Chapter 7
The divorce papers arrived along with a call from Nathan's lawyer.
"Your ex-husband wants this to be over quickly," Peterson said, his voice slick with professional courtesy. "He'll accept your terms on asset division if you agree to seal any communications that could harm his reputation."
I understood what he really meant: Don't give the prosecutors more ammunition.
"I have no interest in helping Nathan's defense," I replied coolly. "I just want what's mine and to be done with him."
The call ended, but doubt lingered. Why was Nathan suddenly so cooperative?
Two days later, Emma placed a folder on my desk in the chief creative officer's office.
"You need to see this."
Bank records. Wire transfers. Shell companies. The name Artemis Capital appeared repeatedly, with money flowing through Nathan's accounts like a hidden river. He wasn't the mastermind; he was the bridge.
"He was moving someone else's money," Emma said quietly. "Sophisticated laundering. This goes way beyond simple fraud."
I stared at the numbers, my heart tightening. "Submit everything to the FBI. But stop digging into Artemis Capital."
Emma frowned. "Victoria—"
"I mean it. This isn't a puzzle you want to solve."
That evening, Marcus was waiting for me at his apartment.
"My mother wants to see you again," he said.
"I thought we were done after the warehouse."
Marcus's expression darkened. "You've been asking questions. Now the Council is watching you."
"The Council?"
They're the enforcement arm of supernatural organized crime. Nathan was moving their money through legitimate channels. He was useful but expendable. They don't care about him. They care about you—the woman who brought him down."
Marcus stepped closer. "Elena was using you to weaken them. Now, they're deciding whether to recruit, control, or eliminate you."
I let out a bitter laugh. "And you? What's your role in all this?"
"I'm betting you're smart enough to survive the game." His amber eyes held mine. "But you'll need to stop playing human."
The divorce was finalized three weeks later. I received $2.3 million, the house, and complete freedom from the man who had tried to kill me for the insurance money. On paper, it was a clean win.
Two days after that, someone broke into my apartment.
Nothing was stolen. Nothing was damaged. Only a single sheet of paper was left on the kitchen table:
"You've made yourself interesting. Stop investigating. Stop working with the family. Or we'll make sure you can't do either."
The threat was unsigned but unmistakable.
I called Marcus immediately.
"They're testing you," he said. "Seeing if you'll run or fight."
"What should I do?"
Marcus was silent for a moment. "What do you want to do?"
The next morning, I walked into the FBI field office and asked for Special Agent Rebecca Torres.
She was in her forties, sharp-eyed, and coffee-stained—the kind of woman who'd seen every lie twice.
"Victoria Blake," she said, gesturing to a chair. "Divorce finalized, I hear. Why are you here?"
"Because Nathan wasn't working alone. He had serious financial backing—organized and sophisticated. I think it's bigger than anyone realized."
Torres leaned forward. "And why do you want to help us?"
"Because I need to know who used my husband to destroy my life," I said. "And because I want to make sure it doesn't come back for me."
She studied me for a long moment. "You're scared."
"Yes."
"But you're not hiding."
"No." I met her gaze. "I'm done being a pawn."
We shook hands. I handed over what I had on Artemis Capital and walked out, feeling both lighter and heavier at once.
That night, Marcus found me on my apartment balcony, staring at the glittering Manhattan skyline.
"You went to the FBI," he said flatly.
"I did."
"Without telling my mother."
"I'm not a chess piece anymore, Marcus. Not for Elena. Not for the Council. Not for you."
He stood beside me, the city lights catching the amber in his eyes. "This changes everything. Elena will see it as betrayal. The Council will see it as a declaration of war. You've just put yourself in the center of a battlefield you barely understand."
Marcus turned to face me fully, his voice low and urgent.
"If you want to survive what's coming, you need to accept who you are. Not half-wolf. Not pretending to be human. A real wolf. You'll have to shift. You'll have to fight. You'll have to lead."
I swallowed hard. "I never asked for any of this."
"Doesn't matter." He brushed a strand of hair from my face, his touch surprisingly gentle. "The war is already here. The only question left is whether you'll be a predator or prey."
As he leaned in and kissed me—deep, fierce, and full of warning—I felt something wild stir inside my chest. It was a power I could no longer deny.
In the distance, the city lights flickered once, like a warning.
Someone was watching.
