Faking It with the Billionaire Alpha

Freya's POV

The black dress I chose for today was a deliberate fucking statement. Deep plunging neckline that showed off the girls like they were the main attraction at a goddamn museum. Floor-length silk that clung to every curve like a possessive lover. The back dipped so low you could almost see the crack of my ass.

Fuck you, Caleb.

That's what the dress screamed. That's what I wanted it to say, anyway.

Inside, I was dying. Not that anyone could tell. I'd perfected the art of looking like I didn't give a shit when actually, my heart was being carved out with a rusty spoon.

Five years. Five years of being Alpha's wife. The love. The happiness.The respect.

Gone.

All because some twenty-two-year-old with perky tits and a fated bond walked through the door.

I loved this kind of happiness. I really fucking did. And now I was about to lose everything because my husband couldn't keep his tongue out of another woman's mouth.

The Pack House Grand Hall looked exactly the same as it had two nights ago. Same crystal chandeliers. Same white roses. Same gold trim everywhere like a vampire pimp had decorated it.

But today, there were no congratulations. No envious stares.

Today, everyone was here to watch me get discarded like yesterday's trash.

I swept through the entrance, chin high, smile sharp. Let them stare. Let them gossip. I'd give them something to talk about.

Mia found me within thirty seconds.

Of course she did.

The little bitch wore pale pink. Pale fucking pink. Like she was some innocent flower and not the woman who'd had her tongue down my husband's throat at my anniversary party.

She stepped directly into my path, blocking me from the main hall.

"Freya." Her voice was syrupy sweet. Venomous underneath. "I see you're alone."

I let my eyes drift over her outfit slowly. Judgingly.

"Nice dress. Very virgin sacrifice. Appropriate, considering you're about to steal someone else's husband."

Mia's smile faltered. Good.

"I'm just glad Caleb and I can finally be together. Without..." She gestured vaguely at me. "Obstacles."

Breathe. Don't claw her eyes out in front of witnesses.

"Obstacles?" I laughed. The sound echoed through the foyer. "Honey, I was the best thing that ever happened to that man. He's just too much of an idiot to realize it yet."

Mia's jaw tightened. She stepped closer, lowering her voice.

"Where's this mysterious fated mate of yours? You know, the one you claimed to have found?" Her eyes glittered with malicious glee. "Seems a little convenient that no one's ever seen him. Almost like he doesn't exist."

Stay calm. Stay fucking calm.

"My gorgeous fiancé is outside." I waved my hand airily. "Buying me ice cream."

Mia blinked. "Ice cream?"

"It's ninety degrees out there, sweetie. And honestly?" I leaned in, dropping my voice to a theatrical whisper. "Being around you people makes me need something sweet to wash down the taste of bullshit."

Several nearby guests snorted. Someone actually clapped.

Mia's face flushed pink. Deeper pink. Ugly pink.

"You're lying," she hissed. "There's no man. You're bluffing because you can't stand losing."

I smiled wider. Showed teeth.

"Guess we'll find out, won't we?"

I side stepped her and continued into the main hall.

Caleb stood at the front, near the ceremonial altar. He wore black today. Sombre. Appropriate for a funeral.

Our funeral.

His eyes tracked me the moment I entered. Dark circles underneath. Two days of guilt carved into his handsome face.

Good. Suffer, bastard.

The ceremony was simple. Brutally so.

We stood facing each other. Witnesses surrounded us in a wide circle. The Pack Elder recited the ancient words, his voice monotone and bored.

"Do you, Caleb, Alpha of the Hunter Pack, reject Freya as your mate?"

Caleb's throat worked. His eyes stayed locked on mine. Pain flickered there. Regret. Longing.

I don't care. I don't fucking care.

"I..." His voice cracked. "I reject Freya as my mate."

The words hit like a physical blow. I felt the phantom bond snap somewhere in my chest. A thread I hadn't even known existed, severed.

My turn.

"Do you, Freya, reject Caleb as your mate?"

I didn't hesitate.

"I reject Caleb as my mate."

Done. Over. Finished.

The Elder nodded once. "The bond is dissolved. You are no longer mates."

Caleb's face crumpled. Something inside me twinged. Pity. Just pity. Not love.

"Freya, wait—" He stepped toward me.

I held up my hand.

"Save it. I meant what I said the other night. Your small cock? Mia's problem now. Enjoy your little snake."

Gasps rippled through the crowd.

I turned away, heart racing, and walked toward the side entrance where the wedding ceremony was supposed to take place next.

If there was going to be a wedding.

My dress swished against the marble floor. The weight of every stare pressed against my spine.

The wedding guests had already gathered in the secondary hall. Flowers everywhere. White and gold. A fucking beautiful setup for a bride who might be standing alone at the altar.

My heels clicked against the floor as I approached. Each step felt like walking through wet cement.

He'll come. He said he'd come.

But doubt clawed at my stomach.

I didn't even know his name. I'd hired a stranger at a sex club and trusted him to show up for the most important performance of my life.

What if he'd changed his mind? What if he'd taken one look at the Pack House and fled? What if he'd just... forgotten?

The guests' murmurs grew louder. Confused whispers. People glancing toward the entrance, then back at me.

Standing alone. No groom.

My palms started sweating. I clutched my sequined clutch so hard the beads dug into my palm.

He's not coming. Holy shit, he's not coming.

Panic crept up my throat.

I'd rather die than let Caleb see me humiliated twice in one week.

My eyes darted toward the exit. Maybe I could flee. Claim an emergency. Sudden illness.

Anything.

"Is she really getting married today?"

"I heard her mate is imaginary."

"Probably just saving face after Caleb—"

I wanted to scream. To tell every single one of them to go fuck themselves.

Then the doors flew open.

A hush fell over the crowd.

I turned.

And there, standing in the doorway with light streaming behind him like some goddamn avenging angel, was him.

Taller than I remembered. Broader. Shoulders that blocked out the sun.

That sharp jaw. That tousled dark hair. Those piercing gray-blue eyes that found mine instantly.

Walking. Sin. On two legs.

The stranger from The Velvet Room.

He wore a black suit today. Tailored. Expensive. It screamed power the way his charcoal one had.

But something was different.

He looked at me like I was the only woman in the room.

Like he'd burn down the entire world just to get to me.

Fuck me.

"It's him!" someone whispered. "She actually found him!"

"Who is that?"

"Never seen him before."

"He's gorgeous!"

I barely heard them.

Because his lips curved into that familiar wicked smile, and I knew with sudden, terrifying certainty that nothing in my life would ever be the same.

He started walking toward me.

Every step deliberate. Confident. Like he owned the entire Pack and everyone in it.

My heart hammered.

He came. The beautiful bastard actually came.

He stopped inches away from me, close enough that I could smell him. Sandalwood and something darker. Something that made my thighs clench.

"Sorry I'm late," he murmured, voice like velvet sin. "Wanted to make an entrance."

I stared up at him, words tangled in my throat.

Those gray-blue eyes gleamed.

"Ready to get married, sweetheart?"