Chapter 57 Chapter 57

Chapter 57 Chapter 57
Luke was reviewing quarterly reports when the door to the office opened. He looked up, fully expecting another board member or assistant, and froze.
Stetson stood in the doorway.
Not the broken, drunk shell of a man Luke had been putting to bed for weeks. This was Stetson cleaned up—showered, dressed in a sharp suit, hair combed back. He looked like the Alpha he was supposed to be, even if his eyes still carried that hollow, haunted quality.
Stetson looked like a shell of his former self. Luke didn’t hate Zarlia for what she did, it was part of what the moon goddess had planned so all he could do was watch it play out—it was amusing and disappointing to him all at once.
"Alpha," Luke said, standing immediately.
The office erupted into whispers as Stetson walked through. Employees straightened, murmuring greetings, clearly shocked to see their CEO back after his extended absence. Stetson acknowledged them with barely a nod, his expression unreadable.
Luke followed him into his private office, closing the door behind them.
"Morning briefing," Luke said, falling into the familiar rhythm as he pulled up files on the tablet. "The merger with Techvolt is proceeding as planned. Board meeting is scheduled for Thursday. The quarterly earnings exceeded projections by twelve percent. Henderson from marketing needs sign-off on the new campaign. And there are seventeen documents requiring your signature."
He laid the stack of papers on Stetson's desk, along with several folders marked urgent.
Stetson sat down heavily, pulling the first document toward him. He read in silence, his pen moving across the pages with mechanical precision.
"I'm glad you're back," Luke said quietly.
Stetson didn't respond. His expression remained dim, distant—like he was moving through the motions of life without actually being present for any of it.
Luke recognized that look. He'd seen it on wolves who'd lost their mates. The walking dead, they called them. Bodies that kept functioning while their souls had already departed. He was glad Zarlia wasn’t dead yet, if not Stetson would be nothing but a mindless wolf.
"More letters came from the pack," Luke continued, gesturing to the sealed envelopes he'd placed on the corner of Stetson's desk. "Your father's getting more insistent. Viktor's influence is growing. The three-month deadline—"
"I need to discuss something important with you," Stetson interrupted, setting down his pen. His voice was flat, emotionless.
Luke waited, sensing this wasn't about business.
\- -​-
Caroline clutched her phone, pacing in front of the Martinez family estate. The building loomed before her—all old money and intimidation, the kind of house designed to remind you of your place in the hierarchy.
Her phone rang. Zarlia.
"Hey," Caroline answered, trying to inject cheerfulness into her voice.
"What's going on? Are you okay?"
"I'm fine. Just... on my way inside. About to face the firing squad." Caroline forced a laugh. "Wish me luck?"
"Caroline, wait. Yesterday—you said something happened with your stalker. What actually—"
"Oh my God, Zarlia, it was insane!" Caroline couldn't help the grin spreading across her face despite her nerves about the impending confrontation. "So remember how I told you about him? Well, turns out he's my neighbor. Like, literally next door. Can you believe it?"
"Caroline—"
"And I went over there last night with food—well, I tried to cook but that was a disaster, so I ordered food and pretended I made it—and he put a knife to my throat when I walked in!" Caroline was talking faster now, the words tumbling out. "But like, not in a scary way? More like a 'teaching me a lesson' way? And then he had his hand on my neck and told me I was trouble, and Zarlia, I swear, his voice—"
"What's his name?" Zarlia's voice was strained, urgent.
"Luke. His name is Luke." Caroline paused at the front steps. "He's got this whole mysterious, dangerous thing going on. Long hair, wears glasses when he's home, looks way too young but acts like he's seen everything. And he's so stoic, you know? Like nothing fazes him. But last night I kissed his throat and he just—"
"Caroline, describe him. What does he look like exactly?"
"Um, tall? Really tall. Dark hair that falls to about here—" Caroline gestured even though Zarlia couldn't see. "Lean but muscular, like a fighter. These intense dark eyes that seem to glow sometimes in certain light. He's got this controlled way of moving, like every gesture is calculated. Very hot in a 'might murder you but make it look like an accident' kind of way. Why?"
Silence on the other end. Zalia took in a sharp breath, she couldn’t believe it…Luke. Knowing him, he was probably using Caroline to keep tabs on her.
"Zarlia?"
"I—" Zarlia's voice cracked. "Caroline, I need to tell you something about—"
"Oh, I just pulled up to the house. My stepmom's watching from the window. I have to go. I'll call you right after this nightmare, okay? Wish me luck!"
"Caroline, wait—"
But Caroline had already ended the call, steeling herself as she climbed the steps to the front door.
Zarlia stared at her phone, her hand trembling so badly she nearly dropped it.
Luke.
Tall, dark hair, intense eyes. Controlled. Dangerous. Living next door to Caroline in New york. It couldn't be a coincidence.
Luke was using Caroline. He had to be. He was keeping tabs on Zarlia through her best friend, probably reporting everything back to Stetson. Or worse—what if he was sent by the pack? What if Viktor had found her and sent Luke to—
No. Luke was loyal to Stetson. He wouldn't work for Viktor.
But he would do anything for Stetson. Anything.
Zarlia gripped her bedsheets, her breathing becoming ragged. The paranoia she'd been fighting for weeks came flooding back with crushing force. She'd thought she was safe. Thought she'd escaped. But they'd found her anyway, hadn't they? Through Caroline. Through the one person she'd trusted with the truth.
And now Caroline was falling for him. Caroline, who didn't know what Luke really was, who didn't understand the danger. Caroline, who thought this was some romantic game with an attractive stalker, not realizing she was playing with a predator.
Luke had that all-knowing look in his eyes. Zarlia had noticed it the few times they'd met—like he could see three steps ahead of everyone else, like he knew how every scenario would play out before it happened. He looked mentally unbalanced in a way that was terrifying precisely because it was so controlled. His loyalty to Stetson was absolute, frightening in its intensity. He'd cut his own hands off if Stetson asked him to, and he wouldn't even hesitate.
Luke made decisions without considering consequences. He was unpredictable. Dangerous. And Caroline was kissing his throat like this was some romance novel instead of a nightmare waiting to happen.
Zarlia looked down at her stomach. It had grown noticeably in the past few weeks—no longer just a slight curve but an unmistakable swell. The baby was developing too fast, growing at an accelerated rate that her human body couldn't sustain.
She didn't want Caroline to end up like her. Didn't want her best friend tangled with a werewolf, especially not Luke, anyone but Luke. Didn't want Caroline to know what it felt like to love something that could destroy you, to carry a life that was slowly killing you from the inside out.
Suddenly, pain erupted through Zarlia's abdomen—sharp, vicious, stealing her breath.
She fell from the couch, her knees hitting the hardwood floor with a sickening crack. Blood filled her mouth immediately, more than usual, so much more. It spilled over her lips, dripping onto the floor in dark red puddles.
Her whole body trembled, convulsing with the agony of it. The baby—the pup—was growing stronger, and her body was breaking down faster.
With shaking hands, Zarlia reached for her phone. She could barely see through the tears and pain, but she managed to open her browser, searching for the clinic she'd been avoiding for weeks.
Her fingers fumbled over the screen, booking an appointment.
Tomorrow. 10 AM.
She had to end this. Had to save herself before it was too late.
Even if it meant destroying the last piece of Stetson she had left.
Caroline pushed open the heavy front door, stepping into the marble foyer of her childhood home. It looked exactly the same as it always had—cold, expensive, designed to impress rather than comfort.
Her stepmother, Patricia Martinez, stood at the top of the grand staircase like a queen surveying her domain. She was impeccably dressed as always, her hair in a severe bun, her expression carved from ice.
"Caroline. You're late."
"Traffic," Caroline lied, climbing the stairs.
"He's in the sitting room. With your mother and sister."
Of course, they were all there. Of course, this was going to be a whole family affair, designed to pressure her through sheer numbers and social expectation.
Caroline followed Patricia down the hallway, her heels clicking against the hardwood. Through the open doorway, she could see them—her mother, Clara, looking older and more tired than she remembered. Her stepsister, Vanessa, perched on the settee like a doll someone had posed. And him.
David Chen. The man who'd been engaged to Vanessa. The man Caroline had slept with during one horrible, drunk night when she hadn't known he was anyone's fiancé.
The man who now stared at her like she was the answer to every question he'd ever asked.
"Caroline," her mother said, standing. "Please, sit."
"I'd rather stand."
Patricia's lips thinned. "Don't be dramatic, darling. We're all family here."
"Are we?" Caroline's gaze swept over them. "Because family doesn't usually try to force each other into marriage."
Her step mother just wanted more money. Her sister is looking for a replacement instead of marrying David and her mother—someone who was supposed to be on her side was against her. Her late dad divorced her mother after he found out she had an affair but after he died, she looked for ways to come back to the family and wealth—all hypocrites
"No one's forcing anything," David said, and his voice made Caroline's skin crawl. It was too smooth, too earnest, like he actually believed the words coming out of his mouth. "I just want a chance to talk. To explain how I feel."
"I know how you feel," Caroline said flatly. "You've sent approximately two hundred texts, fifty emails, and left countless voicemails. I think your feelings are pretty clear."
"Then you understand—"
"I understand that you're obsessed. That whatever happened between us was a mistake. That you need to move on and leave me alone."
"Caroline!" Patricia's voice cracked like a whip. "That's enough. David has been nothing but patient and understanding. He's offering you an incredible opportunity—"
"To be his wife?" Caroline laughed, the sound sharp and bitter. "How generous."
"The merger alone would be worth—" her mother started.
"I don't care about the merger," Caroline interrupted. "I don't care about the company. I don't care about any of this."
Vanessa finally spoke, her voice high and strained. "But I care. The family cares. You ruined my engagement, Caroline. The least you could do is make it right."
"Make it right?" Caroline turned to her stepsister. "You want me to marry your ex-fiancé to make it right? Do you hear how insane that sounds?"
"It makes perfect sense," Patricia said coldly. "You created this problem. You fix it. David wants you. The company needs this merger. Your family needs you to stop being selfish and do your duty."
"My duty," Caroline repeated slowly. "My duty is to marry a man I don't love, who I slept with once by accident, who is now stalking me, just so the Martinez family can make more money? That's my duty?"
"Yes," Patricia said simply. "That's exactly what it is."
David stood, moving toward Caroline with his hands raised like she was a frightened animal he needed to soothe. "Caroline, please. Just give me a chance. Let me take you to dinner. Let me show you—"
"No." Caroline stepped back. "I already told you. My heart belongs to someone else."
"Who?" David's expression shifted, something dark flashing behind his eyes. "Who is he? This mystery man you keep mentioning but won't name?"
"That's none of your business."
"It is my business," David said, his voice rising. "You're mine, Caroline. You just don't realize it yet. That night we had together—it meant something. It changed everything. I know you felt it too."
"I felt drunk," Caroline said. "That's what I felt."
"You're being cruel," her mother said quietly. "David loves you. He's willing to forgive your... indiscretion. Willing to make you his wife despite everything. The least you could do is—"
"The least I could do?" Caroline's voice rose to match David's. "The least I could do is what, exactly? Throw away my life? My choices? My freedom? Become some trophy wife for a man who can't take no for an answer?"
"Caroline Martinez," Patricia's voice was ice. "You will not speak to your mother that way. You will not disrespect this family. And you will NOT throw away this opportunity because of some childish rebellion."
"This isn't rebellion," Caroline said, and her voice had gone quiet now, dangerous. "This is me saying no. This is me having boundaries. This is me choosing myself over your company and your money and your expectations."
"Then you choose to have nothing," Patricia said. "No family. No support. No name. You walk out that door, and you're not a Martinez anymore."
Caroline looked at her mother, waiting for him to contradict Patricia. Waiting for her to tell her that family was more than business deals and social climbing.
But Clara just looked away.
"Fine," Caroline said, her throat tight. "Then I'm not a Martinez."
She turned toward the door.
"Caroline, wait!" David grabbed her arm.
Caroline spun, and her hand connected with his face in a sharp crack that echoed through the room.
"Don't touch me," she said. "Don't call me. Don't text me. Don't follow me. If I see you anywhere near me again, I'm filing a restraining order. Are we clear?"
David clutched his cheek, his eyes wide with shock and something that looked horribly like excitement.
Caroline didn't wait for a response. She walked out of the sitting room, down the hallway, down the stairs. Behind her, she could hear her stepmother calling her name, her mother's heavy sigh, Vanessa's high-pitched protests.
She didn't stop. Didn't look back.