Logan's question hung in the air between us, my heart suddenly pounding in my chest like a frightened bird. The way she looked at me made my mouth go as dry as the desert.
"I..." The answer lingered at the tip of my tongue, yet somehow, I couldn't say anything. How could I tell her that he had completely changed my world? That in the short time we'd known each other, he had shown me more genuine care than anyone ever had?
Thankfully, just before I could come up with a lie to change the subject, Logan's phone buzzed with an incoming call. He looked at the caller's name and sighed.
"I'm sorry, I have to go," he said, reluctantly leaving his seat. "An urgent business meeting." He paused, then added softly, "Think about my question, Amelie. I'll see you at the banquet."
As he walked away, he briefly looked over his shoulder, a small smile playing on his lips. "And just so you know, I'm looking forward to your answer."
Logan had been gone for a while, but I couldn't move a single muscle in my body, his words replaying in my head like a broken record.
Was he actually interested in me? The thought seemed impossible, yet his question had been sincere. And I wish I could give him an answer.
He wasn't my mate. Just like Sam wasn't. So I couldn't help but wonder – if I were to surrender and choose someone to love again, would it still end in despair?
***
The next morning, I woke with a fresh surge of power running through my veins.
I spent the morning practicing throwing punches in the gym located on the first floor of the villa. I had never had a warrior training like those with the active wolves, yet somehow, the moment I saw the punching bag, I knew exactly what to do.
The sensation was exhilarating – pure energy flowing through my body, strengthening me from within.
After two hours of rigorous practice, my phone rang. The number was familiar, though I hadn't seen it on my screen in weeks. Constantine Crane – my former grandfather-in-law.
I felt reluctant to answer, but decided to pick up anyway. "Hello?"
"Amelie, my dear," His voice sounded weaker than I remembered. "I know I have no right to ask anything of you, but... could you come see me? One last time?"
I had to admit that that request surprised me. Constantine had been the only one in the Crane family who had shown me any kindness during my three years of humiliation.
"What's wrong?" I asked, genuine concern in my voice. "Are you ill?"
"Just an old man wanting to make amends," he replied vaguely. "Please, Amelie. Just for a little while."
I sighed – I still had a soft spot for that man. "Alright. I'll be there in an hour."
***
The Crane family mansion looked exactly as I remembered – an imposing building that had once represented all my failures. Now, as I approached the front door, I felt strangely detached from the dread this place had once inspired.
The door swung open before I could even knock. Amanda Crane, Sam's mother, stood there with her usual sour expression.
"Oh, it's you," she said, as though I were a particularly persistent beggar. "Father is in his study." She turned without another word, leaving me to follow.
The house was unusually quiet. As we passed the living room, I noticed boxes stacked against the wall – some labeled "Charity," others – "Storage."
"Cleaning up?" I asked just for the sake of it.
Amanda sniffed. "Not that it's any of your concern, but Miranda is helping me redecorate. New beginnings and all that."
Once we reached the study, Amanda paused right at the door and turned to face me. "Five minutes. He needs his rest." She rapped sharply on the door before walking away.
I entered to find Constantine Crane seated in his favorite armchair by the window, a thick book in his hand. The once-formidable man now looked vulnerable and small, his shoulders hunched, his face pale and devoid of emotion. But his eyes lit up the moment he saw me.
"Amelie, you came," he said, genuine warmth in his voice. "I wasn't sure you would."
"I told you I would," I said softly, taking the chair opposite him. "You're the only one in this family who ever showed me any kindness."
Suddenly, Constantine's face contorted with regret. "Not enough, I'm afraid. I should have stood up for you more. The way they treated you..." He shook his head. "It wasn't right."
"Why did you want to see me?" I jumped straight to the point, not willing to discuss the matter any further.
He reached for a small box on the side table. "I wanted to return this to you. Sam's new woman was going to throw it away."
Inside the box was my mother's ring – a simple gold band with a flower ornament carved all over. I thought I had lost it forever.
"Thank you," I said, genuinely happy to have it back. "This means a lot to me."
"Amelie, I—" Constantine began, but was interrupted as the door burst open.
Sam swept in, dressed impeccably and with a new haircut, which I suppose was his new lover's idea.
His face twisted with disdain when he saw me. "What are you doing here?"
"I invited her," Constantine said firmly. "We're having a private conversation, if you're still having troubles piecing that together."
Sam ignored his grandfather, his attention focused entirely on me. "I see you're still wearing those pathetic clothes. I thought you'd latched onto someone else already?"
I remained silent, calmly putting the ring in my pocket.
His smile turned vicious as he drew an envelope from the pocket of his jacket. "Look what I received yesterday." He waved it in my face – an invitation with the Grant family crest emblazoned on it. "The Grant family banquet. I'll be sitting among the city's elite while you..." He scoffed. "Well, you'll be wherever the garbage ends up these days."
"Samuel, that's enough," Constantine growled sharply.
"No, Grandfather, she needs to understand her place!" He turned back to me, scowling. "Miranda says the Grants are looking to form new partnerships. Important partnerships. With important people. Not failed nobodies like you."
I rose from my seat slowly, my face expressionless. "I should go. Thank you for returning the ring, Mr. Crane."
Sam blocked my path, looking down on me with narrowed eyes. "Are you really still trying to play hardball here? No begging to take you back? No tears?" He seemed almost disappointed by my calm demeanor.
I looked at him firmly, disgust churning my stomach to the point that I actually felt physically sick. Without my rose-tinted glasses of love and admiration, I could now see how ugly he actually looked.
"Goodbye, Samuel," I said coldly. "I genuinely hope this bitterness will someday go away."
His face flushed with anger at my indifference. "Get out! You never belonged here anyway! You were nothing but a charity case!"
I walked past him, pausing only to give Constantine's hand a friendly squeeze. "Thank you for everything. Take care."
As I walked toward the door, Sam continued his tirade, her voice rising to a comedic pitch of hysteria. "You'll see me at the top of society while you rot in a ditch! Blood Moon will welcome me into their circle, while they wouldn't even let you clean their toilets!"
I didn't look back, didn't respond – it was beneath me. His words, once capable of cutting me to the core, now bounced off me like raindrops off a window.
The front door closed behind me with a final bang. As I walked down the driveway, I felt a strange lightness in my chest. This chapter of my life was truly over. And I no longer had anyt regrets.