Page 136 of Alpha-Ex Wedding Ruse
I shook my head. “You had a choice. You had a choice to stay—for me and…” I stopped, the name sticking in my throat like poison. I couldn’t bring myself to say my own brother’s name. “Everyone has a choice, Mother. Always. So don’t give me that bullshit.”
The air turned heavy, tension hanging thick as silence fell. She stared at me with hurt in her eyes, tears threatening to spill. I felt a pang in my chest, but if she was hurting now, it was nothing—absolutely nothing—compared to the hurt I’d carried for the past decade.
Leila shifted beside me, drawing my attention.
“I…I should probably get us something cool to drink,” she said, breaking the silence.
I looked at her and instantly understood what she was doing—giving me space. Leaving me alone with my mother. Because she felt I needed to face this on my own. And maybe I did.
I gave a small nod.
“If you need me, Luca, I’ll be at the counter,” she said softly, her eyes holding a silent plea for me to hear my mother out.
I sighed inwardly.
Once she left, I leaned forward, locking my gaze on my mother. “The only reason I’m here is because of her, as you’ve probably figured out.”
A pained smile flickered across her lips, but she said nothing.
“So,” I said flatly, “what’s your big story? What’s your elaborate excuse for abandoning your kids?”
“I was fifteen when I met my Mate,” my mother began, taking a deep breath as if to steady herself. “His name was Thomas. Unfortunately, he was a rogue—but not the kind you’ve heard about. Thomas was different. He was good. He was only a rogue because he defied my father and refused to sell his land to him. I thought I was going to marry him, but my father forced me into marriage with your father—Alpha of the Manhattan pack—for political reasons. I had no choice. I had to leave Thomas and marry Maxwell. Your father would force himself on me every night, treat me like dirt—I hated it, I hated living. I was this close to ending my life.”
My stomach knotted into a pit. I could believe it—my father forcing himself on my mother. I knew what he was capable of. I knew how vile he was. But I didn’t know to what extent. My jaw clenched.
“But that changed when I ran into Thomas again in Manhattan,” she continued. “We started seeing each other, and around that time, I got pregnant with Victor. I couldn’t tell who the father was then. But knowing your father, I was certain he wouldn’t just kill Thomas, but my child, if he even suspected I was cheating on him. So, I cut things off with Thomas until after you were born. But that’s the thing about the Fated Mate bond…” A wistful smile spread across her face. “You can’t run away from it. It keeps pulling you back together. As long as Thomas remained in Manhattan City, I couldn’t stay away from him.”
Her smile then turned bitter.
“Long story short, your father found out. He walked into the hotel room where we were…and shot Thomas dead. Right in front of me. Then he exiled me—told me to leave the pack, that it was my punishment for betrayal. I refused. I couldn’t leave my sons in the hands of someone who had forced himself on me and murdered my Mate. But then he threatened to frame me for Thomas’s death. And under pack law, the punishment for killing an innocent man is death. So, it was either die and never see my boys again…or leave and watch from afar. I chose the latter. I held on to the hope that one day, you would both know the truth—and I wouldn’t have to hide anymore.”
A tear slid down her cheek. She used the napkin Leila had given her to wipe it away. “But when I saw you call off the wedding, I thoughtthis was history repeating itself. Your father was doing to you exactly what mine did to me. Only that you were braver. You are stronger, strong enough to stand up to him. And that gave me the confidence to return.”
Fury slammed into me.
My father had forced our mother away and then lied for years—told us she had woken up one morning, abandoned us, and run off with her lover. I remembered sitting on the dock every morning after she left, waiting for her to return. After a week of this, he sat Victor and me down and told us the painful story of how she walked out on us and was never coming back. No note. Nothing. Then he gave us that bullshit speech about how we “only had each other now”.
Turns out, he was just a chronic liar—someone who had spent twenty-one years making us believe our mother was a deserter.
My pulse pounded in my ears. The air in the room felt too thick, too heavy, like it was pressing me into the chair.
My mother said something I couldn’t hear it. All I could hear was my father’s voice from twenty-one years ago, dripping with false sympathy, feeding us the poison of his story. My hands curled into fists.
“I have to hear it from him,” I said, my voice low as I stood, the chair scraping sharply against the floorboards.
“No.” My mother caught my hand, her voice panicked. Her eyes—wide, frantic—locked on mine. “Please, don’t confront him, Luca. He wouldn’t care that you’re his son. He could hurt you now that you know the truth—a truth that can destroy him.” Her voice cracked. “He’s dangerous, Luca.”
I stared back at her, unblinking. “And I’ve lived with that danger for all my childhood.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Luca’s POV
“Where is he?”I demanded as I stormed into my father's house, my steps pounding against the marble floor.
Mrs. Chen appeared halfway down the hall, intercepting me. Her face was puzzled. “Luca, what is going on? Your father asked not to be interrupted.”
“I don’t care what he asked you,” I said, stomping toward the stairs. Then I stopped short, the heat in my chest tightening. And then it hit me—Mrs. Chen and my mother had always been close. I could remember seeing them in the kitchen years ago, laughing over breakfast as though the world outside didn’t exist. If there was anyone my mother would have trusted with the truth, it was her.
