Chapter 2:The Boardroom Contract
923 Words
Three years changes a woman.
Three years turns a crying bride into a CEO.
Three years turns humiliation into armor.
Three years turns “barren” into twins kicking against my ribs.
I stepped into Blackwood Tower at 8:03am. Not 8:00. Not late.
Power moves are all about timing.
The lobby went silent.
500 employees. Same number of wolves that watched me get divorced.
But this time, they weren’t laughing.
“Morning, Ms. Blackwood.” My secretary bowed slightly.
Ava Chen. 26. Loyal. Smart. The only person who knew about the twins.
She handed me coffee. Black. No sugar. Like my mood.
“Damien’s here?” I asked.
She nodded once. “Penthouse boardroom. 9am. Northern Pack merger.”
My lips curved. Not a smile. A promise.
The merger Damien needed to save his pack after the war.
The merger only Blackwood Corp could fund.
The merger I’d been planning for 3 years.
Revenge is a dish best served with interest.
---
9:00am. Penthouse. Glass walls. City of Benin spread below us.
Damien walked in at 9:01am.
Alpha King Damien. Still 6’4. Still broad shoulders. Still silver eyes that once burned me.
But his suit didn’t fit the same. War took weight off him.
Scars peeked from his collar. The Northern Pack was bleeding money. Bleeding wolves.
He didn’t see me at first. I sat at the head of the table. My table now.
“Where’s Richard Blackwood?” Damien’s voice was rough. Commanding.
The same voice that said “I divorce you” in front of 500 wolves.
I stood up slowly.
White dress became black power suit. Broken crown became CEO title.
But the eyes? Still Aria.
“Richard Blackwood retired,” I said. “I’m Aria Blackwood. CEO. 51% owner.”
Damien froze.
His silver eyes hit my face. Then dropped. To my stomach.
Loose blazer. Strategic cut. You couldn’t see it unless you knew.
But Alphas notice everything. Especially scents.
His jaw ticked. Once. Twice.
For 1 second, regret flashed again. Like that day in the church.
Then the mask slammed on. “You’re too late, Aria. I have other investors.”
“Do you?” I slid a folder across the table. “Northern Pack owes 2.3 billion naira in war debts. 3 banks already said no. Humans don’t fund wolf wars.”
I sat down. Crossed my legs. Let the silence stretch.
Three years of business school taught me: whoever talks first, loses.
Damien picked up the folder. Flipped pages. His scent changed.
Stress. Anger. And something else. Something he tried to hide.
Desperation.
“Name your terms,” he said finally. Voice low.
“50% of Northern Pack territory,” I said. “And board seat for me.”
His fist hit the table. “Never. That land is sacred.”
I smiled. The cold one. The Ice Queen one.
“You called me barren, Damien. You threw me away for a ‘fertile’ omega.
Now your pack is dying because you chose wrong.”
The word ‘barren’ hung between us. Like a blade.
His silver eyes flashed gold. Alpha rage.
For a second I thought he’d shift. Break the table. Break me.
Instead, he leaned forward. Hands flat on my table.
“Why are you doing this? You hate me.”
“Hate?” I laughed once. Soft. “No, Damien.
Hate is what you felt when you divorced me in front of the world.
This is business.”
I stood up. Walked to the window. Back to him.
Let him look at my silhouette. Let him wonder.
Outside, rain started falling on Benin City.
Just like 3 years ago. When I walked out of that church alone.
“Sign the contract,” I said. “Or your pack falls by winter.”
Silence. Heavy. The kind that breaks bones.
Then footsteps behind me. Close. Too close.
His scent flooded my senses. Pine. Snow. Alpha King.
“You changed,” he whispered in my ear.
Not a command. A realization.
I turned. Slow. Face to face. Nose to nose.
Three years. Three years since he last stood this close.
“You made me,” I whispered back.
His eyes dropped. To my stomach again.
This time, one of the twins kicked. Hard.
My breath caught. Just for a second.
Damien saw it.
His eyes widened. Gold flared. Alpha instinct.
He reached for me. Hand hovering over my stomach.
Not touching. But close enough I could feel his heat.
“Are you—”
The boardroom doors burst open.
“Alpha King!” One of his warriors ran in, panting.
“Om— Omega Clara is here. She says... she says the pregnancy is in danger.”
Damien’s hand dropped from me like I burned him.
Guilt. Relief. Fear. All in 2 seconds.
He turned away from me. Back to his Alpha King mask.
“Keep the contract,” he said without looking at me. “My lawyer will review.”
Then he walked out. Fast. Chasing the omega who replaced me.
The door slammed.
I stood alone in my boardroom.
$2 billion company. Most feared CEO in the country.
And one hand pressed against twins he didn’t know were his.
Ava rushed in. “Ms. Blackwood, are you okay?”
I looked at the contract on the table. Unsigned.
Then I opened my purse. Pulled out the ultrasound photo.
Twins. 12 weeks. Damien’s silver eyes staring back at me from the screen.
I smiled. Cold.
Then I slide the ultrasound back into my blazer.
- Writer
