Page 7 of Alpha-Ex Wedding Ruse
I followed the scent through the hallway, down to the living room. With every step, it grew stronger, undeniable. My wolf grew more restless, impatient, pushing me forward until my strides turned urgent.
It didn’t make sense.
She couldn’t be here. Not here, of all places.
Logic screamed no. But instinct…instinct knew. I felt her.
When I stepped into the living room, I froze.
Everything in me stilled.
She was standing with her back to me, gazing at the painting on the far wall, nodding thoughtfully, a glass of wine dangling from her fingers.
I didn’t need to see her face.
That full, wavy blonde hair cascading down her back, I’d know it anywhere.
She hadn’t changed. Or maybe I just never forgot.
The rage came first—fierce, instinctive. Then the ache, slower, heavier.
Some wounds don’t heal. They don’t fade. They wait.
And the moment I saw her, that wound split open like it had never closed, reminding me of the love I had for her, the trust she shattered, and the part of me that still couldn’t bring itself to resent her for both.
My gaze dropped lower, tracing the shape of her ass, hugged perfectly by a tailored black pantsuit that made my cock twitch in my slacks. She wore stilettos—black, sleek—which gave her just a bit more height than I remembered.
Leila Carter. Right in front of me. After five long, agonizing years. Well, I’ll be damned.
I took a step forward, but Elena’s voice floated into the room beside me.
“Oh, there you are, Luca. You’re just in time to meet our wedding planner.”
Leila turned.
And just like that, time punched the breath out of both of us.
Her olive skin lost its glow in an instant, her shoulders locked, and her eyes went wide. Recognition hit her.
Elena stepped beside me, slipping her fingers into mine with practiced ease.
“Luca, this is Leila Carter,” she said, smiling brightly. “And Leila, this is Luca Vaughn. My fiancé.”
Chapter Three
Leila’s POV
Shocked didn’t even beginto cover it.
I wasn’t ready for him. Not now. Not ever. Not when I’d finally started putting my life back together.
Okay, maybe “put together” was an exaggeration. After all, I was in a huge debt with a dangerous organization that had just threatened to kill my son if I didn’t catch up on the payments I owed them.
But I’d finally shoved him deep into the back of my mind, filed him under painful mistakes and things I wished away. And now, there he was—standing right in front of me like a ghost from a past I had fought hard to bury, unraveling every fragile stitch of progress I’d made in five years.
Thank goodness I’d slapped on an extra layer of blush this morning. Without it, I’d look as pale as the ghost he’d become in my nightmares.
Luca Vaughn.
