Hudson’s POV
I tore down the main streets of Rue de Rivoli, swerving past traffic lights and heading for the upscale district, breaking at least half a dozen traffic laws.
My car screeched to a stop in front of the Hôtel Plaza Athénée. I jumped out, tossed the keys to the valet, and rushed past the smiling concierge who tried to greet .
Lea’s screams still echoed in my ears.
She had sounded terrified on the phone. There wasn’t ti to think—only act.
The elevator moved upward with agonizing slowness.
"Soone better be dying for us to leave Christina like this," Lycaon growled inside my head.
"She’ll be fine. She’s still mad about the prenup anyway," I responded silently.
When the doors finally opened, I stepped into a softly lit hallway, carpeted and decorated to tasteful perfection.
But no amount of ambient music or high-end fragrance could mask the drunken yelling or the stench of stale alcohol.
Pierre Marchand was pounding his fists against the door of room 602, knuckles bleeding onto his expensive shirt cuffs.
I grabbed his shoulders and spun him around.
Even flushed with rage and intoxicated, he still had that annoyingly perfect face: blue eyes, straight nose, thin lips, strong jaw.
His eyes were bloodshot. "Who the fuck are you?" he slurred.
I didn’t answer. I just maintained my grip so he couldn’t keep attacking the door.
"Let go of , asshole!" he roared, his breath reeking of whiskey and sothing chemical.
The elevator dinged behind . Fast, quiet footsteps approached.
"Alpha," one of my packmates said.
"Take him. Keep him contained. No phone calls," I ordered.
"Understood."
Pierre might have dabbled in fencing, but that wouldn’t help him against four shifters built for real combat, not gym selfies.
They dragged him into the elevator, still kicking and cursing.
I glanced at the security cara overhead. Red lights blinked back at .
Then I knocked. "Lea. It’s . Hudson."
The door flew open and Lea threw herself into my arms. "Hudson. Thank God you’re here! Is he—?" She was shaking.
"He’s gone." I stepped into the room behind her. "Tell what happened."
Lea collapsed onto the ottoman. The carpet around it was littered with crumpled tissues. Her face was blotchy, eyes raw from crying.
"I called him after you left," she admitted.
"When I specifically told you not to."
"I know. I’m sorry." She stared at the floor. "I just thought if I told him what you said—that if he really loved , he’d quit the drinking and drugs. And if he couldn’t, I’d leave. I didn’t realize he was already in Highrise City. I thought..." She buried her face in her hands. "I don’t know what I was thinking."
"You told him you were staying here?"
"I didn’t. But it didn’t take him long to find out. The hotel owner’s friends with his father." She gave a bitter smile. "That probably explains why security never ca when I called. I should be grateful they didn’t just give him a key."
"Pack your things."
"What?"
"You can’t stay here."
She stood up slowly. "But what about Pierre? Where is he?"
"Contained. For now. But I can’t keep him there long. The hotel knows I took him." I’d be hearing from the Marchand family soon.
Lycaon snorted. "Let them co. We’ll show them what happens when they challenge The Sabreridge pack."
She disappeared into the bathroom. When she returned, her face was washed, and she wore fresh clothes.
"Where are we going?"
I considered the options.
The Marchands had connections throughout the city that I couldn’t match. They were old pack, old power in Paris.
"What’s your decision?" I looked at her. "Still hoping for a reunion?"
If so, she wasn’t worth the risk. I couldn’t afford soone with that kind of vulnerability.
Lea gave a watery smile. "I might have been blind and in love, Hudson. But I’m not stupid. I’ve made my decision. I’m leaving him."
"For good?"
"For good."
"Then you’re coming to the Highrise City. He won’t touch you there."
She nodded. "What about work?"
I gave her a look. "You think I don’t know what goes on at Titanova? You don’t need an office for your job."
She laughed softly. "Fair enough."
I grabbed her suitcase and we checked out.
"Hope you had a pleasant stay. Where are you headed next?" the receptionist asked with a bright smile.
I stared at her until the smile disappeared. A flush spread over her cheeks. "I just ant, so I could arrange transportation."
"That won’t be necessary." I walked out with Lea.
"She probably has orders to track us," Lea said under her breath.
"I know."
Which was why I drove in circles through different districts until I was certain no one followed us.
We arrived at a quiet residential building just after ten.
I led her up to the seventh floor and unlocked the door. "I bought this building under another company na. Pierre won’t find you here."
"I should thank you, but I know you hate that," she said, looking around the apartnt. "So—hug?" She opened her arms.
I didn’t move. "Get so rest. Order room service if you want."
"You haven’t eaten either. Stay and share a al?"
"I can’t. In the morning, I’ll introduce you to my Luna."
"Your Luna?" She blinked. "Kylian ntioned it. I thought he was joking."
"He wasn’t."
"It’s just... hard to imagine you mated. Of all the guys from the old days, you were the least likely."
I wished Christina could have heard that. Maybe then she would understand why I insisted on the wedding. Without a formal, public ceremony, no one believed I had claid a mate.
"Goodnight. I’ll see you in the morning." I closed the door and took the stairs up to the next floor.
Christina was awake.
"How was the dress fitting?" I asked.
"Who is she?" she asked simultaneously.
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