Free Web NovelChapter 11: Chapter 11 Cash Or Card?
Sylvia’s POV
"June 8th, 2025, caring for you during high fever, professional nursing services valued at six hundred dollars. November 23rd, urgent document deliveries for your pack, three round trips covering 12 kilometers, totaling three hundred dollars. From 2025 to 2027, providing cleaning services and nutritional meal preparation for your pack for three consecutive years, amounting to eighty-three thousand dollars..." ƒreeωebnovel.ƈom
My face remained perfectly composed as I recited each item, though my mind flashed through the absurdity of those three wasted years. freewebnøvel.coɱ
I had sacrificed my time and heart for a man who wasn’t worthy. I’d even learned to cook elaborate meals and prepare healing broths, delivering them without fail for three years straight. And now, here we were, settling accounts like business associates in front of an audience.
Zane initially listened calmly, but as I continued through the extensive list, his brow furrowed deeply, his expression darkening with each item.
When had I done so much for him? The realization seemed to dawn on him slowly, painfully. But true to form, he misinterpreted everything. I could practically see his thoughts—he believed I was listing my contributions to make him feel guilty, to somehow win him back.
My wolf growled at his arrogance.
"Enough!" Zane snapped, his voice ice-cold. "Sylvia, what’s the point of calculating all this? Wasn’t everything done willingly? The truth is you simply don’t want to return the gifts I gave you! We’ve broken up, yet you’re still trying to keep what’s mine. You truly are nothing but a gold-digger!"
"Yes, Ms. Sylvia," Chloe added, her voice dripping with false compassion, "you did all this voluntarily to win Zane’s favor. No one forced you."
"Voluntarily?" I savored the word with amusement, a bitter laugh escaping my lips. "If I recall correctly, Mr. Thorne’s gifts were also given voluntarily. I never once asked for them."
Those gifts had merely been Zane’s way of dismissing me, of keeping me satisfied with crumbs while he gave nothing of substance.
I had genuinely loved this man before me. But he was the one who had first asked me to be with him—I had never forced anything, never demanded his attention.
Zane’s patience had clearly run out, his disgust evident as he glared at me. "After all this talk, you just can’t bear to part with the gifts I gave you."
"Don’t worry," I replied smoothly, pulling out another list from my purse. "I have no desire to keep those things."
Zane’s brow furrowed in confusion.
I continued in the same measured tone: "March 2025, counterfeit luxury scarves bought in bulk, 99 cents each. April 5th, heart-shaped chocolate box, $3.99. Valentine’s Day, makeup collection set, $10..."
The restaurant erupted in murmurs and shocked whispers.
"A rich heir buying fakes? Wow, are all wealthy people this stingy?"
"I thought she was a gold-digger after his money, but turns out he’s the one gaslighting her! And he has the audacity to ask for these cheap gifts back?"
"No wonder she did everything ’voluntarily’—these gifts probably don’t even add up to a few hundred dollars. And she still kept them until now?"
As the whispers grew louder, Zane’s expression transformed into something ugly and furious.
He stood abruptly, pointing an accusing finger at me. "Enough! Sylvia, I never realized you were this manipulative! Not returning my gifts is one thing, but twisting the facts? The gifts my beta prepared for you couldn’t possibly be counterfeits! My family is wealthy—do I look like someone who would give fake merchandise?"
"Is that so?"
I dumped the pile of cheap items onto the table in front of him, my smile razor-sharp. "Then I suggest Alpha Thorne open those eyes of yours and take a good look at whether these gift cards bear your handwriting."
Zane had a habit when giving gifts.
He always included a handwritten note.
Out of misplaced affection, I had preserved every one.
Now, they served as perfect evidence.
Zane stared at his own handwriting, his expression morphing from angry red to ashen gray. I could sense his humiliation as he felt the weight of every judgmental stare in the restaurant.
Beside him, Chloe’s face registered both embarrassment and surprise—apparently, she hadn’t known this side of her precious mate.
My wolf was practically dancing with satisfaction as I lifted my gaze to meet Zane’s, my eyes filled with mockery.
"Since you’re so fond of keeping detailed accounts, Zane, here’s everything laid out clearly. My services and personal gifts to you total $113,523. Your gifts are all here—at depreciated value, I still owe you $23." I arched an eyebrow, my voice dripping with casual disdain. "That leaves you owing me $113,500, Alpha Thorne. Cash or card?"
Seeing more patrons gathering around their table, Zane finally spat out two words through clenched teeth: "I’ll transfer."
My wolf rumbled with satisfaction inside my chest as I maintained my composure. I pulled out my phone with steady hands and held it out for Zane to scan the payment code. The device pinged moments later, confirming the transfer of $113,500."Thank you, ex." I said softly, my voice carrying just enough to ensure everyone heard.
Not bad. Three years of my life had earned me a hundred and fifteen thousand dollars. The price of a lesson well-learned.
Caesar’s POV
I watched her from across the restaurant, my chest tight with pride and something far more possessive. My Sylvia. My mate. The way she stood her ground against that pathetic excuse for an Alpha made my wolf want to howl with satisfaction.
For three years, I had waited. Three years of watching her dim her light for that undeserving Stoneclaw Alpha who couldn’t recognize the treasure standing before him. Three years of restraint when every fiber of my being demanded I claim what was mine.
"Alpha Caesar, is that your girlfriend?" Smith asked, following my gaze across the restaurant.
"No," I replied simply, the corner of my mouth lifting slightly.
I switched to French, savoring the words as I spoke them: "She is my mate."
Smith’s blue eyes widened, but I had already shifted back to my business demeanor. The tenderness I reserved only for her carefully tucked away.
"Mr. Smith, the proposal I presented is my final offer. If you disagree, I’m afraid our partnership cannot continue."
The negotiations concluded quickly after that. I had more important matters to attend to.
