Chapter 3

Freya's POV

Tiffany looked like she'd seen a ghost. Her eyes kept darting around like she was planning an escape route. Guilty conscience much?

Just then, there was a knock at the door.

"Come in!" Tiffany called out.

A nervous-looking employee stepped inside, clutching a tablet. He glanced between us uncertainly before focusing on Tiffany.

"Ms. Austen asked me to verify the authorship of this design," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Are you sure she actually made this?" Tiffany stared hard at the employee, practically screaming 'say no' with her eyes.

The man shifted uncomfortably. "Well, I don't think so... I mean, the style seems different from her usual work..."

"Tell the truth." Alexander's voice cut through the room like a blade.

Damn. The guy had presence, I'd give him that.

The poor employee practically wilted under Alexander's stare. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed hard. "Actually, yes... it was definitely her work. I remember seeing her create it step by step."

Tiffany coughed loudly, shooting the man a warning look.

The employee paused, looking between them like a deer caught in headlights. "Or maybe... maybe it wasn't? I could be mistaken..."

"Maybe coordinate your lies better next time?" I said, crossing my arms.

Alexander looked annoyed. He dismissed the employee with a sharp wave, and the man practically ran from the room. Then Alexander turned that cold stare on me, and I felt the full weight of his Alpha presence.

"So you're Freya Austen," he said slowly, "the woman I was supposed to be engaged to all those years ago. Never thought our first meeting would be under these circumstances."

Tiffany went pale. Pathetic.

"I know all about your reputation," Alexander continued, his voice dropping to a dangerous level. "Actions have consequences, and from what I've heard, yours have been particularly... questionable."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I frowned, though I had a pretty good idea where this was going.

Who the hell did he think he was, judging me based on secondhand gossip?

"Hard to believe someone with your... history could create something so pure and elegant," he said, gesturing toward my design.

Tiffany jumped in immediately, fake concern dripping from her voice. "Alex, she was just young and reckless back then. You know how teenagers can be when they're looking for attention."

Damage control mode activated. I could practically see the gears turning in her head as she tried to salvage the situation.

I laughed, but there was no humor in it. So Tiffany had been busy spreading her version of events all these years. How convenient.

"Funny, I thought Alphas were supposed to be intelligent leaders who valued facts over gossip. Guess believing whatever story sounds juiciest is easier than actually investigating the truth."

The temperature in the room seemed to drop several degrees. Five years ago, I might have cowered under his intimidating presence. Not anymore. I'd learned to stand my ground the hard way.

I turned on Tiffany, letting all my pent-up anger show. "Drop the innocent act. Though maybe he's gullible enough to fall for your performance."

The look on Tiffany's face was priceless – a mixture of rage and panic that she was trying desperately to hide.

Alexander's frown deepened, and I caught a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. Maybe he was starting to realize he'd jumped to conclusions based on incomplete information.

Good. Let him see I wasn't the pathetic, broken mess Tiffany had obviously painted me as.

I could feel Alexander's control slipping again, his Alpha aura fluctuating with his emotions.

"You don't get to judge her," Alexander snapped, his protective instincts clearly kicking in. "You're not even officially part of this company yet."

Tiffany's smirk said it all – she thought she'd won this round. Her confidence restored, she decided to twist the knife a little deeper.

"Freya, what you did back then was so shameless it nearly cost Dad his position as Alpha. The whole pack was talking about it for months. And now you want to come back here and cause more trouble..."

That was it. The final straw.

I slapped her. Hard.

Bringing up our father was a mistake – a line she should never have crossed. Her lies had cost me everything: my family, my pack, my entire life. I'd spent five years rebuilding myself from nothing, and she had the audacity to throw it in my face.

Five years of struggling to survive in unfamiliar territory, of proving myself over and over again, of enduring whispers and judgment wherever I went. All because of her twisted version of events.

I wasn't that scared, desperate girl anymore. I'd learned to fight back.

The slap echoed through the office like a gunshot. Tiffany's cheek bloomed bright red, and she staggered backward, her hand flying to her face in shock.

That definitely got Alexander's attention.

His hand shot out and clamped around my wrist like a steel trap. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Apologize!" he demanded, his grip tightening.

Something about his scent made my head spin – clean, masculine, with an underlying wildness that seemed oddly familiar. It reminded me of something, some half-forgotten memory that danced just out of reach. No. That was impossible.

"I said apologize," he repeated when I didn't respond immediately.

I yanked my wrist free and rubbed the red marks his fingers had left on my skin. "Apologize? She's lucky I only slapped her once. She deserved a lot worse."

Tiffany's eyes filled with crocodile tears as she moved closer to Alexander, playing the victim card for all it was worth.

"It's okay, Alex," she sniffled, her voice trembling with manufactured emotion. "She's probably just here to cause trouble. You know, trying to get back what she thinks she deserves from the family business."

She turned to me with false sympathy. "Freya, I understand you're upset, but you can't just waltz back in here and disrespect Alex. This company has survived all these years thanks to his support and guidance. You owe him an apology."

"Keep talking and I'll give you a matching set," I warned, my patience completely exhausted.

Alexander moved between us, his imposing frame blocking my path to Tiffany. "Last warning. Apologize to her, now."

"She can apologize to me," I shot back, meeting his glare without flinching. "I might even be generous enough to accept it."

"You paid millions to bring me here from the eastern packs, confirmed my identity and credentials, and now you're treating me like some common troublemaker. Is this really how your company shows respect for the talent you supposedly value?"

"Maybe try getting all the facts before you pass judgment. Your Alpha instincts should be telling you something's seriously wrong with her story."

Tiffany looked ready to bolt, her carefully constructed facade finally starting to crack under pressure.

Her whole narrative would fall apart under real scrutiny.

Desperate now, Tiffany lunged at me with her claws extended, aiming for my face. I sidestepped easily, and she lost her balance, hitting the floor hard.

Still got those reflexes.

"Alex!" Tiffany sobbed dramatically from her undignified position on the carpet. "She attacked me! You saw it!"

"I barely moved," I said. "Maybe work on your balance."

Alexander looked between us, clearly trying to piece things together.

"I'm not apologizing for defending myself," I said. "And I'm definitely not apologizing to someone who's been lying about me for years."