The moment I saw him clearly, the air left my lungs.
Fabian Norton.
He looked almost the same as I remembered from university only sharper. The softness in his features was gone. His jaw was more defined now, his shoulders broader, his posture straighter. He carried himself like someone who had grown into power. Not loud power. The quiet, controlled kind.
But what changed the most was his expression.
The warmth I once knew had disappeared completely. In its place was something cold and severe. His eyes no longer searched a room with gentle curiosity. They scanned it like territory.
He was listening to reports from his subordinates, nodding occasionally, giving short, precise instructions. His tone was calm, authoritative. Pack leader energy without effort.
Not once did his gaze land on me.
He walked past where I stood, entered the Chief Editor's office, and shut the door behind him.
I realized only then that my fingers were trembling.
Fabian Norton… why are you back?
Two years ago, he had left without a word. No explanation. No goodbye. Just gone.
I had spent months waiting for a message that never came. Eventually, I forced myself to accept it. Whatever we had once shared was over.
But seeing him again felt like reopening a wound that had never truly healed.
Did he recognize me?
A bitter smile touched my lips.
Does it matter?
We were never meant to stay together. Fate had made that clear. I had a mate now. A bond sealed before the council. I belonged to another Alpha.
Still, the ache in my chest refused to fade.
The rest of the day passed in a blur. I kept expecting him to call me out, to look at me with recognition. But meeting after meeting filled his schedule. He was busy restructuring the company, discussing changes, reviewing performance reports.
In the conference room, I sat at the far end of the table while he listened to department heads speak. He gave feedback, made decisions, adjusted strategies.
He never once looked at me.
It felt like I was invisible.
Maybe he truly doesn't remember me.
Or maybe I never meant enough to remember.
If I had mattered, he wouldn't have disappeared without a word two years ago.
The hours dragged painfully. When it was finally time to leave, I grabbed my bag quickly, eager to escape before anything else could happen.
"Vivian."
My steps froze.
Lesley Jenson stood behind me, her arms crossed. "Take this document to Mr. Norton and give him a verbal summary."
My heart dropped.
"Lesley, I actually have something urgent at home. Could someone else "
She cut me off sharply. "Oh? Too good for errands now? Just because you interviewed Alpha Finnick, you think you're untouchable?"
Her words were loud enough for others to hear.
Heat crawled up my neck. "That's not what I meant. I'll go."
I took the file from her hands.
Every step toward Fabian's office felt heavier than the last. Standing outside the door, I forced myself to breathe slowly.
Knock. Knock.
My knuckles barely touched the wood, but it felt like I had used all my strength.
"Come in."
His voice was the same. Deeper now, steadier. But still familiar enough to twist something inside me.
I pushed the door open.
The office was modern and polished. Not as imposing as Finnick's headquarters, but still luxurious. Fabian sat behind his desk, flipping through the magazine issue that featured Finnick's interview.
Seeing Finnick's face on that glossy page sent a strange ripple through me. My mate's presence lingered even here, far from our territory.
"Mr. Norton," I said, keeping my tone formal. "Senior Editor Jenson asked me to report on the interview with Alpha Finnick."
He hummed slightly without lifting his head.
I began speaking. My voice sounded distant to my own ears as I summarized the details. I kept my eyes on the document, afraid that if I looked at him, everything inside me would spill out.
When I finished, silence filled the room.
He still didn't look up.
"Sir… if there's nothing else, I'll be going."
I turned toward the door, desperate to leave.
My hand had just touched the handle when fingers wrapped tightly around my wrist.
I gasped.
Fabian had moved so quickly I hadn't even heard him stand. His grip was firm, not painful, but unyielding. His eyes were locked on my left hand.
On my ring.
"You're married?" he asked quietly.
I couldn't meet his gaze. I turned my face away and nodded.
His fingers tightened slightly. I felt the tension in him, coiling beneath the surface.
Then he laughed softly.
A mocking, hollow sound.
"Vivian William," he said, voice edged with disdain, "so this is the man you chose? This plain ring is all he could afford?"
His eyes traveled over me coldly. "Then again, a woman who sells herself for money can always find someone willing to pay."
The words hit like a slap.
For a moment, I couldn't breathe.
"You… you knew?" My voice shook. "You knew about what happened two years ago?"
"Yes," he said flatly. "I knew. I knew before everyone else did."
My heart pounded painfully against my ribs.
"I should thank you," he continued, his tone icy. "You showed me how foolish I was. Loving someone like you for three years." His jaw tightened. "Because of you, I left the country. I focused on strengthening myself. I learned not to trust so easily."
Every word felt like a blade.
Two years ago, when everything collapsed around me, he had already been gone. I had thought he abandoned me at my lowest point.
Now I understood.
He thought I had betrayed him.
But something didn't add up.
He said he knew before it became public. Before the rumors spread. Before I even understood what was happening.
How?
The question flashed through my mind, but there was no time to dwell on it.
I tried to pull my hand free. "Fabian, it was a misunderstanding. What happened back then wasn't what you think. I didn't "
His grip remained firm, his expression unreadable.
And for the first time, I felt something dangerous stir in the air.