The Betrayal and the Chairman

Rhea’s POV

The grand ballroom suffocates me. I stand frozen near a massive crystal pillar, my nails digging into my palms as I watch a sight that shatters my world. Today was supposed to be the day. Today, my fated mate, Declan, and I were supposed to announce our engagement.

Instead, I am forced to stand in the shadows and watch him kiss another woman.

His hands grip Aurelia Vance’s waist, pulling her flush against him. Her arms drape over his shoulders, and they kiss with a sickening passion right in the middle of the dance floor. The mate bond connecting Declan and me screams in my chest, a tearing, burning agony that makes it hard to draw breath.

I know exactly why he is doing this. A couple of months ago, our pack’s Alpha died on the battlefield. His death left a massive power vacuum, throwing the pack into chaos as candidates scrambled for the title. Declan wants that Alpha position more than anything. More than me.

He coldly chose Aurelia to secure his reign. She is the daughter of Silas Vance, the world’s most powerful Lycan chairman. The Lycans control the werewolf population from the shadows. Silas Vance holds enough power and influence to single-handedly appoint anyone as the new Alpha. Declan did the math. A life with his fated mate, or ultimate power with the chairman's daughter.

He made his choice.

Seeking an escape from the blinding pain of my mate bond, I retreat to the massive marble bar in the corner of the room. The music is too loud, the chatter too bright.

“Get me a whiskey, and a martini for the lady.”

A deep, authoritative voice rumbles right beside me. The sound vibrates through the air, demanding instant obedience. The bartender rushes to fill the order.

I glance to my right. A tall man stands there, wearing a custom-tailored dark suit. I cannot see his face clearly in the dim lighting of the bar, but his presence is imposing, thick with raw power.

“Is it the future bride, or the future groom that has you in such a dark mood?” he asks, his tone smooth, carrying a hint of amusement.

“I am just not into parties,” I lie, keeping my gaze fixed on the bartender.

“Nor am I,” the stranger murmurs. He shifts his weight, leaning against the counter. “I am here out of pure obligation.”

The bartender slides a cold martini glass in front of me. I grab it and immediately take a heavy sip. The alcohol burns down my throat, and I sigh, waiting for the liquor to numb the relentless stabbing pain in my chest. Every time I picture Declan’s mouth on Aurelia’s, another piece of my soul cracks. Two years together. The mark on my neck. Did any of it mean anything to him?

I set the empty glass down. “Thank you for the drink.”

I turn to flee the overwhelming conversation. I need to get out of this room before I break down. But as I slide off the high stool, the delicate silk of my blouse snags hard on a jagged edge beneath the counter.

A loud rip echoes over the music. The fabric tears open.

I lose my balance. My heel catches on the brass footrest, and I tumble backward. Gravity yanks me down, and I squeeze my eyes shut, bracing for the harsh impact of the marble floor.

It never comes.

Thick, densely muscular arms catch me effortlessly mid-fall. The impact knocks the breath from my lungs, but the hold is rock-solid. I open my eyes and look up, my breath hitching in my throat.

The man holding me is devastatingly handsome. He supports my weight as if I weigh nothing, his broad chest firm against my back. A striking, adorable dimple appears on his right cheek as a slow smile spreads across his lips.

“Madam, are you falling for me?” he teases, his dark eyes sparkling with mischief.

I stare at that dimple, my mind buzzing. “You are a funny one, aren't you?”

His grin widens. Then, his gaze drops to my chest, and a frown quickly replaces his smile. I follow his line of sight. My blouse is ruined, torn down the side and exposing the lace of my bra.

“Let me take you up to my exclusive VIP suite,” he says, his deep voice sending a strange shiver down my spine.

“What?” I whisper, my heart skipping a beat.

“Your shirt is ruined. I have a replacement you can wear upstairs in my suite,” he explains, his eyes locking onto mine.

I blink, my brain struggling to process his offer through the haze of alcohol and heartbreak. His looks are sinful, distracting. “Oh. Alright. Thank you.”

He gestures to the bartender without looking away from me. “Charge our drinks to my suite.”

“Yes, sir.”

He escorts me away from the bar, guiding me through the crowd. We step into a private elevator. His body radiates a massive amount of heat, and a crisp, mint scent washes over me. My wolf, who has been whimpering in agony all night, suddenly quiets down. It is as if the sheer proximity of this man overrides the agony of my broken mate bond.

The heavy wooden doors of the VIP suite click shut behind us, sealing us in quiet luxury.

“Take off your shirt,” he orders, his tone shifting into something darker. He walks across the plush carpet toward a large closet.

“Excuse me?” I squeak, my arms crossing over my chest.

He glances back over his shoulder. “So you can put on the fresh one.”

“Right,” I breathe out.

I grab the shredded silk and pull it over my head. I toss the ruined fabric onto a nearby chair, leaving my upper body exposed in nothing but my black lace bra. The cool air of the suite hits my bare skin.

He turns around, holding a crisp button-down shirt.

The moment he sees me, he freezes. His tall, imposing figure goes rigid. His dark, hungry eyes trail slowly down my bare neck, lingering on the swell of my breasts spilling over the lace cups of my bra, down to my exposed stomach.

I stare back at him, taking in his sharp jawline, his broad shoulders, the ruthless set of his mouth. And then, the realization strikes me like a physical blow to the chest.

I know that face. The Lycan family prefers the shadows over the spotlight, but I have seen his picture in pack dossiers.

He is Silas Vance.

The infamous playboy Lycan Chairman.

Aurelia’s father.

Declan’s future father-in-law.

“It is you,” I gasp, stumbling a step backward.

Silas arches a dark brow, his gaze snapping up to meet mine. He drops the fresh shirt onto the bed. “You know me?”

“I know of you,” I clarify, my heart hammering against my ribs.

He tilts his head. A slow, predatory smirk touches his lips. He stalks toward me, taking measured, deliberate steps like a predator cornering its prey. The sheer dominance rolling off his body makes my breath come short.

“And what do you know of me?” he asks, his voice dropping an octave.

“Only what I have heard,” I admit, taking another step back.

“Tell me.”

“You are Silas Vance. Lycan Chairman.” I swallow hard, my back hitting the cold, solid wall of the suite. “You are a notorious playboy. You have a new woman every week, and you never sleep with the same woman twice.”

He stops just inches from me. He braces his hands on the wall beside my head, trapping me. “Is that so? Tell me more.”

The alcohol buzzes hot in my veins. The devastating agony of Declan’s betrayal crashes into me again. Declan chose Silas’s daughter. Declan threw me away for power. A rebellious, reckless fire ignites in my gut. If Declan can indulge himself, why can't I?

I tilt my chin up, closing the small distance between us. “Your eyes…” I whisper, tracing my gaze over his sharp features. “I heard they were mesmerizing. I have to agree.”

Silas goes still, his breathing deepening. “What else?”

“When you smile,” I murmur, letting my gaze drop to his mouth, “you have this adorable dimple on your cheek.”

I look at his lips.

Before I can say another word, his mouth crashes into mine.

There is nothing gentle about it. The kiss is desperately hungry, possessive, and raw. His lips devour mine, parting my jaws. His tongue invades my mouth, tasting every inch of me with demanding heat. The sheer force of it wipes my mind blank.

I kiss him back with equal eagerness. I slide my hands up his chest, grabbing the lapels of his suit jacket.

Silas groans, a deep, guttural sound. His hands grip my waist, and he lifts my body off the floor, pinning me hard against the wall. Instinct takes over. I wrap my bare legs securely around his narrow waist, locking my ankles behind his back.

His mouth leaves mine to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses down my jaw and the sensitive skin of my neck. He sucks hard on my pulse point, sending a rush of liquid heat straight to my core.

I need more of him. My fingers eagerly yank at his tie, loosening the silk knot. I push his suit jacket off his broad shoulders, letting it drop to the floor. Together, we tear at the buttons of his shirt. He pulls it over his head and tosses it aside.

My palms press flat against his bare chest. I explore the hard ridges of his abs, feeling the immense, burning heat of his skin. His muscles flex and jump under my touch.

He captures my lips again, kissing me breathless. His large hands slide up my ribcage, his thumbs brushing the underside of my breasts.

He pulls back just enough to look me in the eyes, his chest heaving. “Are you sure you want this?” he rasps.

“Yes,” I breathe out, my voice thick with lust. “We are both willing adults. Why not?”

His eyes darken with unrestrained desire. He dives back in, his mouth crushing mine. His large hands reach around to my back, his fingers tracing the delicate strap of my bra, finding the metal clasp.

A sharp, frantic mindlink suddenly rips through my brain.

‘Rhea! Please, come home!’

The voice belongs to my adoptive mother. Her tone is laced with pure, unadulterated panic. My mother never panics.

The sound of her terror hits me like a bucket of ice water. The intoxicating haze shatters in an instant.

I gasp, tearing my mouth away from Silas. I immediately drop my legs from his waist, my feet hitting the floor. I shove hard against his bare, muscular chest.

“Stop,” I say breathlessly, stepping out of his hold. “I have to go.”

Silas stumbles back a half-step. A dark, frustrated growl rips from his throat. His eyes flash with sudden anger at the abrupt rejection. He reaches out and grabs my arm in a vice grip, stopping me from running for the door.

“I do not have much patience. Stop joking,” he snaps, his dominant aura flaring.

“I am so sorry,” I say, my own panic rising. “But I am sure you have plenty of other options. Let me go.”

I try to yank my arm away, but his grip is iron. We stare at each other, chest heaving. I prepare to fight him, my wolf baring her teeth.

Silas stares into my panicked eyes. The anger slowly drains from his face, replaced by a heavy sigh. He releases my arm and bends down, picking up the fresh button-down shirt from the bed.

Without a word, he pulls the shirt over my head. The soft fabric drops over my half-naked body, covering my bra and bare stomach. The rich, mint scent of him envelops me.

I do not waste another second. I turn and sprint out of the VIP suite, racing toward the elevator.

The frantic run back to my house feels like a blur. My chest tightens with every step. When I finally reach my front porch, I shove the heavy door open and step inside.

The sound of broken sobbing instantly greets me.

“Mom?” I call out, my heart hammering in my throat.

The crying echoes from the kitchen. I rush down the hallway, my bare feet slapping against the hardwood floor. I find my mother collapsed in a chair by the dining table, her face buried in her hands, her shoulders shaking with heavy sobs.

“Rhea?” She lifts her head, her face blotchy and soaked with tears. Her broken voice shreds my heart.

She looks at me, her eyes wide with terror, and delivers the crushing news.

“Your father was taken away by the Gammas tonight.”