I Saw My Mate Kiss My Best Friend

The surveillance equipment arrived in unmarked packages, each device smaller than a matchbox. I spread them across my dining table like pieces of a chess set, their sleek black surfaces reflecting the morning light streaming through my apartment windows.

Twenty-four hours had passed since my rebirth, and the phantom taste of betrayal still lingered on my tongue. But this time, I wouldn't be the naive girl stumbling into her own murder. This time, I would be the hunter.

I slipped the first camera into my purse, its weight barely noticeable. Lucas had given me the penthouse keycode months ago, back when I'd believed his gesture was romantic rather than possessive. Now it would be his undoing.

The Silvermoon Tower's elevator hummed as it carried me to the forty-second floor. My reflection in the polished steel doors showed a woman composed, elegant even. No one would suspect the predator lurking beneath my designer dress and pearl necklace.

Lucas's penthouse was exactly as I remembered—all marble and chrome, cold as his heart. I moved through the space with practiced efficiency, placing cameras in strategic locations. One behind the bookshelf overlooking the living room. Another tucked into the crown molding above his bed. The third, most crucial one, positioned to capture the mahogany dresser where I'd witnessed his betrayal.

My hands remained steady as I worked, muscle memory guiding me through rooms that had once felt like home. The irony wasn't lost on me—I was bugging the apartment where I'd planned to live as his wife.

The corporate office required more finesse. Silvermoon Industries buzzed with activity, executives and assistants rushing between meetings like worker bees serving their queen. But I belonged here, had earned my place through years of proving myself worthy of the Alpha heir's attention.

"Miss Reed!" Lucas's secretary, a mousy woman named Patricia, looked up from her desk with genuine warmth. "Mr. Vance is in meetings all afternoon, but I'm sure he'd want to see you."

I smiled, the expression feeling foreign on my face. "Actually, I wanted to surprise him. Could I wait in his office? I have some wedding planning materials to review."

Patricia's face lit up with romantic delight. "Of course! He'll be so pleased."

Lucas's corner office commanded a view of the entire city, floor-to-ceiling windows showcasing his domain. I placed the final camera behind his diploma collection, angled perfectly to capture his desk and the leather couch where I suspected many of his 'private meetings' occurred.

As I adjusted the device, my phone buzzed with a text from Selina: *Coffee later? Need to discuss your bachelorette party plans! 💕*

The heart emoji made my stomach churn. I typed back: *Absolutely! Can't wait to hear your ideas.*

Let her plan. Let her believe she was orchestrating my downfall while I documented every moment of her treachery.

That evening, the Whitmore Foundation's charity gala glittered with the city's elite. Crystal chandeliers cast dancing shadows across marble floors as werewolf society's most powerful figures mingled beneath oil paintings worth more than most people's homes.

I entered alone, having told Lucas I'd meet him there after a last-minute dress fitting. The emerald silk gown I'd chosen clung to my curves like liquid fire, its deep neckline drawing appreciative glances from several Alphas.

"Evelyn Reed," a familiar voice said behind me. "You look absolutely radiant."

I turned to find Damian Blackwood approaching, his dark suit tailored to perfection. In my previous life, I'd barely noticed him—just another powerful Alpha in Lucas's orbit. But now, with death's clarity sharpening my perception, I saw him differently. The way he moved with predatory grace. The intelligence flickering in his storm-gray eyes. The barely contained power that made lesser wolves step aside without conscious thought.

"Alpha Blackwood," I replied, offering my hand. "How lovely to see you."

His fingers lingered on mine a moment longer than propriety dictated. "Please, call me Damian. We're practically family, after all."

Family. The word twisted in my chest, but I maintained my composure. "Of course. Though I must admit, I'm surprised to see you here. Charity galas don't seem quite your style."

His laugh was low, rich. "Perceptive. I'm here on business, actually. The Shadowfen Pack has interests in several of tonight's featured projects."

"And here I thought you'd come to congratulate the happy couple."

Something shifted in his expression, too quick to interpret. "Congratulations are certainly in order. Though I have to wonder..."

"Wonder what?"

"Whether you're truly happy, Evelyn. You seem... different tonight."

Before I could respond, the orchestra began playing a waltz. Damian extended his hand with fluid grace.

"Dance with me?"

I glanced around the ballroom, noting the curious stares already turning our way. Lucas was across the room, deep in conversation with Council members, but I could feel his attention like a weight on my skin.

Perfect.

"I'd be delighted."

Damian's hand settled on my waist, pulling me into the rhythm of the music. He was an excellent dancer, leading me through the steps with confident precision. But it was the way he looked at me—really looked at me—that made my breath catch.

"You're creating quite a stir," he murmured as we turned.

"Am I?"

"Half the room is wondering why the future Luna is dancing with the Shadowfen Alpha instead of her betrothed."

I let my gaze drift to Lucas, who had indeed noticed our dance. His jaw was tight, his conversation clearly suffering from his divided attention.

"Perhaps they're wondering why my betrothed is too busy with politics to dance with his fiancée," I replied.

Damian spun me out and back into his arms, the movement bringing us closer than before. "Or perhaps they're wondering if there's more to Evelyn Reed than meets the eye."

Our eyes locked, and for a moment, the ballroom faded around us. There was something in his gaze—recognition, maybe. As if he saw through the performance to the woman beneath.

"There always is," I whispered.

The music ended, but Damian's hands lingered on my waist. Around us, applause rippled through the crowd, but I barely heard it over the thundering of my own heartbeat.

"Thank you for the dance," I said, stepping back with visible reluctance.

"The pleasure was entirely mine." His voice carried an undertone that made several nearby wolves glance our way with raised eyebrows.

As I walked away, I could feel the weight of a dozen conversations shifting in my direction. The seeds were planted. By tomorrow, every gossip blog in the city would be speculating about the mysterious chemistry between Evelyn Reed and Damian Blackwood.

Let them wonder. Let Lucas wonder.

The game had begun.