Chapter 187 CHAPTER 187
Author’s POV
The vote was not dramatic. It was procedural. Measured and devastating.
The Council chamber was filled beyond capacity when the decision was announced. After hours of deliberation and closed-door consultations, the majority ruled that Alpha Raymond should resign as Mayor of New York pending the outcome of the criminal investigations surrounding his wife and the poisoning of Jon Dover.
It was framed as a temporary measure. But everyone in the room knew what it meant. A fall. A fracture in power.
It was victory for someone unseen.
Alpha Raymond did not argue when the verdict was read. He stood still, eyes forward, hands clasped behind his back. He bowed once. Then he walked out.
—
By nightfall, the estate was quieter than it had ever been. Too quiet for a man who had built his life on influence and command. Alpha Raymond sat alone in his study, a glass of whiskey in his hand. Then another. And another. The resignation replayed in his mind. The accusations. Calderon’s steady voice rang in his head.
The public doubt and calls for his resignation stung more than anything.
He had done everything for stability. For structure.For his family.
And now, Philly was in cuffs, the Council had stripped him of authority and the city he had governed questioned his integrity.
He stood abruptly, the room tilting slightly. He needed air. Or perhaps he needed something else. He stepped out into the dim corridor and walked without direction, the alcohol dulling his usual precision.That was when he saw her. At the far end of the hall.
Silver hair cascading over her shoulders. Blue eyes reflecting the low light like something celestial. For a moment, he thought he was imagining her.
“A goddess,” he breathed.
She didn’t move or speak.
He approached slowly, unsteady but drawn.
“You always appear when I am at my worst,” he murmured.
Anna Trent did not correct him.
He was close now. Close enough to see the exhaustion etched into his face.
“I did everything,” he said quietly, voice breaking in a way it never had before. “Everything to protect them.”
She swallowed.
“They think I used her,” he continued. “They think I weaponized my own wife.”
His laugh was hollow.
“I lost the city. I lost control. I may lose Raymond Industries next.”
He looked at her fully now.
“I even lost you.”
The words struck her like a physical blow.
She stepped forward instinctively, catching his arm as he swayed slightly.
“Alpha Raymond,” she said gently.
But he wasn’t listening to the name. He was looking at her as if she were a memory.
“I never meant for it to cost this much,” he whispered. “I thought I could contain it. Shield everyone.”
His fingers tightened faintly around her wrist.
“I am tired of being the villain in every story.”
Anna’s chest tightened. She signaled to a nearby staff member quietly.
“Help him to his room,” she instructed softly.
They took his weight, guiding him down the hall. She followed.
Once inside his room, he collapsed onto the edge of the bed, still murmuring half-formed thoughts about duty, betrayal, sacrifice. She stayed only until he was settled.
Then she saw an opportunity. She stepped out quietly and walked back toward the study. The door was slightly ajar. Her pulse quickened. She had not planned this. But she needed confirmation. She entered slowly, glancing around before closing the door behind her. The desk drawers were locked.
And the safe too. She knew where he kept the key.Her hands trembled slightly as she retrieved it. The painting shifted aside. The safe clicked open. What caught her attention instead were the letters. And the velvet boxes.
She lifted one. Her breath hitched. She recognized the wrapping paper. The small pressed flower tucked into one envelope. The handwriting.She unfolded one letter slowly.
My dearest goddess…
Her knees weakened.
Goddess.
The name he had just whispered in the hallway. The name she was called by her secret lover.
He was not a ghost. Not a figment of drunken confusion. He was talking to her. The gifts she had received over the weeks.The anonymous packages. The careful distance. The secrecy.
Alpha Raymond had been her silent lover.
The realization crashed over her in waves. Anger. Shame. Disbelief. They all mixed in her chest.
She placed the letter back with trembling hands. Closed the safe. She restored everything precisely as she found it. Then she left.
—
She didn’t return to her room.
She left the estate entirely.
The night air was sharp against her skin as she made her way toward the holding facility where Philly was kept. The guards hesitated but ultimately allowed her a brief visit.
Philly sat behind reinforced glass, iron cuffs still suppressing her fox.
When she saw Anna, her expression shifted and softened.
“You shouldn’t be here,” Philly said quietly.
Anna didn’t speak at first.
She stepped closer, placing her hand against the glass.
Philly mirrored the gesture from the other side.Anna closed her eyes.
“I am sorry,” she whispered.
“For what?” Philly asked gently.
Anna didn’t know. For loving a man she shouldn’t have. For making deals. For surviving at the expense of clarity. For failing to protect.
“For everything,” she said finally.
Philly’s gaze lingered on her.
“You’ve saved me before,” she said softly. “Don’t carry all the blame alone.”
Anna swallowed hard.
She wasn’t sure which part of that forgiveness hurt more.
—
Morning came with clarity and regret. Alpha Raymond woke with a pounding head and fragments of memory.
The vote. The whiskey. The hallway.Goddess. Anna.
His eyes opened fully.
What had he said?
He sat up abruptly. The realization crept in slowly. He had spoken freely. Too freely. He rose and dressed quickly before stepping into the hallway.
“Where is Anna Trent?” he asked the first staff member he encountered.
There was hesitation.
“She did not return last night, Alpha.”
His stomach dropped.
“When did she leave?”
“Shortly after escorting you to your room.”
Understanding dawned. She might have known the truth. He moved quickly now, almost running toward the study.The painting was aligned. The safe was closed.
He left the estate immediately. He knew where she would go.
When he found her later that morning, she was standing near the edge of the city park, staring out over the river. She didn’t turn when he approached.
“You read them,” he said quietly.
“Yes.”
Silence.
“I never meant for you to find out that way.”
She laughed softly, but there was no humor in it.
“How did you mean for me to find out?”
He didn’t have an answer.
“I thought I could protect you from the politics,” he said finally. “From the consequences.”
“By keeping yourself hidden?” she asked.
“Yes.”
She turned then. Anger burned beneath her composure.
“You made me a fool.”
“I made you my only truth,” he corrected.
She stilled.
“When you are around me,” he continued, stepping closer, “the world is quieter. I am not Alpha. I am not mayor. I am not a strategist.” He hesitated. “I am just a man.”
Her breath faltered.
“I love you,” he said simply.
The words hung in the air between them. Raw. Unprotected.
And for the first time since the vote, he looked less like a fallen leader. And more like a man who had finally run out of masks.