Christina’s POV
"Eat sothing first." Niall used the serving spoon to heap a generous portion of seafood linguine onto my plate. "Look at you—you’ve lost weight. I don’t get it. He’s hurt you this badly. Why are you still with him? Is it just to spite ? Even if it is, hasn’t it gone on long enough?" He frowned, seemingly concerned.
"Cut the crap, Niall. I don’t have all day. If you’re not going to talk, I’m leaving." I glared at him.
"You always were stubborn." He sighed. "Look, I know I wasn’t a good mate. When I was with you, my heart belonged to Beatrice. I was cold to you. I admit all that. But it takes one to know one. And because I’ve been there, I understand what Hudson’s doing. His behavior regarding Genevieve speaks for itself. He’s hiding things from you for another woman. Whatever his reasons, whatever excuses he might have, the fact is, he lied to you. He betrayed you. How is that any different from when I was seeing Beatrice behind your back?"
I wanted to argue, to yell that Hudson wasn’t like him, that at least Hudson had never slapped .
But even to myself, it sounded weak.
Niall leaned forward. "When you truly love soone, you don’t hold back. It should be all or nothing. Like... like how you were with ."
I looked away, uncomfortable.
Being reminded of how much I’d once loved—no, worshipped—Niall was like revisiting my most embarrassing history. It just reminded what a complete idiot I’d been.
"It took a long ti to realize that," Niall said softly. "Christina, I truly regret what I did. Can’t we start over?"
I frowned at him. "Niall, what’s the point of all this? You know I don’t love you anymore. So don’t bother trying to talk into leaving Hudson for you. If that’s all you wanted, you’ve wasted your ti. I’m leaving." I stood up, ready to bolt.
"Your father," Niall blurted out.
I froze mid-step. "What about my father?"
"He’s not dead."
I stared at him in disbelief. "That’s impossible. He died of a heart attack. Hudson confird it himself."
"And Hudson wasn’t lying," Niall said, his voice dropping. "At least, not back then. But what if I told you your father faked his death?"
I sank back into my chair, my knees suddenly weak. "I don’t understand."
"Think about it," Niall continued. "Your father was an Alpha who ran The Crescent Pack for decades. He might not have had the power, but he still had connections. Faking a death isn’t that difficult when you have the right people in your pocket."
I leaned forward. "How do you know this?"
Niall gave a bitter smile. "You know my old man disowned ?"
I nodded.
"He’s fawning over his bastard son Daniel now. Doesn’t give a damn about . But at least my mother still checks if I’m breathing. I went back to see her, and I overheard my father talking about Franklin in his study."
"What exactly did you hear?" My heart was racing.
Niall shook his head. "Not everything. The door was thick. I couldn’t make out every word. Didn’t know who he was talking to—maybe on pack mind-link, maybe soone was with him. But I caught enough to know Franklin’s alive and in hiding."
"Where is he now?"
"No idea. I wanted to ask, but the old man wouldn’t even acknowledge my existence." He sneered. "Then Daniel ca upstairs and I had to leave."
My mind was spinning like a broken compass. My father was still alive?
"I thought you should know," Niall added. "Especially since you’re the reason he lost everything. I was worried he might co after you."
He wasn’t entirely wrong. It was Hudson who’d orchestrated Franklin’s downfall, but he’d only done it for .
"I don’t think that’ll happen," I said, though I wasn’t convinced.
Growing up, Franklin had barely acknowledged my existence. He’d always wanted a son, and when my mother only gave him daughters, he focused all his attention on Beatrice instead of .
Still, I refused to believe he’d actually want to hurt .
Niall said sothing else, but I’d stopped listening.
I knew who I should contact to verify this. If Franklin was really alive, the first person he’d reach out to would be my mother.
But I didn’t have her number anymore, and I had no idea where she was living now.
Besides, she despised . She’d never tell the truth even if I begged.
"Christina?" Niall’s voice grew louder, pulling from my thoughts.
"What?" I snapped.
"You okay?"
"I’m fine." Total lie.
I glanced at the food on my plate, but my appetite had vanished like my father apparently hadn’t. I asked for the bill and stood. "Thanks for telling . I have to go."
"I understand." This ti, Niall didn’t try to stop .
I didn’t return to the studio. My head was spinning with possibilities, and I needed to walk, to think.
I wandered aimlessly down the street, turning randomly, not stopping until I reached Highrise Park.
I sat on a bench facing the lake and watched the ducks gliding across the water.
My father was still alive?
I didn’t know what to feel.
He’d neglected as a child, tried to use my marriage as a business opportunity, basically tried to pimp out for connections. I hadn’t shed a single tear when I heard he’d died.
But still...
"Don’t let your guard down," Akira warned. "This news changes everything."
"Christina. What a surprise."
All thoughts of Franklin disappeared at the sound of that voice.
"She just doesn’t know when to quit," I muttered to myself, standing and turning to face Genevieve.
"I thought it was you," she said with that fake sweetness. "I had to get out of my car to be sure. What are you doing here? You look upset."
She looked absolutely thrilled about it.
Right now, I had zero energy for anyone, especially this mate-stealing wannabe Luna.
I turned to leave.
"Hey, have you thought more about our conversation?" she called after .
I lifted my hand behind my back and gave her the finger, not even bothering to look back.
Taking a random turn, I followed a tree-lined trail away from her, hoping to lose myself in the park.
But luck wasn’t on my side today. After a while, I found myself back at the lake, just further along the shore.
Genevieve was nowhere in sight, but the ducks were still there, dipping and diving.
I walked closer to the water’s edge, watching them. Were they mallards?
I patted my pockets out of habit, checking for sothing to feed them, though I never carried bread crumbs. Why would I?
I didn’t hear the footsteps behind .
Not until I felt a sudden, violent shove between my shoulder blades.
I stumbled forward.
I plunged headfirst into the cold, murky water.
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