My Ex-Alpha Said He Loved Me, So He Chose My Sister As His Mistress

The mouse button clicked. A sharp, plastic snap in the quiet office.

"Message sent."

My resignation letter vanished into the corporate server, heading straight for the HR department. Staring at the glowing monitor, a strange emptiness settled in my chest. No tears. No panic.

I didn't love Alpha Damien Blackwood anymore.

My phone buzzed against the desk, vibrating hard enough to rattle my pens. The caller ID flashed Ethan Carter. My manager.

I swiped the screen. "Hello, Ethan."

"Isabella, tell me this is a mistake," Ethan's voice crackled through the speaker, tight with anxiety. "I just saw the notification. You're quitting?"

"It's not a mistake."

"Have you lost your mind?" he demanded.

"I'm perfectly sane."

"Damien is the CEO. He's your Alpha." Ethan paused, lowering his voice as if someone might overhear. "He takes care of you. He protects you. Why throw that away?"

A laugh clawed its way up my throat. It sounded pathetic, even to my own ears.

"Protect me?" I asked, my grip tightening on the phone. "Take care of me?"

"Yes, Isabella. You have a position here most wolves would kill for."

"He doesn't protect me, Ethan."

I closed my eyes. The sterile smell of bleach and iodine from a week ago rushed back, choking my senses.

I had been lying on the stiff hospital bed, clutching my stomach. Blood soaking through the sheets. Our first child, slipping away in a wash of crimson.

Eighteen times. I had dialed his number eighteen times.

On the nineteenth try, the line finally clicked open.

"Damien," I had gasped, pain tearing through my abdomen. "Please."

A heavy groan answered me. Then, the undeniable wet slap of skin against skin. The rustle of sheets.

"Alpha," a sweet, breathless voice moaned. "Fuck, your cock is so deep."

Olivia. My sister. Olivia Ashford.

"Why does sister keep bothering us?" Olivia purred into the receiver. "Is she jealous of how you're stretching my cunt?"

My fingers dug into the thin hospital mattress. "Damien! I'm at the clinic. I'm bleeding!"

"You can just listen if you want," Damien's voice came through, rough, completely ignoring my plea.

"I'm losing the baby!" I screamed into the speaker. "Damien, our pup! I'm going to miscarry!"

A soft, mocking giggle echoed from Olivia's end. "Sister came up with this trick to fool you. Go to her, Alpha. Pull your cock out of me."

"Shut up and take it," Damien growled. "I'm fucking you right here."

The rhythm of their movements sped up. The phone picked up every disgusting sound.

He didn't care. He was fucking my sister while our pup died inside me.

Right then, something inside my chest fractured. A physical snap echoed through my ribs. The Mate Bond. The invisible cord tying my soul to his withered, turned to ash, and blew away. The warmth that usually hummed beneath my skin vanished, replaced by a freezing, hollow void.

I dropped the phone. It clattered onto the linoleum floor.

The nurse stepped into the room, her eyes wide with pity. She handed me the surgery consent form. My hand didn't shake when I signed my name.

"Isabella? Are you still there?" Ethan's voice yanked me back to the present.

I opened my eyes. The office walls were perfectly still. My heart beat in a steady, calm rhythm. No pain. No phantom ache from the broken bond.

"I'm here," I said, my tone flat.

"Look, just withdraw the email. We can pretend this never happened. I'll delete it from the server before anyone else sees."

"People change, Ethan." I leaned back in my chair, staring at the ceiling tiles. "There is no relationship left to salvage. There is no Mate Bond either."

Silence stretched over the line. I could picture Ethan rubbing his temples, trying to calculate the fallout.

"You're serious," he muttered.

"Completely."

"Fine. But HR can't process this alone." Ethan sighed heavily. "Your resignation requires Damien's signature. You aren't just a regular employee. You have a special status. He has to sign the release forms personally."

My jaw clamped shut. I hadn't factored that in.

"Understood." I kept my voice steady.

"He's going to be furious, Isabella. If you walk into his office with that paper, he won't let you just walk out."

"I'll bring him the printed copy tomorrow. He can sign it then."

"Don't say I didn't warn you."

The call ended.

I tossed the phone onto the desk. It slid and bumped against a glossy folder.

Opening the cover, I stared at the documents inside. A one-way first-class ticket to Paris. Departure date: three days from now.

Beneath the ticket lay a thick, cream-colored letterhead. L'École Supérieure des Beaux-Arts. The top art academy in the world.

"We are thrilled to offer you a position in our upcoming residency program..."

I traced the embossed gold lettering with my index finger. For three years, I had buried my talent to play the perfect Luna-in-waiting, the obedient employee, the devoted mate. All for an Alpha who couldn't even pause his thrusts to save our child.

I pushed the folder aside and stood up. The city skyline stretched out beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows of my office. The fading sun cast long, sharp shadows across the glass.

A small smile touched the corners of my mouth. The future didn't look like a dark, terrifying void anymore. It looked bright. It beckoned me forward, promising a life where I belonged only to myself.

I gathered my purse and headed for the door. The office felt like a tomb, and I was finally stepping out into the fresh air.

Tomorrow, I would walk into the CEO's office.

Tomorrow, I would face Damien Blackwood one last time.

I just hoped he wouldn't make it difficult. But knowing Damien, he never let his toys walk away easily. When he saw that piece of paper, the real war would begin.