Free Web NovelChapter 9: Chapter 9 Facetime
Sylvia’s POV
I purged every last trace of Zane from my life.
The bedroom was a battlefield of discarded memories—cheap perfume bottles, novelty mugs from gas stations, and painfully generic jewelry boxes. Three years’ worth of performative affection dumped onto the floor like clearance bin leftovers.
My phone buzzed. I glanced at the screen—and blinked. A new bank notification.
$500,000. Deposited. Into my account.
From Caesar.
"Throw all that garbage away," Caesar said, his voice rolling in like distant thunder.
I looked up. He was standing in the doorway, hands in his pockets, gaze sweeping over the clutter like it offended him on a molecular level. That cool detachment in his eyes only made the heat crawling up my spine more confusing.
"Don’t worry," I said with a smirk, nudging a cracked snow globe with my foot. "Trash goes where it belongs."
I raised my hand, letting the diamond on my finger catch the light—brilliant, flawless, and undeniably real.
"Besides," I added, arching a brow at him, "I already have what I love most."
His eyes flicked to the ring, then to me. Something unreadable passed across his face, like approval wrapped in ownership.He didn’t smile exactly, but the corner of his mouth curved just enough to make my heart lurch.
Had he always looked this good when he was slightly smug?
I looked back at my phone screen, chewing my lip. "About the transfer... Caesar, I should return it. That’s a lot of money."
He stepped inside the room, slow and measured. The air was thick with the piney, resinous scent of crushed pine needles."Keep it," he said, voice lower now. "I’m not the type to demand repayment after a breakup. Consider it... spending money for my mate."
It wasn’t just for show—I genuinely adored this ring. And now that I was Luna Conrad, I couldn’t bear to disappoint Caesar. Not when he looked at me with those dark eyes that seemed to see everything I’d kept hidden for so long.
My cheeks burned, but I didn’t argue. Not this time.
Years ago, he’d slip me candy under the table while Morgana and I giggled our way through Bloodmoon dinners. He was her distant cousin, always seated at the far end of the room, brooding and silent until his eyes would meet mine—too serious for a teenage boy.
Back then, I was just Morgana’s friend. A guest. A girl with no territory and no name.
Now?
Now I was his mate.
And suddenly, that money wasn’t charity. It wasn’t guilt. It was claim.
"Thank you," I murmured, fingers curling around the phone like it might anchor me.
After packing up the old mementos, I was about to head for a shower when something caught my eye. The gold necklace—supposedly the most expensive gift Zane had ever given me—had a discolored spot on one side.
I frowned, rubbing my finger over the tarnished area, then let out a bitter laugh. Fake. The one supposedly valuable thing Zane had given me was a cheap counterfeit.
Later that night, I curled up in our massive bed, video chatting with Morgana about my discovery.
"Fake?" Morgana’s eyes went wide with disbelief. "Is Thorn Pack really that broke? Giving counterfeit jewelry to someone they thought was their Luna-to-be?"
"It was probably one of Zane’s friends who picked it out," I said, my tone deliberately casual, though the realization stung more than I wanted to admit. Zane had never cared enough to choose gifts himself. He’d delegated even that small responsibility to his pack mates. I’d been nothing but an afterthought to him. ƒгeewёbnovel.com
Morgana scoffed, clearly too outraged to form a proper response.
Just then, the bedroom door opened. Caesar stood in the doorway, wearing only thin sleep pants that hung low on his hips. His skin gleamed faintly in the warm lighting, his broad shoulders casting long shadows across the hallway. His dark eyes held a lazy, predatory gleam as he leaned against the doorframe, exuding that quiet, effortless dominance that always made my heart skip a beat.
"It’s late. Aren’t you coming to bed?" His voice was velvet over steel.
I froze, suddenly all too aware of how intimate the moment felt. I was curled up in his bed, my hair messy from lounging, my satin robe slipping off one shoulder. My laptop was angled toward him, which meant—
Morgana’s shriek came through the speakers like a cannon blast.
"Holy shit! Why is my cousin standing there half-naked like a Calvin Klein ad?!"
I flinched, scrambling to tilt the screen upward as if that would somehow make Caesar disappear. "Morgana, calm down! You’re on speaker!"
She leaned in closer to her webcam, squinting as if she were seeing things. "Wait—wait. Is that Caesar? With no shirt? Are those sweatpants? Jesus, Sylvia! Are you——"
I hung up the call before Morgana could finish, my finger jabbing at the screen like it had personally insulted me.
