Sorry, Busy with Another Alpha

My mom was instantly overjoyed to hear this.

“Mia, you’ve finally seen the light?”

“I’ve been telling you! Your Aunt Diana’s son, Dylan, is handsome and accomplished, and you two were basically childhood friends. Diana just told me yesterday he was back. You two should set up a time to meet.”

I smiled and nodded, saying nothing more.

That afternoon, I bought a plane ticket to the Maldives to clear my head.

As I was boarding, Garrett Zane called me. I didn’t answer.

By the time I landed in the Maldives, the number of missed calls had grown to over 30.

I swiped them away without a second thought.

After a day of fun, I posted some beautiful photos of myself on Instagram that evening.

Garrett Zane was the first to lose his cool.

The call finally got through.

“Mia Weston, didn’t we agree to go to the Maldives together? For our honeymoon, for commemorative photos… why did you go by yourself?”

“And you haven’t been answering your phone or replying to my texts for the past two days. What’s your problem? Do you think you can just walk all over me?”

He laid into me without giving me a chance to speak.

I just felt annoyed. If I hadn’t accidentally tapped the screen, I never would have answered his call.

Sure enough, before I could say a word, he came to his own conclusion.

“Fine, you’re just angry that I left the ceremony the other day, right? It’s not the first time. What’s with all the drama?”

“Hurry up and come back when you’re done playing. It’s not safe for a woman to be alone in a foreign country. How will you manage without a man by your side?”

“Okay, okay, I have things to do. Message me when you get back. I’ll take you to buy some new jewelry, treat you to hot dogs.”

The line went dead.

If his dismissive words would have hurt me before, they now left me completely unfazed.

It was always the same old tricks to placate me after he made me angry.

Just like a wolf eating the same prey every day, you eventually get sick of it.

I was just about to block him.

When a video popped up.

It was from Lindsey Sykes.

In the video, Garrett Zane, egged on by a crowd, took a sip of alcohol and fed it to Lindsey Sykes, mouth to mouth.

Lindsey Sykes deliberately licked his lips, provocative as a little wildcat.

Her actions finally ignited Garrett Zane’s desire to conquer.

The next second, he grabbed the back of her head and bit down hard on her lip.

“Garrett, are you a puppy? You’re hurting me…”

Lindsey Sykes swatted his chest playfully.

The crowd around them hooted.

“Come on, what’s so interesting about this? These two have practically kissed their lips off. Let’s play something more exciting.”

“How about Truth or Dare?”

Lindsey Sykes jumped up first, pulling Garrett Zane with her, and asked the first question.

“Have you ever slept with your mate-to-be?”

Everyone perked up their ears, laughing and looking at Garrett Zane with schadenfreude.

He froze for a moment, then his gaze softened as it landed on Lindsey Sykes.

“Silly girl, why are you asking that?”

“You’ll be jealous no matter what I say.”

But Lindsey Sykes wouldn’t let it go.

“Well, have you or haven’t you? You’ve been with Mia Weston for almost ten years, it’s impossible that you haven’t, right?”

“I just want the truth. And when you have wet dreams, do you dream of me more, or Mia Weston?”

The cheering from the crowd grew louder.

Caught up in the moment and unwilling to back down, Garrett Zane finally conceded.

“It’s you, Lindsey Sykes.”

“Mia Weston has no figure and no sense of fun. How could she ever compare to someone as alluring as you?”

As he spoke, his hand moved suggestively toward the strap of Lindsey’s top.

The video cut off abruptly.

Immediately after, another message from Lindsey Sykes came through.

“Mia, so sorry, but I’ve requisitioned your mate for another night.”

“But I assume you’re generous enough not to mind, right? Seeing as you still stick to Garrett like a leech even after he’s ditched your ceremony so many times.”

I didn’t know what to feel seeing all this.

Ten years of sweet affection, all of it rotting away in an instant.

I stood up and sent a message to Dylan York.

“Send me a picture of your abs.”

Dylan York took a full minute to reply: “?”

“What do you want it for?”

Then he sent a voice message, his voice low and magnetic.

I immediately forwarded him the disgusting video Lindsey Sykes had sent me.

“What else? To help me get some revenge, of course.”