Chapter Twenty-Three

KEAGAN'S POV ~

"What are you doing?" My voice came out hoarse and thick, a wave of disgust washing over me.

Emma bit her lip and attempted to touch me, but I swiftly evaded her.

"FUCKING GET DRESSED!" I snapped and she gasped. Ignoring the broken expression on her features, I brushed past her to change my clothes.

"Why won't you touch me, Keagan?! I'm your wife! I have the right to demand sex whenever I want! Don't you think you're being unfair?" Her voice cracked, and she broke into tears, but I remained unmoved. Instead, I felt irritation crawling over my skin.

I turned to give her a look of disdain, glaring at her with loathing. "No! You're wrong. Just because we're married doesn't give you the damn right to barge into my room and spew nonsense when I can have you thrown out onto the street anytime I desire! You are nothing but the mother of my children. Nothing more, Emma. I repeat, nothing fucking more! I made that clear the first time I ever slept with you. I only needed an heir and you fucking provided that."

Emma slowly gulped, her eyes still brimming with tears. "I... I understand. You're still hurting from Jessica's death, and it's fine. I'm not a pushy person; I'll wait for you to grieve and get over it, Keagan. I love you. Only you, and I don't care how long I'll have to wait to have you entirely to myself again." Her lips wobbled, and she spun around to pick up her clothing from the ground, put it on, and slowly left my room.

I heaved a heavy sigh of relief when she was gone before walking to the door and locking it. I made my way back to the bed and slumped onto it.

No matter how hard I tried to drift off to sleep, I just couldn't find rest. Several images of Jessica and I kept swirling in my head. After an hour of tossing and turning fruitless, I leaped from the damned bed.

The bed felt like needles had been placed all around it, and I couldn't sleep on it anymore.

I slowly moved to the top shelf where I had placed a large box containing the wedding photos of Jessica and me.

There was so much sorrow in that box that it slightly terrified me to even approach it. It reminded me of how her body had been burnt terribly into nothing but ashes and bones.

I gulped down the pain that was shooting through my throat, the anguish that was trying to lock down my mind. I clutched the box tightly and slid to the ground--my back to the bed frames--unable to hold back the emotions that overwhelmed me.

"I'm sorry," I muttered to the box, clutching it to my heart. My eyes stung, and my jaw clenched to hold back the painful tears burning behind my lids.

Slowly, I unlocked the box and brought out the first picture, which she had taken without my knowledge. It was a photo of me, totally drenched after popping a balloon filled with milk—a prank she had tricked me into.

A bitter smile made its way to my lips and I traced my fingers over the milk in the picture.

My chest tightened as a wave of grief washed over me, making it difficult to breathe. The weight of sorrow was like a physical force, crushing down on my shoulders and making me feel small and helpless. Every muscle in my body tensed as if bracing against the pain. My eyes burned with unshed tears, and I could feel the pressure building behind them.

My throat constricted, and I tried to swallow the lump that had formed there, but it remained stubbornly in place. A shuddering breath escaped my lips as I clenched my fists, willing myself to stay in control. 

Memories played out in my mind, each one a bittersweet reminder of what had been lost. I stared at the box of photos, my vision blurring as I struggled to focus on the images.

Exhaling one last sigh, I slid to the tiles, my face to the ceiling, and shut my eyes, holding the photograph close to my heart.

As a drop of tear wiggled its way past my tightly held lids, I wished she could rest in perfect peace. 

```

The next morning, I slowly descended the stairs to the dining room for breakfast. As I approached the door, an odd scene unfolded before my eyes.

Emma's jaw was clenched as she glared at our kids, who were eating, seemingly nonchalant about her stare.

"What's going on?" I questioned, making my way to take my seat at the head of the table.

With gritted teeth, Emma pointed at William and Wilhelmina. "These kids are..." She fumed, her chest heaving. My expression tightened. "These kids are just too much! I made some oats, and just look at it, right on the floor!" She yelled, her voice tight with anger.

I peeked at the side of the floor to see some spilled oats, and my brows furrowed. I hadn't noticed it at first.

"It was a mistake, Emma. You should calm down," I told her in a composed tone, though my expression hinted at a brewing storm.

Emma slammed her fists on the table and rose to her feet. "Of course! You always support them, and whatever they say always holds! What about me, their mother? Don't I matter?! I'm out of here!" She threw a venomous look at the kids before storming away, and I simply watched, making no effort to call her back.

Turning my gaze to the kids, they both looked at me with their innocent eyes, causing whatever I was about to say next to die down in my throat.

"Eat up, kids, you're late for school," I said instead, watching them jump down from their chairs and hurry toward me. "Your school bus is here already."

"Bye, Daddy," they said in unison, leaning in to kiss my cheek. "We're late," they mumbled, hurrying away from the dining room. There was this glint in their eyes that speaks volumes of their mischief but I didn't bother to reprimand them. 

My brows knitted as I watched them leave. Stabbing a piece of toast with a fork, I slowly rose from my seat, my mind preoccupied with the morning's events.

"Good morning, Alpha," my Beta greeted, to which I responded with a nod. "The model has arrived and is waiting in your office," he informed me, causing my brows to rise in surprise.

This was the fastest deal I had ever made with any celebrity. Nodding my head, I walked past my employees, who all stopped to greet me as I made my way to my office.

The door opened, and I slowly walked in, followed by my Beta. A young lady, who appeared to be in her mid-twenties, sat with her legs crossed, a magazine in her hands. Her long eyelashes batted as she swept her eyes across the pages.

For a moment, I found my steps faltering, as it felt so strange. I had no idea why I was intently staring at her. Everything around me seemed to fade, the light zeroing in on her.

When her eyes slowly glided away from her magazine to meet my gaze, I felt my breath instantly seize my chest.

"Hello, Mr. Hall," a man, probably in his early thirties, said as he stood up and came to stand before me with an outstretched hand. I ignored him, my eyes glued to the brown-haired woman.

I heard my Beta clear his throat beside me, and the trance-like state this strange woman had put me in instantly vanished.

I continued to ignore the man and turned to stare fully at the woman, who still hadn't removed her gaze from me. I saw the man's face fall in embarrassment, but he didn't dare speak. As for the brown-haired lady, her lips were pursed, and there was no smile on her face. She stared at me as if I were some old enemy, blue eyes gleaming with an icy glare.

"Sorry, Alpha, let me introduce you both," my Beta quickly apologized, misinterpreting my expression as one of annoyance. "Alpha, this is Sylvia Reynolds, the A-list model in the country and a famous one with over 23 million followers across her social media handles." I nodded at that.

Turning to her, my Beta introduced me. "Miss Reynolds. This is Alpha Keagan Hall, your new boss if the deal is met and agreed upon. He's the owner of Hall Corps. and several other affiliated companies in the country."

I couldn't help but notice how beautiful she looked. A cold beauty. The smile she threw at me was nothing short of professional and once her hands were outstretched, like a magnet, my hand moved as well. 

And the moment our palms came in contact with each other, a potent charge of electricity jolted through my body, so intense that I almost jerked away, wondering if she felt it too.

My wolf stirred and it was the first time it had reacted to any female. Suddenly, a scent wafted into my nostrils, and every cell in my body stiffened. My blood ran cold on perceiving the familiar scent I'd been begging for, for the past eight years.

....