BILLIE’S POV

“Take it,” Ethan said coldly as he slid the envelope across the polished table. I stared at it, frozen.

“Five million dollars? For what, sweetheart?” My voice barely rose above a whisper, trembling with disbelief.

Evan’s gaze was steady, unreadable. “A separation pay,” he said calmly. “Effective today, you are no longer the designer of Collins Fine Jewelry. Once you leave this building, you are gone from this place forever.”

The paper felt impossibly heavy in my hands. I had thought we were moving forward together. I thought he would introduce me to his family. He had promised me a life I had dreamed of for so long.

Just last night we had been in bed, celebrating his business success. He had promised me everything I ever wanted in the world. Marriage, a beautiful life with the man I loved, for the first time in my life. And now he simply handed me this cheque, as if it could erase everything.

The cheque was a cold shock to my chest. I could barely comprehend it, and for a moment my fists tightened instinctively, though I forced myself to stay still.

“Tell me this is some kind of joke,” I murmured, struggling to make sense of it.

“Joke?” His voice was smooth and cold. “Do not be naive, Billie.”

I pressed my hands to my face, my chest tightening. “Evan, you said we were fated mates. You promised to introduce me to your family. Was it all a lie?”

“You are human,” he said evenly. “You cannot be the mate of a werewolf, especially a future Alpha.”

“Cannot be?” I asked him and shook my head.

“Evan, I accepted you even though I knew the truth that you were a werewolf. Because It doesn’t matter at all, right?”

I stared at him, my mind spinning. Everything I thought I knew, everything I believed, felt suddenly distant, like a dream I could no longer reach.

“Leave,” he said as his eyes turned green.

“I do not understand,” I whispered, my voice barely audible.

“I used you, Billie,” he said quietly and almost dispassionately. “For pleasure. For business. For money. And now I am done. You are nothing to me.”

“So is it all really a lie? Huh?” I asked him.

“Yes. Billie Jones, I rejected you as my mate so now, leave!”

The cheque remained in my hands. I could not move. I could not speak. My mind was a whirlwind of confusion and disbelief. The ache of betrayal was sharp in my chest.

Then a voice pulled me back from the haze.

“Hey, Billie, are you done? I’m sorry but Mr and Mrs. Boston are waiting for us. I don’t want to be late,” Ethan called, knocking on my office door.

“Alright. I’m done. Wait for me outside,” I responded.

“Okay, I’ll wait,” he said, and I heard his footsteps leaving the doorway.

My God. Six years had passed, yet that voice, that moment, replayed in my mind, making my heart beat faster and threatening to ruin my entire day.

I exhaled slowly, pressing my palms against the edge of the sink as I stared at my reflection. Six years… and somehow, it still felt like yesterday.

“Not today,” I whispered to myself, my voice steadier this time. “You don’t get to ruin this day again, Billie”

I straightened my shoulders, wiping away the faint trace of emotion in my eyes. The woman staring back at me wasn’t the same Billie who once stood frozen, clutching a cheque like it was the price of her worth. No… that version of me was gone.

I walked out of my office, my heels clicking against the marble floor, each step deliberate. Controlled.

Ethan was already by the car, just as patient as ever. When he saw me, his expression softened, not with pity, never pity, but with something warm… something safe.

“Ready?” he asked.

I gave him a small nod. “I'm more than ready.”

And just like always, he opened the door for me. Such a simple gesture… but it never felt small.

The drive was filled with his usual optimism. Ethan had this way of making everything feel possible, like the world wasn’t as heavy as I sometimes made it out to be.

“We’re going to nail this, Billie,” he said with a confident grin. “I can feel it.”

I glanced at him, a faint smile forming. “You always say that.”

“And I’m always right,” he shot back playfully.

I shook my head, but for a moment… I let myself enjoy it. The lightness. The ease.

A few moments later, the car came to a smooth stop in front of the restaurant. Ethan opened the door for me as he always did, his hand steady and reassuring.

The evening air brushed against my skin, crisp and calming. I took a deep breath, straightened my shoulders, and stepped out, heels clicking against the pavement.

Across the patio, I spotted them, Mr. and Mrs. Boston already seated at a table bathed in warm golden light. They looked up as we approached, smiles forming immediately.

Ethan fell into step beside me. “Ready?” he asked quietly.

I nodded. “Always.”

We reached the table, and introductions began.

“Mr. and Mrs. Boston,” Ethan greeted, extending his hand.

They shook hands politely.

“Richard Boston,” he said.

“Ethan Winston,” Ethan replied smoothly.

“And this is…”

“Billie Jones, Winston Luxury Goods Designer,” I said, stepping forward and offering my hand.

Mr. Boston’s grip was firm, respectful. “A pleasure.”

Mrs. Boston stood, smiling warmly. “I’m Eleanor Boston. We’ve heard quite a bit about you, Ms. Jones.”

I smiled faintly. “I only hope for good things, Mrs. Boston.”

Ethan chuckled softly. “Only the best,” he added.

We all took our seats, menus handed over, and the waiter approached to take our orders.

“I’ll have the filet mignon, medium, please,” Mrs. Boston said.

“The truffle pasta,” I added, glancing at Ethan.

Ethan ordered his grilled salmon, and Mr. Boston chose the ribeye.

As the waiter left, Mr. Boston leaned back slightly, a playful glint in his eyes. “You two seem… perfect together,” he said, his tone teasing. “We almost thought you were in a relationship.”

I laughed softly, shaking my head. “Oh no, we’re just very good friends.”

Mrs. Boston smiled knowingly. “But surely, Ms. Jones… you must think about it? Ethan seems like a good man. A kind, genuine man. Someone your son could call a father.”

I felt a faint heat rise to my cheeks but kept my tone calm. “Travis is only five, and I don’t have any plans for a relationship right now. He’s happy, content, and I’m focused on being his mother, Mrs. Boston.”

They exchanged a glance and chuckled. “We were just teasing,” Mr. Boston said. “We didn’t mean to offend you.”

I laughed, letting the moment pass easily. “Nothing to take seriously, Mr. Boston. I don’t take it seriously.”

Ethan smiled quietly at me, the corner of his mouth tugging up in that small, private way only I noticed.

With the playful tension behind us, I reached for my portfolio, placing it carefully on the table. My fingers lingered on the edge for just a moment longer, not from hesitation, but from anticipation.

“Anyway, here is my design for your dream watch,” I said as I opened the envelope and showed my sketch.

“This design,” I began, my voice calm but confident, “is not just a watch. It’s a reflection of twenty-five years of marriage, endurance, devotion, and the beauty of shared time.”

They leaned in slightly, curiosity sparking in their eyes.

“The casing is crafted from platinum,” I continued, pointing to the rendering. “Durable, strong… like a bond that withstands life’s challenges.”

“The dial features twenty-five subtle markers along the inner rim,” I said, letting my finger trace them gently. “Each represents a year of your journey together.”

Mrs. Boston’s eyes softened, glancing at her husband. He nodded ever so slightly, focused.

“And the hands,” I added, my tone softening just a bit, “are shaped to meet at the center in continuous motion. No matter how far they move, they always return to each other.”

They were silent, absorbing every detail.

“And on the back casing,” I said, sliding the rendering closer, “there’s a private engraving. Something personal. Something only the two of you will ever see. A reminder of the love you’ve nurtured over time.”

Mrs. Boston’s fingers hovered above the portfolio as if afraid to touch it. “It’s… beautiful,” she whispered.

Mr. Boston studied it quietly, then slowly nodded. “You’ve captured more than design. You’ve captured the essence of marriage.”

A warmth spread through me, not pride, but validation. This was mine, earned.

The waiter arrived with our food, but for a moment, it went untouched. The design had already been spoken.

Mr. Boston exchanged a glance with his wife. “We’ll take it,” he said decisively.

Ethan gave me a small nod, sliding the agreement forward. I watched them sign it, ten million dollars sealed with ink.

Dinner followed, lighter now, filled with laughter and easy conversation. Mr. and Mrs. Boston teased us gently a few more times, making jokes about future family adventures, but I laughed with them, letting the warmth of the moment wash over me.

When it was time to leave, Mr. Boston extended his hand again. “A remarkable presentation, Miss Jones.”

I shook it firmly. “Thank you, Mr. Boston.”

Mrs. Boston smiled, placing her hand briefly over mine. “You’ve given us more than a design tonight. You’ve reminded us why love lasts.”

I met her gaze, letting the sincerity settle. “I’m glad.”

We watched them leave together, side by side, hands finding each other naturally. The night air felt crisp as we stepped outside and I glanced at Ethan.

“We did it,” I whispered, more to myself than to him.

He gave me that small, reassuring smile. “I knew it.”

And I believed it too.

Ethan gave me a small, “Congratulations,” he said once we were inside. “Ten million dollars, Billie. That calls for a drink.”

I shook my head, smiling. “I don’t usually drink… you know that.”

He gave me that playful look I’d grown familiar with over the years, the one that quietly dared me. “Just one bottle. One. For celebration.”

I laughed, but I nodded. “Fine. One bottle. Just to make you happy.”

He grinned, clearly pleased.

We found a quiet little wine bar nearby, dimly lit with amber lights reflecting off the glasses. Ethan ordered a bottle of red, and as the cork popped, I felt a rare lightness in my chest—a mix of relief, pride, and… gratitude.

We poured the wine, clinking our glasses softly.

“To the deal,” Ethan said.

“To the deal,” I echoed, letting the rich taste fill me.

After a quiet sip, I looked at him. “Ethan… thank you. For everything. For helping me build my career, for always being there… for being a good friend when I thought I couldn’t trust anyone again.”

He smiled softly, the kind of smile that carried years of understanding. “You did all the work, Billie. I just stood beside you.”

“I know,” I said, feeling the warmth of the moment. “But it means everything to me.”

“Billie, you're my sister’s best friend, so I should take care of you and help you out, or else she will wake up from her grave and punch me in the face,” he laughed.

Her cousin, my best friend Emily, from my college days… he made me think of her, and now no words can express how grateful I am to have had a best friend like her. If she hadn’t died in that car accident, she would be here too. We would be three, not just two.

Before my tears could fall, I sipped a glass of wine.

We drank in silence for a few minutes, savoring the wine and the quiet of the evening. Then Ethan leaned back, looking thoughtful.

“I’ve been thinking about expanding the business,” he said casually. “Maybe opening a branch in another city… What do you think?”

I smiled, placing a hand on his arm lightly. “Whatever decision you make, I’ll support you. You know that.”

He looked at me, appreciation flickering in his eyes, then laughed softly. “You always know what to say.”

We finished the bottle together, laughter and quiet conversations flowing easily between us, the kind that felt effortless and safe. Eventually, Ethan stood.

“Let’s get you home,” he said, sliding into the driver’s seat with that familiar ease.

The drive was calm, quiet except for the soft hum of the engine. I let my thoughts drift, replaying the evening’s successes, the couple’s smiles, the way my designs had finally been appreciated for everything they were worth.

When we arrived at my house, I thanked him again before stepping inside. “Thanks for tonight, Ethan. Really. For everything.”

“Always, Billie,” he replied. “Now, get some rest… and don’t forget to celebrate a little tomorrow too.”

I gave him a small wave as he drove off, the sound of the car fading into the night.

Inside, I paused at the doorway.

“Maria?” I called to my maid.

“Where’s my son?” Maria appeared, smiling. “Good Evening, ma’am.Oh… your son, Travis, is already asleep. School wore him out, ma’am.”

A rush of longing hit me. I hadn’t seen him all day, caught up in meetings, preparations, and the client dinner.

I quietly made my way to his room. The soft glow from his nightlight illuminated his small form tucked under the blankets. I knelt beside him, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead and leaning down to place a gentle kiss there.

“Thank you,” I whispered, my voice catching. “Thank you for keeping me alive, for reminding me what matters, and for pushing me to fulfill my dreams.”

I rested my hand over his little chest for a moment. “Everything I do… it’s for you, son. And I’m sorry if I don’t always have enough time for you right now.”

He stirred slightly, murmuring something in his sleep, and I smiled, fighting back a lump in my throat.

“Sleep well, my little boy,” I whispered, standing and smoothing the blankets. “Mommy will always be here for you.”

I had just kissed Travis on the forehead and was about to leave his room when my phone buzzed. Ethan’s name flashed on the screen.

I picked up. “Hello, Ethan”

“Billie! You will not believe this!” Ethan’s voice was full of excitement, practically shaking with energy even through the phone.

I blinked, still lingering in the quiet of the house. “Ethan… slow down. What happened?”

“You won’t believe it. Mr. Smith just called me,” he said, his words tumbling out. “He said Evan Collins, the CEO of Collins Fine Jewelry, wants to meet with us. And get this, he’s ready to invest fifty billion dollars in the business!”

My hand froze around the phone. Evan? My chest tightened. Memories I had shoved deep away, the heartbreak, the betrayal, the cheque, flared up violently.

“Evan Collins?” I managed to whisper, my voice barely audible.

“Yes,” Ethan said, still practically shouting with excitement. Then his tone shifted slightly, curious. “Do you know him?”

I forced a breath into my lungs, steadying the sudden storm rising inside me.

“Yes,” I answered, keeping my voice deliberately vague. “I used to work under his company… as a jewelry designer.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line.

Then Ethan’s voice came back, filled with unmistakable surprise. “Wait, really?”

“Yes,” I said simply.

Another pause, longer this time, heavier. I could almost hear the gears in his mind turning.

“You’re telling me,” he continued slowly, “that you worked for Collins Fine Jewelry… one of the most popular luxury brands in Forks… a billion-dollar company that’s been dominating the industry for years… and you never mentioned it?”

I gave a small, humorless smile, even though he couldn’t see me.

“There were a lot of things I never mentioned, Ethan.”

He let out a quiet breath, still clearly trying to process it. “That’s… unbelievable. And now I’m working with someone who used to design for them?” He let out a soft laugh of disbelief. “No wonder your work is on another level. I already knew you were good, Billie but this explains everything.”

I leaned lightly against the wall beside Travis’s door, my eyes drifting back to my sleeping son.

“I wasn’t just ‘good,’” I said calmly. “I was one of their best.”

“I believe that,” he said instantly, without hesitation.

And somehow… that simple trust in his voice made something in my chest ache.

Ethan let out a low whistle. “You’ve been hiding all of this from me?”

“I wasn’t hiding,” I said quietly. “I was… starting over.”

Silence settled between us again but this time it was different. Not curiosity but respect.

Then, gently, he asked the question I had been expecting.

“If that’s the case… why did you leave Collins Fine Jewelry?”

My fingers tightened slightly around the phone.

Here it was.

The line I had rehearsed in my mind for years.

“I got pregnant,” I said.

No hesitation. No emotion.

Just the truth… simplified.

Ethan didn’t speak immediately.

When he did, his voice was quieter. Careful.

“And… they didn’t allow that?”

I let out a faint breath. “Pregnancy was… prohibited for designers under contract. At least, for someone in my position.”

“That’s insane,” he muttered, clearly disapproving.

“I chose to leave,” I continued. “I moved to New York City. Started over. Raised my son. Built something new for myself.”

“And became even more successful,” he added softly.

I didn’t respond to that.

Because success… had never come without a price.

After a moment, he asked again, more thoughtfully this time, “Then why were you working there secretly? If you were that talented, why didn’t they put you in the spotlight?”

A small, almost nostalgic smile touched my lips.

“That part,” I admitted, “was my choice.”

“Your choice?”

“Yes,” I said. “Back then… I wasn’t like I am now. I hated cameras. I couldn’t stand speaking in front of people. I avoided attention as much as possible.”

I paused, glancing again at Travis.

“I was… weak.”

Ethan immediately spoke, firm but gentle. “No. You weren’t weak.”

“I was,” I insisted quietly. “But I grew. I stepped out of that comfort zone. I had to.”

My voice softened.

“Because I became a mother.”

The word lingered in the air between us.

“And now?” he asked.

“Now I’m not just a woman hiding behind designs,” I said. “I’m someone who wants to be known. Someone who wants to stand on her own name. Not in the shadows anymore.”

There was a long silence after that.

Then Ethan exhaled slowly.

“Billie…” he said, his tone filled with something deeper now—something warmer. “That’s… incredible. Everything you’ve been through… everything you’ve built… it’s honestly amazing.”

“Besides, you also played a big role in Winston Watch Company,” he added “You helped close major deals, brought in investors, designed pieces that sold hundreds of thousands in the market.”

I closed my eyes briefly.

“Thank you for your appreciation, Ethan"

“I mean it. You’re strong. Stronger than most people I know.” He said, smiling.

I didn’t know how to respond to that.

Because if he knew everything…

If he knew the truth about Travis…

About his father…

Would he still say that?

Or would he look at me differently?

“Anyway,” he said after a moment, his tone lightening again, “this meeting with Evan Collins… it could be huge. Fifty billion, Billie. That’s not just expansion, that’s empire-level.”

My chest tightened at the mention of his name.

Empire.

That was exactly what Evan had always wanted.

“And we’ll be ready,” I said, forcing steadiness into my voice.

“Of course we will,” Ethan replied confidently. “With you on my team? There’s nothing we can’t handle.”

I gave a small smile. If only he knew.

“Get some rest,” he added gently. “Big days ahead.”

“You too, Ethan.”

“Goodnight, Billie.”

“Goodnight.”

The call ended.

And just like that…

The silence returned.

I lowered the phone slowly, staring at the dark screen as my reflection faintly stared back at me.

Then I took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm raging inside my chest.

Because the truth was I wasn’t afraid for myself. I was afraid for my child.

My gaze drifted back to Travis, sleeping peacefully, unaware of the world that threatened to reach him.

“I won’t let him find out,” I whispered under my breath.

I stepped fully into the room, closing the door softly behind me.

“He can’t know…”

My fingers trembled slightly as I brushed them through my hair.

“Never.”

Because how do you tell a child that his father is not human?

That the man who was supposed to love him…

Was a werewolf?

A bitter memory surged forward without warning.

“That man…” I whispered, my voice tightening. “He lost the right to be part of our lives the moment he chose to leave.”

But even as I said it…

Fear crept in. Because fate had a cruel way of circling back.

And now Evan Collins was coming.

Not just as a memory, not just as a past I buried. But as a man walking straight into my present.

Into my world. Into my son’s life.

I looked at Travis again, my expression softening instantly.

“No matter what happens,” I whispered, kneeling beside his bed, “I will protect you.”

My hand rested gently over his small one.

“Even if it means facing him again.”