion, her movents brisk, purposeful. The tiny click of the recording app still echoed in my head even after she straightened up.
"Stay put," she whispered, her eyes flicking to before she crossed the room.
I sat rigid on the sofa, heart hamring, every muscle braced.
When Harper opened the door, Xavier pushed his way inside without hesitation, his presence flooding the apartnt like a storm.
"Cecilia..." His voice carried straight to , low and raw, his gaze locking on where I sat.
He took a step forward, and I could feel the weight of it in my chest.
"I didn’t know about what happened this morning," he said, each word clipped, like they’d been scraped out of him.
I forced my expression to stay calm, though inside, every nerve was screaming. The recorder was running. That was the only thing keeping steady.
"And?" I replied coolly. "What exactly did you co here to say?"
Xavier sat down beside on the sofa, his familiar cedar scent washing over .
Without hesitation, I rose and moved to sit opposite him, creating a physical barrier between us—just as I’d been creating emotional ones since discovering his betrayal.
Xavier’s jaw tightened at my rejection, the Alpha in him was clearly displeased by my dismissal.
"I’ll issue a personal statent tomorrow," he finally said, "explaining everything that happened today."
I arched an eyebrow. "Explain? How exactly do you plan to explain this? Will you contradict the false accusations your mother fabricated? Or will you admit to your affair with Cici?"
The silence that followed was heavy with unspoken truths.
"That kind of ambiguous explanation will only confuse people and generate even more speculation," I said, voicing what I knew he was thinking. "You’ve always been brave enough to make mistakes, Xavier, but never brave enough to own them."
Xavier leaned forward, his posture dominant—a classic Alpha move designed to intimidate. "If we reconcile, given enough ti, those rumors and speculations will naturally disappear."
A cold laugh escaped . "Your affair with Cici isn’t a rumor. The filth your mother tried to sar on my reputation—that’s the rumor. Either tell the complete truth, or say nothing at all."
My challenge left him speechless. Like most wolves, he was instinctively drawn to protect his reputation and status within the pack.
Admitting to his betrayal publicly would undermine his standing as Alpha.
Harper, who had been listening silently, casually interjected, "So, Xavier, from what you’re saying, you’re acknowledging that Luna Dora’s accusations against Cecilia this morning were completely fabricated?"
Xavier’s dark eyes shifted to her, forest-like and stormy. Sothing flickered across his face—knowledge he didn’t want to reveal—but he nodded reluctantly. "Yes."
"Your mother was nearly imprisoned because of Cici’s sches, yet now she’s speaking in her favor. Don’t you find that strange?" Harper pressed. "Could the Shadow Pack be behind this? Or more specifically, could Cici be orchestrating it all?"
"Perhaps," he admitted. "It’s all possible. I don’t know."
"So you’re acknowledging this is the most likely scenario?"
"...Yes."
"So to summarize," Harper continued smoothly, "your mistress Cici was publicly shad because of that airport video that went viral. Seeking revenge and wanting to clear her na, she either threatened or bribed your mother. Together, they fabricated these damaging rumors about Cecilia, using your mother as the mouthpiece to simultaneously clear Cici’s na while saring Cecilia’s reputation. Is that correct?"
"...It is," Xavier sighed deeply before raising his hand to stop Harper’s next question. "Counselor Harper, I believe you’ve recorded enough evidence for your purposes."
Harper’s expression turned sheepish. She’d been caught.
I wasn’t surprised Xavier had noticed—he wasn’t Blood Moon Pack’s Alpha for nothing. His senses were sharp, his mind equally so. What shocked was his willingness to be recorded, to provide evidence against his mother and his lover.
[He’s trying to earn forgiveness.] I studied Xavier, conflicting emotions swirling within .
Eight years together, four as secret mates, and this was what remained between us—strategic maneuvers and recorded confessions.
"Let’s end this, Xavier," I said finally.
"If we don’t end this properly, Cici will never let go," I continued, eting his gaze directly. "Today she manipulated your mother into slandering . What will it be tomorrow? The day after? You may not be killing directly, but I’m dying because of you all the sa."
I took a deep breath, steeling myself. "Whether you truly regret what happened or still have feelings for , a mistake is a mistake. We can never go back to how things were. What’s the point of the three of us remaining entangled like this?"
"Once we’re officially done, she’ll have no reason to keep coming after . Whatever happens between you two afterward will have nothing to do with ."
"Think about it," I finished, my words devoid of emotion.
Unlike his previous protests, Xavier remained silent. He stayed at Harper’s place for a long while. When he finally left, he hadn’t stated whether he agreed or still disagreed with the divorce. He only said to contact him if we needed him to make a joint statent.
Xavier’s unexpected cooperation left Harper and sowhat bewildered. We’d prepared for a battle and loaded our weapons, only for a key enemy to defect before we’d even fired a shot.
"What should we do? Still go with the original plan?" Harper asked, her expression conflicted. I could tell she was softening toward Xavier, which was why she was deferring the decision to .
I sat in contemplation, then glanced at the darkening sky outside the window. "I’m hungry. Let’s have dinner first."
Harper looked at incredulously. "Really? Food at a ti like this?"
"Yes," I replied simply.
Harper shook her head, amused despite herself. "Fine. Dinner first."
...
At ten o’clock that night, a pinned reply appeared on the Shadow Pack’s official website, right beneath Luna Dora’s morning statent.
It was from —a video response where I confronted the accusations head-on.
The internet exploded instantly.
Users frantically shared the video, gathering like pack mbers around a fresh kill, eagerly devouring the drama unfolding between two powerful wolf families.
In the video, I appeared elegant and composed.
My voice stayed calm and gentle as I told the story of Xavier and —how we fell in love, how we faced many challenges to get married, and how Cici eventually ca between us.
My hands stayed folded on the table, steady, even though a part of wanted to clench them into fists. I kept my tone even, not just for the audience—but for myself. I couldn’t afford to let emotion cloud the facts.
I didn’t rush to deny Luna Dora’s accusations. Instead of being aggressive, I focused on facts that mattered.
There was no need for shouting or finger-pointing. The truth had more weight than any outrage I could fake.
I said that Xavier and I t in high school, which made it clear we connected during our teenage years.
I described the nervous smiles, the shared books, the late-night phone calls—details that painted a picture of young love anyone could believe in.
I didn’t directly deny the claim about a childhood engagent, but I asked a simple question: why would an 18-year-old boy chase after a girl still in elentary school?
A quiet laugh slipped from my lips as I posed the question, letting the audience draw their own conclusions. Sotis, disbelief worked better than denial.
When I talked about the hard tis we went through to get married, I hinted that Luna Dora had never liked and had always treated harshly.
I didn’t need to call her cruel outright. My words were careful, almost reluctant—like soone trying not to speak ill of their in-laws, but failing. The ssage landed anyway.
I also pointed out that the cooperation with the Shadow Pack only started recently. That didn’t match her story that our families had been close enough for an arranged marriage when we were children.
The tiline didn’t lie, and neither did the dates on the contracts. I let the facts speak where emotions might have been twisted.
After sharing our story, I presented real evidence to fight back against her lies.
I took a breath, reached into the folder beside , and laid the truth out piece by piece. No drama, no theatrics—just cold, clear facts.
I showed chat logs, voice recordings, and photos—solid proof.
I explained the full truth about the money settlent. It wasn’t blackmail, like she claid. It was a deal we made after she found out her son had been unfaithful.
The screenshots showed tistamps and signatures. The audio played her voice, bitter but resigned, agreeing to the terms. It was all there—undeniable.
As for her accusation about being in a hotel with another man, I revealed that she had deleted the second half of the hallway video.
But I had the footage showing leaving through the main entrance just nine minutes later.
My final piece of evidence was Xavier’s own words. He had admitted that his mother’s claims were false.
His voice, low and tired, played through the speakers. "She made it up. All of it." That sentence hit harder than any accusation I could’ve thrown.
Even after all that, I chose not to show the worst things I had—like shocking voice recordings and private photos from our bedroom.
I wanted to protect Xavier’s last bit of dignity.
It would’ve been easy to burn him with the truth. But I wasn’t here for revenge. I was here for clarity.
Once the truth ca out, public opinion exploded again.
The internet caught fire. Comnts flooded in. So people apologized. So just watched in silence. But the tide had turned, and this ti, it turned in my favor.
And ? After finishing what had to be done, I went ho, packed a small bag, and at eleven that night, I drove away from Denver.
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