Page 125 of Alpha-Ex Wedding Ruse
“I overheard your phone call with Charles.”
“Yeah,” I muttered. “I imagine my father’s losing his mind right now.”
“Not about the board meeting,” she said quietly. “About your mother.”
I sighed and let myself fall back against the bed, eyes tracing theceiling. I hadn’t even begun to consider that mess. But one thing was certain—I wasn’t going to deal with her today. I already had enough on my plate.
I turned my head toward Leila. “I don’t know. She was a ghost until today, and she’s going to stay that way.”
Her lips curved into a small, almost hesitant smile, but she said nothing. And for that, I was grateful.
Leaning in, I brushed my mouth against her cheek. “Next time, my place?”
She chuckled. “We’ll see about that.”
By the timeI arrived at Vaughn Industries, the whole place was buzzing. News of me calling off the wedding was everywhere, and the evidence was plastered across the reception’s display screen.
The volume was muted, but the headline was bold enough to punch me in the face. Luca Vaughn, Alpha Heir of Manhattan Pack, Calls Off Wedding to The Bronx Princess, Elena Moreau.
My gaze shifted from the TV to Jasmine, and the scowl on my face told her all she needed to know.
She muttered an apology, fear flickering across her features as she scrambled for the remote. She switched to another channel, but nearly all of them were running the same story. Defeated, she turned the TV off entirely.
Charles strode into the lobby with a garment bag in one hand and a brown folder in the other.
“Here’s your suit, and the documents from legal.”
Weeks ago, I’d told Charles to have Legal draft a contract for the Moreau deal that wasn’t tied to my marriage to his daughter. A part of me had always known—since the moment I set eyes on Leila again—that I wouldn’t go through with the wedding. Not when my Mate was right there.
It might have taken weeks to get here, but this felt like the best decision I could have made.
Shame it came with a hell of a lot of damage control—because the fallout was already hitting, and I was about to take the full force of it.
“Is my father here already?” I asked, taking the brown folder from Charles as we headed toward the elevator.
“He’s here—and he’s seething,” Charles replied. “I’ve seen him angry plenty of times. Mad, even. But this? This trumps it, Luca. He’s beyond enraged.”
I chuckled. “I’d be worried if he wasn’t.”
Charles’s tone shifted, becoming more measured. “Is it worth it though, Luca? Is she worth it? I mean, it’s the same woman who stole—”
“She didn’t.” My voice came out rough as I cut him off. “I was wrong. We were all wrong about Leila. She could never have done what she was accused of.”
Charles lowered his eyes. “But the evidence—the photos—”
“Are fake. All of them. I can’t explain right now—Grant’s working on it. But I know one thing: Leila is innocent. Somebody set her up, and they succeeded. Once I find out who that son of a bitch is—the one who robbed me of five good years with Leila, with my son—I’ll tear them apart. Limb from limb.”
The elevator dinged, and we stepped out.
“Pay off the media to shut up about this,” I told Charles as I headed for my office. “And let my father know I’ll be joining them soon.”
I got changedinto the suit Charles had brought for me in my office bathroom and headed to the conference room. Inside were Alpha Sterling Moreau, my father, and Victor. Two-thirds of that party were seething. I could feel the weight of their anger before I even crossed the threshold. Victor, on the other hand, lounged back with a smug tilt to his mouth, like he’d already won something.
“I’m sorry for keeping you waiting—”
“Don’t waste your breath,” Alpha Moreau cut in, voice drippingwith venom. “You really thought you could humiliate my daughter in public and still walk in here to talk to my face?”
My jaw tightened, but I kept my tone even. “I came to have a civil conversation—”
