Chapter 91: Another Man

The moment Julian spoke those words, something inside me went cold.It felt like the ground shifted under my feet. The years I had spent beside him believing I knew him, trusted him, even loved him collapsed all at once. Every memory turned sour.

If I hadn’t been given this second chance at life, I would’ve never seen what he truly was.

Twisted. Rotten.

He had actually tried to force himself on me.

The disgust hit fast, sharp enough to burn.

I reacted without thinking. My knee drove hard into his stomach. The air left him in a broken sound as he crashed against the floor of the car. Before he could recover, I stepped forward and slapped him. Once. Twice. Again. My palm stung, but the betrayal hurt far worse.

I had learned how to defend myself long ago. I never imagined I’d use it on someone I once cared about. Julian wasn’t prepared. He didn’t expect resistance.

And people like him don’t deserve mercy.

I reached forward and slammed the partition down. "Stop the car," I said, my voice steady and cold.

The driver glanced back once, took in Julian’s state, and didn’t ask a single question. The car screeched to a halt.

Before I stepped out into the falling snow, I turned back and delivered one last kick to Julian’s side.

"You’re filth," I said.

Then I slammed the door shut.

Snow spun around me, quiet and endless. I stood on the side of an unfamiliar road with nothing but my phone, my coat, and my pride. My hands shook, but I stayed standing.

I called Lewis.

He answered on the first ring. "Hello?"

"Can you come get me?" I asked. I tried to sound calm.

"I’m on my way. Don’t move."

He arrived quickly. When I slid into the car, the warmth wrapped around me, and I finally felt the tremble set in. Lewis looked at me, his eyes sharp with concern.

"What happened?" he asked.

I hesitated.

Julian’s words echoed in my head that no matter what he did, Lewis would protect him. Even if there was no romance left between Lewis and Esther, their bond ran deep. Pack ties always did.

I didn’t want to force him to choose.

"It’s nothing," I said quietly. "I thought I drove here myself and didn’t want to leave my car behind."

Lewis didn’t push. "Give Theo your keys. He’ll bring it back."

I handed them over, and the rest of the drive passed in silence.

Then Lewis reached for my hand. His grip was warm. Steady.

"Riley," he said softly, "this marriage we share isn’t just for show. You’re my partner. My family. If something is wrong, I want to know. You don’t have to face it alone."

My chest tightened. I looked at him. "You care about Julian, don’t you? If he crossed the line... would you still defend him?"

His answer came without hesitation. "That depends on what he did. Not everything can be forgiven."

His thumb brushed over my knuckles. "Now tell me the truth."

I nodded. Slowly, I pulled down my collar. Faint red marks bloomed against my skin.

"In the car," I said quietly, "he tried to force himself on me."

The warmth around Lewis vanished.

His expression hardened instantly. The air felt heavy, pressing down on everything. He pulled me onto his lap, holding me close, his voice low and controlled.

"Did he touch you?" he asked. "Tell me."

"I stopped him," I said quickly. "I fought him off."

Then I looked down, unsure. "Lewis... if it came down to it him or me what would you do?"

He didn’t pause.

"You’re my mate," he said. "No one has the right to hurt you. Not Julian. Not anyone."

He rested his forehead against mine, his grip firm but gentle. "I’m glad you’re safe. I’ll handle him. You focus on your competition. Don’t let this shake you."

"Okay," I whispered.

For the first time since it happened, I felt grounded.

That night at dinner, Julian didn’t appear.

Jeffrey asked about him. The butler leaned in and whispered something. Jeffrey’s face darkened immediately as he shot a sharp look at Lewis.

Lewis set his utensils down calmly. "Leave it. He’s not in a good state."

Jeffrey scoffed. "Since when do we excuse this kind of behavior?"

Lewis didn’t raise his voice. "The Hale pack answers to me now. I decide how things are handled."

He pushed his plate back. "I’m done."

Jeffrey’s anger was obvious, sharp enough to cut the air. But Lewis didn’t react to him. Instead, he turned to me and asked quietly,

"Do you want to see how Julian is doing?"

There was something burning low in his eyes. Calm on the surface. Unyielding underneath. I knew then that he wasn’t planning to let this go.

Not this time.

Julian’s face flashed in my mind twisted, furious, wrong. The way he had looked at me in the car made my stomach churn. The memory alone was enough to make my skin crawl.

Lewis watched me closely, as if he could feel the storm I was holding back. Maybe he wanted to show me that he could be fair. That he could handle things the right way.

But I was done.

"I don’t care about him," I said firmly, shaking my head. And I meant it.

That night, after Lewis showered and changed into his silk pajamas, I did something I had never done before.

I didn’t return to my room.

Instead, I walked toward him quietly.

He was seated, relaxed, the room dim and warm. I knelt beside him, my gaze dropping to his legs through the thin fabric of his pants.

"Lewis," I asked softly, "how did your leg get injured?"

The question felt intimate. Too intimate. But lately, the distance between us had blurred. For the first time, I felt like I was allowed to ask.

He looked down at me, his expression calm. "It was an accident."

I hesitated, then asked, "Was it... because of Esther?"

I expected him to close off. Instead, his voice softened.

"There was a car accident," he said quietly. "She protected me. I only injured my leg. She didn’t make it."

I froze.

"But everyone said she died from illness," I whispered.

For years, I had believed her heart had simply given out. That grief had worn her down.

Lewis reached out and brushed my hair back gently. His touch was warm, grounding.

"Some things look peaceful from the outside," he said. "Like still water. But underneath, there’s always more."

Then he looked at me and asked, "Do you regret mating with me? This life isn’t simple."

At first, I had agreed to this bond for revenge. I hadn’t thought about tomorrow. Or next year. Or what it meant to stand beside him.

But Lewis was steady. Constant. Someone I could lean on without fear of falling.

"I don’t regret it," I said honestly.

A small smile touched his lips. He held out his hand.

"Come here."

I hesitated only a second before placing my hand in his. He guided me to the bed, gentle and unhurried.

We lay side by side. He turned toward me.

"Do you want me to recover fully?" he asked. "For my legs to heal?"

"Yes," I answered without thinking. "More than anything."

His arm wrapped around my waist, pulling me closer. His voice dropped, almost a whisper.

"And if I do... would you accept me? Not just in name. But as your real partner."

My breath caught.

I knew what he meant. Sharing space. Sharing life. Letting him close in every way that mattered.

"But what if your heart still belongs to someone else?" I asked carefully.

He turned fully toward me and lifted my hand, pressing it to his chest. His heartbeat was strong. Steady.

"Someone lived here before," he said. "But from now on, it’s only you. You don’t have to decide anything yet. Just... treat me like someone you’re getting to know."

There was no pressure in his voice. Only sincerity.

My face warmed. My heart fluttered.

"...Alright," I whispered.

His fingers brushed my neck, pausing where faint marks still lingered.

"I don’t want another man’s trace on you," he said quietly.

"I wasn’t prepared," I murmured. "He caught me off guard."

His thumb moved gently over the skin. "Then let me cover it."

I blinked. "Cover it?"

Before I could ask more, he leaned closer.

As his lips neared mine, the world seemed to slow

and everything else faded away.