His Mate in Secret His Shame in Public

I stared at the resignation letter on my desk, the cursor blinking at the end of my signature. One click would send it, finalizing the end of my career at Montgomery Financial. One click to admit defeat.

My hands trembled as they hovered over the mouse. This wasn't how it was supposed to end—not after I'd given everything to this company, to Rhys. But the thought of walking into that basement office tomorrow, relegated to shuffling papers while Rhys and Arden paraded their engagement around the executive floor... I couldn't do it. Wouldn't do it.

Lyra, my wolf, had been restless all night, pacing the confines of my consciousness, urging me to run, to escape this toxic environment before it destroyed us both.

I clicked send.

The relief was immediate and overwhelming, washing over me like a cool wave. I'd expected to feel devastated, broken. Instead, I felt lighter than I had in months.

My phone buzzed almost immediately. I expected it to be HR acknowledging my resignation. Instead, a name I hadn't seen in years flashed across the screen: Leo Vance.

"Poppy Chen," his deep voice rumbled through the speaker. "I heard you might be in the market for a new opportunity."

I frowned, glancing at the timestamp on my resignation email. "How could you possibly know that already?"

Leo chuckled. "Word travels fast in our world, especially when it involves Montgomery's top project manager suddenly becoming available."

"Ex-project manager," I corrected, bitterness seeping into my voice.

"Their loss, potentially my gain," Leo replied smoothly. "I've been following your work for years. The Apex Project was brilliant—your fingerprints were all over it, regardless of who's taking credit now."

Something warm unfurled in my chest—recognition, validation. Things Rhys had withheld while exploiting my talents.

"I'm launching a new division at Vance Capital," Leo continued. "Werewolf-owned, werewolf-run, with none of the old pack politics bullshit. I need someone with your skills, someone who can build something from the ground up."

"Where are you based?" I asked, already knowing I'd say yes, already feeling Lyra's approval rumbling through me.

"Chicago. Fresh start, far from New York's incestuous financial circles."

Chicago. Miles away from Rhys, from the humiliation, from the pitying glances of former colleagues. A clean slate.

"When do you need an answer?" I asked, trying to sound professional rather than desperate.

"Take the weekend," Leo said generously. "But Poppy? I've seen what happened. You deserve better than being someone else's stepping stone."

After we hung up, I sat motionless, staring at the phone. How much did Leo know? How many people had witnessed my public humiliation? The thought made my stomach churn, but the opportunity he offered glimmered like a lifeline in dark water.

I didn't need the weekend. I called him back within the hour and accepted.

---

The following morning, I arrived early to clear out my desk. I'd hoped to avoid the spectacle of colleagues watching me pack, but several were already there, hovering at their cubicles, pretending not to stare.

I recognized the awkward silence, the way conversations died as I approached. They'd all seen the videos of my confrontation with Rhys, all heard the rumors he'd carefully cultivated about my "obsession" with him.

"Need help?"

I looked up to find Maya, my former assistant, standing awkwardly by my desk. We'd been close once—lunch dates, after-work drinks, confidantes in the cutthroat world of finance. But she'd been reassigned to Arden two weeks ago, right before the Apex celebration.

"I'm fine," I said, more coldly than I'd intended.

Her eyes darted around nervously. "Poppy, I didn't know. About you and Rhys, about any of it. He told me you'd requested I be transferred because you were too busy with Apex."

Of course he had. Isolating me had been part of his strategy all along.

"It doesn't matter now," I said, placing my awards in a box. Five years of achievements, reduced to items to be carried out in shame.

"Where will you go?" she asked quietly.

"Chicago," I replied, surprising myself with the hint of excitement in my voice. "Fresh start."

Maya nodded, understanding in her eyes. "Good. You deserve it." She hesitated, then added, "For what it's worth, everyone knows who really made Apex happen. Arden can barely explain the basic structure, let alone the innovative elements that made it successful."

It was small comfort, but comfort nonetheless.

As I sealed the last box, the elevator doors opened, revealing Rhys and Arden, laughing together as they stepped onto the floor. The entire office seemed to hold its breath.

Rhys spotted me immediately, his expression shifting to one of practiced concern. "Poppy," he said, his voice carrying across the suddenly silent floor. "I'd hoped to speak with you before you left."

"I have nothing to say to you," I replied, my voice steady despite the rage boiling inside me.

"I understand you're upset," he continued, approaching my desk with Arden trailing behind him. "But I hope someday you'll see this was for the best. The transfer was meant to give you space to... refocus."

The audacity was breathtaking. Lyra snarled within me, urging me to expose him, to tear into him with tooth and claw. But that's exactly what he wanted—another "emotional outburst" to reinforce his narrative.

Instead, I smiled, cold and sharp. "Congratulations on your engagement," I said, my eyes moving to Arden. "I hope you're a quick study. The Apex maintenance protocols are quite complex."

Arden's smug expression faltered slightly. We both knew she didn't understand the first thing about those protocols—protocols I'd designed.

I picked up my box and walked toward the elevator, head high, ignoring the whispers that followed me. As the doors closed, I caught one last glimpse of Rhys's face—the flicker of uncertainty in his eyes, the first crack in his perfect façade.

He'd expected me to crumble, to beg, to make a scene. My dignity was the one thing he couldn't take from me.

Chicago was waiting. And so was my revenge.

---

On my last day in New York, I stood in my half-empty apartment, surrounded by the remnants of a life I was leaving behind. Each item I packed forced a decision: keep or discard? What deserved to come with me to my new beginning?

The photo of Rhys and me at the company retreat—discard. The lingerie he'd bought me "just because"—burn. The handwritten notes he'd left on my pillow—tear into confetti.

I was methodical in my destruction, erasing every trace of him from my life as he had tried to erase me from his. With each item that hit the trash or went up in flames in my bathroom sink, I felt lighter, freer.

By sunset, all that remained were three suitcases of clothes, books, and the few mementos that had nothing to do with Rhys Montgomery. My apartment, once filled with dreams of a future with him, now echoed with emptiness—and possibility.

Tomorrow, I would board a plane to Chicago. Tomorrow, Poppy Chen would begin again.