The Alpha's Unwanted True Mate's Secret

Chapter 7

Word Count: 641 | Released on: Today at 09:46

ra's

from his chest. It was the sound of an Alpha

ask a sing

shoving one of my bodyguar

a shrieked, run

of me, his eyes blazing with a murderous light

a word, Delma laun

dy into my legs with all her might. "You'

guard. I stumbled backward, my lower back crashing har

h me. A choked gasp escaped my lips,

self free and threw herself into Conrad

g her face in his chest. "She broke in... she

t against him. "Shh, it's okay," he murmured, his voice th

acket and draped it over her exposed

er once lo

g her back in agony, who had just

my side. "Ma'a

rn. My focus was on the tableau before me: Conrad, Jasmine, and De

attention to me. His eyes were not fille

ze," he

incredulous. "W

or your insane, barbaric behavior. Look at what you've done to her-she's s

ine!" Delma echoed, peeking

ng victim in their arms, and a laugh escaped me. It was a cold, quie

. "Should I apologize for finding my husband's secret love nes

You want me to a

y," she whispered meekly. "Don't be angry with

was the final straw. It solidifi

he said, his voice fl

sweeping Jasmine up into his arms as if she weighed nothin

d right

another jolt of pain through my injured b

woman in his arms, his fa

my existence, was not a blow. It was a liberation. It severed t

Chapter End

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“On our sixth wedding anniversary, I sat at a cold dining table, waiting with a luxury watch I had spent months sourcing for my husband. But a vehicle tracker led me to an upscale restaurant, where he was throwing a lavish party for his "sick" assistant, Jasmine. What shattered me wasn't just the family heirloom he fastened around her neck. It was seeing our six-year-old daughter happily cutting the cake for her, forming a perfect family portrait. When they returned home, my daughter angrily accused me of ruining their night. Then, my assistant handed me a file revealing a sickening truth: Jasmine was infertile. The wealthy Harris family only married me so I could be a womb to breed a pure-blood heir. Conrad even bought Jasmine a replica of our mansion and let her wear a copy of my custom wedding dress. When I confronted them and tore the stolen gown off her, my own daughter violently shoved me into a sharp wooden banister. "You're a bad woman! Stop hurting Aunt Jasmine!" she shrieked. Writhing in agony, I watched my husband wrap his jacket around his weeping mistress, completely ignoring my injured back. He carried her away, while my daughter casually kicked the scattered diamonds from my ruined dress like dirt. Years ago, I nearly died taking a fatal blow for him, yet he gave Jasmine the credit and treated me like disposable trash. As I watched them walk away, my heart finally turned to ash. I slowly stood up, pulled out my phone, and called the world's top oncologist to cancel Jasmine's life-saving surgery. If they wanted her to live, it would cost them exactly fifty percent of their family empire.”