Ella's POV

Before I could gave an answer, his phone buzzed. He didn’t even glance at me again before reading the message. “Actually, something came up. Next time, alright?” he said as he left, rushing out to his car.

I noticed the servants watching me, their nosiness clear, but I ignored them. I went outside to the gate, where my taxi was waiting.

I looked up at the gloomy sky. “Perfect,” I muttered bitterly to myself. Rain was on its way, and I’d probably be drenched by the time I got home.

Once at work, everyone noticed my limp and looked at me with sympathy and concern. Adele, one of my colleagues, came over. “How are you feeling? I heard about what happened… you were almost killed.”

I opened my laptop, staring at the hundreds of unread emails. “I’m feeling better, thanks for asking.” I forced a smile, though it didn’t reach my eyes.

“You know, Miss Wesley is so lucky. Alpha Carson saved her. Honestly, I think they’re in a relationship, even if they deny it. I’m kinda jealous of Miss Wesley,” Adele sighed.

“Yeah, they do make a great pair. Maybe she’s his real mate,” I replied, faking a smile as if I was delighted.

I had no right to tell the truth—not that anyone would believe Alpha Carson was my mate and my boyfriend. Not when he treated me like just another employee.

When the head manager called Adele over, I was left alone in my cubicle, exactly where I wanted to be: alone, focused on my work.

Later, I headed to the pantry for some tea, but I stopped in my tracks when I overheard my coworkers talking.

“Did you hear the rumor that during the meeting with the stakeholders, Alpha Carson actually carried Miss Wesley after she accidentally spilled coffee on herself? Just a little stain on her white sleeve,” one of them said, her voice practically swooning.

“Seriously? Why don’t they just make it official already? It’s obvious they have feelings for each other,” another one chimed in, sipping her coffee.

My hand trembled, and the mug slipped, shattering on the floor—just like my heart in that moment. I could feel the sadness of my wolf mingling with my anger. I was so tired of hearing rumors about my mate and his secretary.

They all turned to look at me. Ignoring the cut on my hand, I gathered the broken pieces and tossed them in the trash. They pointed out my bleeding, but I left without acknowledging their concern.

By the time I left Wayvere, it was pouring rain. I glanced down at my phone—there was a message from Alpha Carson asking what milkshake flavor I wanted.

I turned off the screen, waiting under the building’s awning for my taxi. I hadn’t brought an umbrella, no coat either, and the wind was bitterly cold. My cut still throbbed, taking longer to heal without a proper bond with my mate.

The rain only got worse, and I was already soaked from the wind whipping the rain under the awning. I was shivering by the time my taxi finally pulled up. Once I got inside, my phone rang. It was Carson.

“Honey, you’re not in your office? Your manager said you left early. Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything’s fine,” I said, leaning back as the car pulled away.

“You didn’t answer about the milkshake. What flavor? I remember you kept asking for one.”

I closed my eyes. “I don’t want it anymore.”

“Where are you? It’s pouring outside.”

“Going home. Not like I have anywhere else to be,” I answered, but then my phone pinged with a message from Anna, clearly sent by mistake.

Ella's POV

'Thanks for the milkshakes, Carson! Why’d you bring a dozen, trying to turn me into a piggy? I’m freezing over here!' with a cute frozen emoji attached.

“Honey, you’re so quiet. I’ve noticed you’ve been distant. Is this about the lacy bra?” he asked, a note of worry in his voice. “Miss Wesley—”

I cut him off before ending the call. “I’m tired. Bye.”

My phone buzzed again, but I ignored his calls. Once I got home, I went straight to our bedroom and started packing my clothes. Not long after, the door swung open, and Alpha Carson walked in. “I know you’re upset. Here’s your milkshake.”

He handed it to me, and I took it with a polite smile. “Thanks,” I said, placing it on the nightstand.

He looked around, noticing how bare the vanity looked. His brow furrowed. “Did you throw some of your stuff out?”

“Yeah.”

“I see… Anyway, I’ll be away for a week. My parents need me to handle some business up north with one of the packs. Want me to bring anything back for you?” He started unbuttoning his shirt, getting ready for a shower.

“Nah, I don’t need anything,” I replied, straightening the bedsheets. “But thanks for asking.”

What was the point of it, anyway, when I’d be gone in a few days?

Suddenly, he grabbed my arm. His shirt was halfway unbuttoned, revealing his muscled chest—the same chest that once felt so comforting. Now, though, his touch just made me feel uneasy.

“Is this still about the lacy bra? Is that what all of this is about?” His tone grew stern as he pulled me closer. “Why won’t you listen to my explanation? You’re acting so immature. Do you really think I’m cheating on you?”

I kept quiet.

"So, this is what it's all about? I’m not cheating on you. Stop being dramatic, Ella. You know I can’t stand a woman who’s overly dramatic. You’re getting out of line,” he said, his tone dripping with disgust and dismay.

With that, he stormed out, slamming the door hard.

In our seven years together, he was the one who’d give me the silent treatment whenever I was upset. Every time, I’d end up apologizing, trying to make it right.

But this time, I didn’t say a word. I ate dinner alone at the dining table; he didn’t come out of his study, still stewing. When I went to bed, I didn’t knock on his study door to apologize like he expected.

The next morning, he was grumpy, not speaking to me until his phone pinged. He looked at it instantly, then barked at me, “Take the afternoon off. I need you to make me a fondant cake.”

His tone made it sound like it was urgent.

A cake—so, it’s someone’s birthday. Since meeting my mate, I was always the one baking for him.

My gaze drifted to his phone. I knew exactly who it was for. The little avatar on the screen was none other than his Miss Secretary.

Seconds of silence passed, an unnervingly quiet moment.

He looked at me, clueless to how unreasonable and unfair his request was, just waiting for me to say yes.

Keeping my expression neutral, I nodded and continued eating. “Send me a picture of the cake you want,” I said, standing up. “I’ll go out and buy the ingredients before work.”

This would be the last cake I’d ever make for him. I was done.

As I walked out the dining room door, my steps felt heavy. My wolf’s sadness gnawed at me, still hoping for a second chance with my mate.

“Ella,” Alpha Carson called, his voice unsure.