After My Alpha Husband Exposed My Ex’s Crimes

I could feel the eyes of the room shifting toward us, drawn by the rising volume of Brittany's voice. Her face had twisted into something ugly, her perfectly applied makeup unable to hide the venom beneath.

"She's stalking you, Phillip!" Brittany announced, loud enough for nearby guests to hear. Her voice carried across the marble floor, crystalline with malice. "Look at her—showing up here after seven years, still obsessed with you."

I took a small step backward, my fingers instinctively finding the cool metal of my wedding band. The Luna's necklace seemed to pulse against my skin, a reminder of who I was now—who I had become.

"Victoria Chen is watching," Margaret Ashford murmured as she passed by me, her voice low with warning.

I glanced toward the bar and spotted her—Victoria Chen, the notoriously sharp business journalist whose column could make or break reputations in New York. She was observing our exchange with undisguised interest, her phone partially concealed in her hand.

"I'm not stalking anyone," I said quietly, turning to walk away.

Brittany wasn't finished. She stepped directly into my path, her designer heels clicking aggressively against the floor.

"You can't just show up here and pretend you belong," she hissed. "Everyone knows what you did to Phillip—how you abandoned him when he was just starting his career."

A small crowd had gathered now, drawn by the promise of drama. I could see whispers spreading through the gathering, heads turning our way.

"Phillip has been so successful without you," Brittany continued, her voice rising with each word. "We've both been so successful. And you—you're still the same nobody you always were."

I kept my expression neutral, though inside I was calculating how quickly Leonardo would arrive. The mate bond between us hummed with his approach—he was close, but not yet here.

"You need to leave," I said simply, attempting once more to step around them.

That's when Phillip's hand shot out, gripping my wrist with bruising force. His politician's smile had vanished completely now, replaced by something dark and ugly.

"You don't get to walk away from me," he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "Not again."

The pain in my wrist was sharp, immediate. I looked down at his fingers digging into my skin, then back up at his face—the face I had once loved, now twisted with rage and entitlement.

"Let go of me," I said evenly.

"You think you're still special?" he hissed, leaning closer. "You think you can just show up here and act high and mighty? You owe me, Violet. You owe me for the years I wasted on you."

His breath was hot against my face, carrying the scent of expensive whiskey and cheaper cologne. Behind him, Brittany watched with gleeful satisfaction.

"We need to talk," Phillip continued, his grip tightening. "Come to my hotel later. We'll discuss repayment for all the emotional distress you caused me when you disappeared."

The crowd around us had grown silent, watching the scene unfold with morbid fascination. Victoria Chen's phone was raised now, no longer even pretending to be concealed.

"Repayment?" I repeated, my voice dangerously soft.

"For abandoning me," he clarified, his eyes glittering with malice. "For making me look like a fool in front of everyone in D.C."

Before I could respond, a massive shadow fell between us. A hand the size of a dinner plate clamped onto Phillip's wrist, forcing him to release me instantly.

"Are you injured, Mrs. Snyder?"

The voice was deep, controlled, and utterly deferential. Walker stood before me, his broad shoulders blocking Phillip from my view. He didn't look at Phillip at all—his eyes remained fixed on me, waiting for my response.

"Mrs. Snyder?" Phillip repeated, confusion momentarily replacing his anger.

The crowd murmured, the name rippling through the gathered onlookers like a stone dropped in still water.

"Who the hell are you?" Phillip demanded, trying to wrench his arm free from Walker's grip.

Walker ignored him completely, his focus entirely on me. "Should I call Mr. Snyder?" he asked quietly.

Phillip's face contorted with rage and frustration. "What is this? Some kind of act?" He looked wildly around at the watching crowd. "Is this your new game, Violet? Hiring muscle to make yourself look important?"

Brittany stepped forward, her confidence visibly wavering but her voice still sharp. "This is ridiculous. He's obviously just some actor she paid—"

"Be very careful with your next words," Walker interrupted, finally turning to face her. His voice remained calm, but there was something in his tone that made both Phillip and Brittany fall silent.

The room held its collective breath, waiting for what would happen next.