Bankrupting The Alpha: The Rejected Mate's Ultimate Payback

Bankrupting The Alpha: The Rejected Mate's Ultimate Payback

Jin Yi

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On the tarmac, the wind was cold, but my husband's rejection was freezing. "You aren't coming on the jet," Jackson said, adjusting the diamond cufflinks I had bought him. He pointed to the stairs where his mistress, Amber, stood wearing a silk dress I had commissioned for myself. "Amber is frail. She needs the comfort of the private cabin. I booked you a commercial flight. It leaves in three hours." He shoved an envelope into my hand. Economy. Middle seat. Two layovers. I stood there, the Luna of the pack, being told to fly cargo while a Rogue took my seat on the Gulfstream G650 'I' had paid for. My mother-in-law even chimed in, clutching the designer bag I bought her, claiming my "healer energy" was too stressful for their precious guest. Jackson blocked our telepathic bond, took his mistress's hand, and the door hissed shut in my face. He thought he was the Alpha. He thought he held the power because I had let him play the part for five years. But he forgot one tiny detail: his name wasn't on the trust fund. As the jet taxied away, I didn't cry. I pulled out my phone and dialed my personal banker. "Dr. Hogan?" "Cancel the flight plan," I said, my voice steady. "Revoke their clearance. Ground the jet at the first refueling stop. And cut the credit lines. All of them." "All of them, Ma'am? The pack accounts?" "Everything," I whispered, watching the plane lift off. "Let's see how the Alpha survives without my wallet."

Chapter 1

On the tarmac, the wind was cold, but my husband's rejection was freezing.

"You aren't coming on the jet," Jackson said, adjusting the diamond cufflinks I had bought him.

He pointed to the stairs where his mistress, Amber, stood wearing a silk dress I had commissioned for myself.

"Amber is frail. She needs the comfort of the private cabin. I booked you a commercial flight. It leaves in three hours."

He shoved an envelope into my hand. Economy. Middle seat. Two layovers.

I stood there, the Luna of the pack, being told to fly cargo while a Rogue took my seat on the Gulfstream G650 'I' had paid for.

My mother-in-law even chimed in, clutching the designer bag I bought her, claiming my "healer energy" was too stressful for their precious guest.

Jackson blocked our telepathic bond, took his mistress's hand, and the door hissed shut in my face.

He thought he was the Alpha. He thought he held the power because I had let him play the part for five years.

But he forgot one tiny detail: his name wasn't on the trust fund.

As the jet taxied away, I didn't cry. I pulled out my phone and dialed my personal banker.

"Dr. Hogan?"

"Cancel the flight plan," I said, my voice steady. "Revoke their clearance. Ground the jet at the first refueling stop. And cut the credit lines. All of them."

"All of them, Ma'am? The pack accounts?"

"Everything," I whispered, watching the plane lift off. "Let's see how the Alpha survives without my wallet."

Chapter 1

Hailey POV:

The wind on the tarmac cut through my coat, but 'it couldn't compete with the ice spreading through my veins.'

The engines of the Gulfstream G650 were already whining, a high-pitched scream that 'rattled my molars.'

It was a magnificent machine. It should be. I paid for it.

Just like I paid for the 'Italian wool' suits the warriors were wearing, the 'thousands of gallons of' fuel in the tank, and the invitation to the Alpha Summit that sat in my husband's pocket.

"Hailey, step back," Jackson said. His voice didn't hold the warmth of a mate. It held the dismissive tone one might use on a servant who had lingered too long.

I blinked, 'trying to process the absurdity.' "Excuse me? We need to board. The Summit opening ceremony starts in four hours."

Jackson didn't look at me. He was adjusting his cufflinks-gold, encrusted with diamonds. My anniversary gift to him.

"You aren't coming on the jet," he said flatly.

My heart skipped a beat. "What? Jackson, I'm the Luna. I'm the one who secured the Dorsey Pack's seat at the table. Why wouldn't I-"

"Amber is frail," he interrupted, finally meeting my eyes. His gaze was cold, devoid of the affection that used to be there five years ago. "She just returned from the wild. Her wolf is weak. She needs the comfort of the private cabin."

I looked past him. Standing at the top of the stairs, framed by the fuselage like a tragic heroine, was Amber Compton.

She was wearing a silk dress I had commissioned for myself. It hung loosely on her frame, emphasizing a fragility that seemed too curated.

She offered me a small, sad smile. It was the kind of smile a shark gives before it bites.

"But there are twelve seats," I argued, trying to keep my voice steady. "There is plenty of room."

"It's not about space, Hailey," my mother-in-law, Cornelia, chimed in. She was standing near the luggage cart, clutching a designer bag I had bought her last Christmas. "It's about atmosphere. Amber needs peace. Your energy... it's too intense. You're a Healer. You're always radiating that clinical, sterile power. It stresses her out."

I felt like I had been slapped. My power-the healing energy that had kept Cornelia's arthritis from crippling her, the power that kept the warriors from going feral during the full moon-was now "stressful."

Jackson pulled an envelope from his jacket pocket and shoved it toward me.

"I booked you a commercial flight. It leaves in three hours."

I took the envelope with trembling fingers. I looked at the ticket. Economy. Middle seat. Two layovers. It was practically a cargo flight.

"You want the Luna of the Dorsey Pack to fly economy while a Rogue takes my jet?" I asked, my voice dropping to a dangerous whisper.

"She is not a Rogue!" Jackson snarled. For a second, his eyes flashed gold-the sign of his Alpha wolf surfacing. "She is a guest of honor. And she is carrying... potential."

He glanced at Amber's stomach.

'Everything stopped.'

"Jackson," I reached out through the 'Mind-Link', our telepathic bond. 'Jackson, please tell me you aren't doing this. Tell me you aren't humiliating me in front of the pack.'

Silence.

He had blocked me.

The Alpha of the pack, my husband, had put up a mental wall against his own mate. It was the ultimate rejection without words.

"We have to go," Jackson said aloud, turning his back on me. "Don't be late to the hotel, Hailey. We need you to iron the ceremonial robes when you arrive."

He walked up the stairs. He took Amber's hand. He kissed her cheek, a tender gesture he hadn't shown me in years.

The pack warriors, men I had healed, men whose children I had delivered, looked away. They followed their Alpha. They followed the money. Or rather, they followed the man they thought controlled the money.

The door of the jet hissed shut. The stairs retracted.

I stood alone on the concrete. The smell of burning jet fuel filled my nose, but beneath it, I caught the lingering scent of Amber.

It wasn't just the scent of a weak wolf. Beneath the heavy layer of expensive perfume, there was the rot of a Rogue-someone who had lived without law, without honor.

The jet began to taxi. I watched the logo on the tail fin-the Dorsey Wolf. I had paid the painter to put it there.

Something inside me snapped. 'Not a break, but a release.'

My inner wolf, usually a calm, white presence, stood up and shook her fur. She didn't howl. She growled. A low, vibrating sound that resonated in my very bones.

I looked down at the economy ticket in my hand.

Then, I looked at the black Amex card in my wallet. The card that was linked to the master trust fund. The trust fund that financed the jet, the mansion, the cars, and the food in their bellies.

I took out my phone. The screen was cold against my cheek.

"Yes, Dr. Hogan?" my personal banker answered on the first ring.

"Cancel the flight plan for the Gulfstream," I said, my voice steady as a surgeon's hand.

"Ma'am? They are already taxiing."

"I know. Revoke the clearance. Ground them at their first refueling stop. And cut the credit lines. All of them."

"All of them, Dr. Hogan? The pack accounts?"

I watched the plane lift off into the gray sky. 'I thought about the document sitting in my safe deposit box-the one Jackson signed five years ago in desperation.

I hadn't wanted to use it. I hadn't wanted to be that person.'

'But he made me that person.'

"Everything," I said. "Game over."

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