The Billionaire Alpha’s Unwanted Mate

Chapter 3

Yuuki's mind reels as the implications sink in.

It seems… she has finally exhausted all of Nero's patience.

She looks up, her gaze unfocused as it wanders around the room. This space, supposedly her sanctuary, bears no trace of her personality. Every detail had been carefully curated to Nero's taste, a desperate attempt to create an environment he might find inviting. How many nights had she lain awake, hoping that if the room was comfortable enough, he might actually stay?

And yet, in all their years of marriage, Nero had never crossed the threshold. Until today, when he strode in solely to deliver divorce papers, barely sparing a glance for the decor she had agonized over.

A foggy memory surfaces through her daze. "Right," she murmurs, "I was cooking, wasn't I?"

Exhaustion weighs heavily on her as she slowly rises to her feet. A wave of dizziness washes over her, and she sways, steadying herself with a hand pressed against the bed.

The journey downstairs feels interminable. She's barely made it a few feet past the living room when a whirlwind of motion catches her peripheral vision. Before she can react, a resounding slap connects with her cheek. Pain explodes across her face, her head whipping to the side with enough force to send a jolt of pain down her neck.

"You little b***h!" a shrill voice pierces the air.

Yuuki turns her head slowly, numbly, to face her attacker. Nero's mother, Celine Valencia, stands before her, beautiful features contorted with rage.

"Since you can no longer stay here, you wish to burn it to the ground, is that it?" Celine snarls. "What else could you mean by leaving that thing in the oven until it's burnt to a crisp and started a fire?"

Yuuki's gaze drifts over Celine's shoulder towards the kitchen. A hazy thought forms in her mind:

Ah… so that’s what I forgot…

Her lack of reaction seems to further infuriate Celine. With long, purposeful strides, the older woman marches to the dining table where Yuuki's lovingly prepared spread still sits. Without hesitation, Celine sweeps her arm across the table, sending dishes crashing to the marble floor.

"How dare you use seafood in the food!" Celine rages. "My son is allergic to seafood and hates lamb the most. And you dare add seafood pasta and lamb barbecue to the menu? What kind of wife are you to not even know that?" Her voice drips with venom as she spits out, "Oh, I get it! Since he's divorcing you, you planned on poisoning him, then?"

When she had first married into the Valencia family, she had been made responsible for all the cooking in the house. It was a stressful job but she hadn’t minded. She had even seen it as an opportunity to make a favorable impression on his family and had jumped on the opportunity.

But looking back now, with bitter clarity, she understands. It was never about giving her a chance to contribute. It had been done as a way to humiliate her. It was about putting her in her place. Reminding her daily that she didn't belong in their world of wealth and privilege.

After all, what Billionaire’s wife does her own cooking? Which of them do not have a plethora of servants on their payroll to cater to every aspect of their lives? And what better way to humiliate the country bumpkin than to make her play servant in her own home?

But she had been so stupid and blinded by love that she hadn’t even noticed.

She had made sure to make a spread, all his favorites too. She had hoped that she would get a compliment, a smile… just… just even a nod of approval and she would have been over the moon.

She hadn’t been the best cook at the beginning but she has tried and tried, taking culinary class after culinary class until she had perfected every single dish that Nero and his family like to eat.

What about me? She thinks dazedly, what do I even like to eat? It seems she can’t remember.

Yuuki's gaze falls to the floor, where hours of her labor lie shattered among broken crockery and spilled sauces. Slowly, she lifts her eyes, looking past Celine to the figure standing quietly in the corner. Nero meets her gaze calmly, his eyes flickering briefly to her reddened cheek before returning to their usual impassive state. Without a word, he turns and walks away.

In that moment, the last tiny slivers of hope in Yuuki's heart disintegrate.

Her face settles into an expressionless mask as she turns back to Celine. "It's the last time," she says quietly, her voice eerily calm.

"What?" Celine's eyes narrow dangerously. "What did you say, you little-"

But her words die in her throat as she meets Yuuki's gaze. Something in those amber eyes, usually so warm and expressive and most of all, submissive, has changed. A chill runs down Celine's spine at what she sees there.

Without another word, Yuuki turns and begins to climb the stairs. As she ascends, a derisive laugh escapes her lips, absorbing into the walls.

After all, it’s a basic biological fact: Alphas have no allergies. And lamb barbecue... is Nero's favorite dish.

Yuuki walks back up to her bedroom, her steps measured and deliberate. Without hesitation, she goes straight to the bed, reaching for the pen in the bedside drawer. The divorce papers lie there, a stark reminder of her shattered dreams. She doesn't bother to read through them again, flipping straight to the last page.

For a moment, her hand hovers over the signature line. A fleeting hesitation, a final chance to cling to the life she's known for the past four years. But then she steels her heart, her face a mask of passivity as she signs her name. Though her expression remains neutral, the pain in her eyes is deep and heart-wrenching, a silent testament to the love she's letting go.

When she's done, she stares at the page for a long minute, as if memorizing the shape of her name next to his. Slowly, she slides the papers back into the envelope and sets it aside.

With a deep breath, Yuuki heads into the walk-in closet. She stares at the racks of expensive designer clothing, each piece a reminder of her attempts to fit into a world that never wanted her. The memory of Celine's words echo in her mind:

"We can't have you embarrassing our family by dressing in whatever low-lifes of your class like to wear."

All the clothes, in the latest season, all purchased by a stylist approved by Celine, and as such... none of them in her personal style. They were just another way to mold her, to erase who she was and replace her with their idea of a suitable Valencia wife.

Yuuki turns around, returning with trash bags. With methodical efficiency, she sweeps through the entire closet, filling bag after bag. There's no sentiment in her actions, just a grim determination to be done with it all.

She takes the bags two at a time, making her way downstairs and out through the front door. Nero and his mother are nowhere to be seen, a small mercy she can't help but be grateful for. However, it doesn't stop the stares and whispers from the servants.

"Look at her, throwing away all those designer clothes," one maid whispers, not bothering to keep her voice low.

"I bet she's going to try and sell them," another responds with a sneer. "As if anyone would believe she came by them honestly."

Yuuki's face remains steely as she ignores them. It's not the first time the servants have disrespected her. In fact, it's been going on since the beginning. The Valencia family had made it clear they did not approve of her, neither did they have any respect for her, so why would the servants treat her as a master?

Of course, she hadn't cared back then. Her naive, love-addled brain had taken it as just one of the hurdles to climb on her journey to obtaining her happily ever after. Now, the memory of her former optimism feels like a knife twisting in her gut.

It takes her several trips to the car, where she dumps the bags into the trunk, but she's able to take everything. All that's left is one suitcase.

After she's done, she collapses on the bed, eyes looking blankly at the ornate ceiling. This... will probably be the last time she sees this view. The thought should bring her sadness, but all she feels is a numb.

The next morning, Yuuki descends the stairs, holding a suitcase in her hand. The sound of her footsteps makes the people having breakfast in the dining room look up. Cassandra smirks and actually gets up, coming to the entrance of the dining room to watch Yuuki cross the living room towards the door. Celine just turns around and regards Yuuki with a look of disdain, her nose turned up in superiority.

Cassandra's voice, dripping with venom, breaks the tense silence. "Well, well, well. You've taken your sweet time. Finally, the trash is taking itself out!"

Yuuki, however, doesn't even bother to look their way as she makes her way out. Celine, who had been waiting for Yuuki to come to her and beg her to help stop the divorce, that way, she can crush her dreams with glee, flares up when Yuuki ignores her.

When had the wretched girl ever ignored her? When had she never fallen over herself trying to please her whenever she sees her? And now she actually has the audacity to ignore her?

"Stop right there!" Celine shrieks. "How can you have no manners? Is that how your low-class parents raised you?"

Yuuki halts in her steps for a moment before continuing. She pulls the door open, walks out, and lets it fall shut behind her. She stops for a moment, takes in a deep breath of the cool morning air, and walks down the ornate steps.

Suddenly, an expensive car with tinted windows pulls up and stops in front of her. She stops and waits expressionlessly. The rear backseat window slowly slides down, and the impassive face of Nero is exposed. He merely glances at her before looking back down at the documents in his hands, the brief glance showing the absolute cool indifference that he has always shown towards her.

"The papers?" he asks, his deep voice cool and detached.

"Signed," she says, just as impassively. But out of view, her hands tighten around the handle of the suitcase.

"Where are they?"

"With me."

"Pass it over," he still doesn't look at her. He even turns the page on his documents and frowns at the contents. Even when talking about divorce, she's not even worth him looking away from his work documents. It seems till the end, she was never even within his purview at all.

She takes a deep breath, "I will. But first, return my keepsake."

Finally, he looks up at her, briefly taken aback by her jeans and t-shirt, no makeup and hair down her shoulders look. But he doesn't take more than a second to take it in.

"Your what?" he asks, a hint of irritation creeping into his voice.

"My keepsake... I gave it to grandpa as my dowry before our wedding. Now that we're... getting divorced. I want it back."

He remembers that old thing, and disdain flits across his face. "It's in the ancestral hall. Which doesn't get opened casually. The next time it opens will be in 3 weeks," he states matter-of-factly. "Pass me the papers now and it will be sent to you later." He holds out his hand, expecting her to comply without question.

"No." She says firmly, surprising even herself with the steel in her voice. "I'll come and get them myself."

His eyes cool to ice and his face hardens. Yuuki then hears the driver scoff, "Prolonging the inevitable!" and she flinches, but keeps her face determined.

"Fine," he replies, his voice chilly. "You can come on the day of the full moon and get it. It's only a few weeks away anyway." The words are delivered with a sneer, as if he's disgusted by her. He probably also believes that she’s trying to buy time.

The window slides back up, obstructing his visage from view, and the car drives off down the winding driveway and out of sight.

Yuuki stares after the car until it disappears, her mind a whirlwind of emotions. She releases a shuddering breath, and bites her bottom lip hard. She blinks rapidly before turning on her heels and with rapid steps, walks towards the garage.

She opens the door of her car, throws the small suitcase into the backseat, and gets in. For a moment, she sits there, hands gripping the steering wheel tightly.

This is it.

The moment she starts the engine, she'll be leaving behind everything she's known for the past four years. All the pain, the humiliation, but also the desperate hope she's clung to for so long.

With a twist of her wrist, the engine roars to life. She puts the car in gear and slowly drives out of the garage. As she passes through the ornate gates of the Valencia mansion, she allows herself one last glance in the rearview mirror. Her eyes hardens and she looks away.