Unwanted By The Alpha: His Hidden Genius Mate

Andrea POV:

I walked up the sweeping staircase to the master bedroom.

I stayed awake all night until dawn. My eyes were dry and raw, but my mind was strangely, unnervingly calm.

The king-sized bed beside me was empty, the sheets without a single crease.

Braxton hadn't come back to the master bedroom last night. He hadn't even climbed the stairs. And I had still been fool enough to hope he would come up. That he would explain. I had even almost rehearsed the words to forgive him.

A bitter, self-mocking smile crossed my lips. I rose to my feet, my movements stiff, and walked into the vast walk-in closet.

I pulled out a large suitcase. I began to pack, methodically, the sounds of my movements echoing in the silence.

I took only what belonged to me. The simple shirts, the practical trousers, the worn paperback books. The things that belonged to Andrea Ayers.

All the designer gowns, the expensive shoes, the jewelry gifted for public appearances—the things that belonged to Mrs. Nixon—I left untouched. They hung in neat, silent rows, like a museum exhibit of a life that had never truly been mine.

In the small study adjoining our bedroom, my eyes fell on the bookshelf.

There was a single silver frame. Our only photo together. It was from a pack ceremony years ago. I was smiling, a soft, hopeful curve of my lips. Braxton stood beside me, his expression distant, his eyes looking somewhere past the camera.

I slid the photo out of the frame.

Without a moment's hesitation, I fed it into the shredder on the corner of the desk. The machine whirred to life, devouring the glossy paper, turning our one shared memory into thin, meaningless strips.

Just then, the door to Bonnie's room creaked open.

She padded out, rubbing her sleepy eyes. She saw me, then the suitcase. There was no surprise on her face. No sadness.

Just a flicker of annoyance.

"Mom, you're being loud," she complained, her voice thick with sleep. "You woke me up."

A familiar ache tightened in my chest. I pushed it down.

My face remained a calm, neutral mask.

"Sorry, sweetie," I said. "Go back to sleep."

She didn't need a second invitation. She turned and ran down the stairs, her little voice calling out, "Daddy! Daddy!"

I heard Braxton's low, gentle murmur from downstairs, soothing her. I heard the sound of a cartoon starting on the television.

I closed my suitcase. The final click of the latches echoed in the quiet room.

As I walked past Bonnie's room, her door was slightly ajar. I heard her voice, bright and animated.

She was on a video call with her best friend, Maya.

"Danika is way cooler than my mom," Bonnie was saying, her voice full of childish pride. "She's teaching me to race go-karts! I wish she could live with us forever."

I stood frozen in the hallway, listening.

The last, lingering thread of doubt inside me snapped.

I pulled the suitcase handle up and walked down the stairs.

Braxton, Bonnie, and Danika were at the breakfast table. A cozy, domestic scene. Danika was pouring syrup on a stack of pancakes for Bonnie. Braxton was reading the financial news on his tablet, a small smile on his face.

They all looked up as I approached. Their eyes went from me to the suitcase.

Braxton spoke first, his tone casual, unconcerned.

"You have a business trip?" he asked. He didn't ask where I had been last night.

I nodded, my voice even. "Yes. I'll be in Europe for a while."

It was a lie, but it was an easy one.

A flash of delight crossed Bonnie's face. It meant I wouldn't be around to interfere with her fun with Danika.

Only Danika's eyes narrowed slightly. She looked at me, a flicker of suspicion in her gaze. But she was smart. She said nothing.

I didn't wait for more questions. I pulled my suitcase toward the front door.

As I passed the dining room, I heard Bonnie's small voice, full of excitement.

"Daddy, can we go to that new Italian place for lunch? The one with the wood-fired pizza? Danika really wants to try it."

Braxton's reply was immediate, warm. "Of course, princess. Whatever you want."

My steps faltered for a fraction of a second.

I had booked a table at that exact restaurant a week ago.

It was supposed to be my birthday surprise for them. For my family.

I pursed my lips, my jaw tight.

I didn't look back. I pulled open the heavy front door and stepped out into the morning sun, letting the door click shut behind me.

Later that day, after setting up a new bank account and meeting with my lawyer, I was driving through the city center.

On an impulse I couldn't explain, I pulled over across the street from the Italian restaurant.

Braxton's sedan was parked right out front.

I didn't have to wait long.

The restaurant doors opened, and they emerged. Braxton, Danika, and Bonnie. They were all laughing, their faces glowing with happiness.

Braxton held the car door open for Danika, a gesture of casual chivalry he had never extended to me. Bonnie clung to Danika's arm, chattering excitedly.

They looked perfect.

A happy, beautiful family of three.

I watched them until their car disappeared into traffic.

Then, I put my own car in drive and pulled away from the curb, merging seamlessly into the flow of cars.

My face was set, my eyes fixed on the road ahead.

There was nothing left for me here.