Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Seventeen
He stands before me with that smug little tilt of his head and that ridiculous cologne I used to find charming before I realized the man wearing it was rotten from the inside out.
“I want what I’m owed,” Théo says, voice low and venomous. “Your father made damn sure I couldn’t get a single client to return my calls in this city. Every contact I had vanished overnight. France has been full of rejection, closed doors, and fake smiles. And I’m tired of pretending I don’t know who orchestrated it.”
He steps forward. I remain still.
“You owe me, Mia. And I’m here to collect.”
My eyes widen, then narrow as the full absurdity of his words settles in. For a moment, I almost feel bad for him, until I remember every lie he fed me, every manipulative trick he pulled, every night he used my name to unlock doors and sleep in silk sheets he never earned.
And I burst out laughing. It isn’t polite. It isn’t quiet. It breaks from my chest like a cannon blast, the kind that carries through the office and leaves no room for confusion.
“You’re fucking insane.”
His smirk tightens, but I don’t stop.
“You used me, Théo. You slept in my bed, drank my wine, borrowed my car, and kissed my neck with those same lips you fed to the press like poetry. You didn’t love me. You loved what I gave you access to. And now you’re angry the ride has ended?”
His jaw ticks. “You were irrelevant until I made you interesting.”
“Interesting?” My voice rises. “You turned me into a punchline. You photographed me in secret, leaked our relationship, and called it art. You embarrassed me in every way that counted.”
He steps closer, faster now, his hands twitching. Something inside him simmers and he wants to see me flinch. He’s trying to rile me, to throw off the control he always hated.
“You think your father’s money and your husband’s position keep you safe? That makes you think you can speak to me like this?”
I begin to move around the desk, placing calm space between us.
“You were never the mystery. You were the mask I wore while building my name.”
“You’re delusional,” I answer.
His voice turns quiet. “You owe me. I’m not leaving until I get what I came for.”
He grabs my arm. It isn’t violent, but the pressure is there. His fingers dig, steady and entitled. My spine straightens and my body freezes.
The door blasts open. Niklas charges through the threshold with the weight of a force that doesn’t belong in any human room. The air changes the second he crosses it. That deep heat that always coils in my belly when his wolf edges close rises hard and fast. His eyes find mine in a second. Then they flick to Théo’s hand around my arm. The shift inside him is instant. Every part of him responds. His spine lengthens, his muscles pulse beneath his suit, and that wild flicker glows behind his gaze…the unnatural blue that only I have seen up close in the dark. Every inch of him coils tighter with each breath. His Alpha presence expands, fills the room like smoke from a lightning strike. I feel it first in my chest. Then across my skin.
He reaches Théo in three strides and lifts him by the collar with one hand. His growl vibrates through the floor. The punch lands with precision. Théo’s body slams into the table, then drops to the marble floor in a heap of flailing limbs and blood. His groan is sharp, broken, and unprepared for the violence behind it. Niklas breathes once. Just once. Then he turns to me. His chest moves in even, silent rhythm. That storm behind his eyes stays glowing. The wolf hasn’t gone far.
He pulls me into his arms. His hand at my back grips tight. His body presses flush against mine. I feel the pulse of restrained instinct still moving through him. He breathes me in, long and slow, as if scent grounds him more than sight ever could.
Théo groans and shifts on the floor, lifting himself with blood across his lip. “You’ll regret this,” he spits. “I’ll sue. You think this is over?”
Niklas doesn’t look at him. His focus stays on me. I see the heat still climbing his neck. His control isn’t thin. It’s focused. Channeled. Ready to snap if Théo lifts so much as a finger again.
“Go ahead,” Niklas says finally, his voice iron wrapped in velvet. “Try it. I’ll have my lawyers drain you before sunrise.”
There is a knock on the door and two security officers enter. Their posture stiffens at the sight of Théo still slumped on the ground. One of them has already spoken to Marianne, probably from the second Théo crossed the front desk. They move without asking.
Théo thrashes once, yelling words that no longer hold power. “You’ll pay. You think this ends here?”
They drag him out, bloodied and loud, his curses swallowed by the closing door.
Niklas turns me fully. His hands come to my cheeks, cupping my face. His thumbs move with careful pressure. He studies me like he’s mapping the damage. Like he’s checking every place Théo looked too long. His pine scent surrounds me. His heat seeps in.
His mouth claims mine with heat and force, every motion deliberate and unyielding. There’s hunger in it, a deep, relentless need that pulls me under before I can even catch my breath. His hands frame my face, fingers sinking into my hair, holding me in place as his lips part mine, and his tongue sweeps in with devastating purpose. My heart races. My body leans into his instinctively. I grip his shirt, pulling him closer, anchoring myself to the strength pouring off him. His scent wraps around me as he deepens the kiss, his mouth slanting over mine with urgency. His sharp teeth scrape lightly against my bottom lip and I gasp, the sound swallowed between us as he growls softly, pressing harder.. Each movement of his mouth is a statement. Each stroke of his tongue leaves me trembling.
He kisses me like the world doesn’t exist beyond this moment. Like nothing else matters but the taste of my mouth and the fire between us. When he pulls back, I’m dazed. My hands grip his jacket like I need the anchor.
“Are you alright?” he asks, voice rough, lined with that edge I only hear when the wolf is close.
I nod once.
His expression turns grim. “Say it.”
“I’m alright,” I whisper.
He breathes out and lowers his forehead to mine. He holds me there, one hand still at my back, the other pressed lightly against the mark on my hand. His wolf settles behind his ribs, but I feel it still watching. Waiting. Always ready.