Chapter 6 Divorce Agreement
1087 Words
At 8,10 PM at Le Ciel, Niklaus sat in a private room, checking his watch again. Freya was late.
Rebekah sat across from him, her brown hair falling over her shoulders. She sat with perfect posture and her designer dress fit perfectly. She sipped her champagne before sighing.
"Your Luna certainly likes to make an entrance," she said with a fake sweet voice. "Is she always this late?"
Niklaus felt annoyed. Freya was never late. She was always ready five minutes early.
"Traffic might be bad," he said shortly.
Flex growled in his mind. "She's speaking ill of our mate."
Niklaus told his wolf to calm down.
Rebekah pressed her painted lips together but quickly smiled brightly. "Well, while we wait, let me tell you about Paris! The ballet academy was incredible. The director said I have the best extension he's seen in years."
Niklaus nodded, barely listening as Rebekah talked about her European trips. His mind went back to three years ago. When he hadn't properly explained finding his fated mate, she ran off to Europe.
The guilt had bothered him ever since. He knew Rebekah really cared about him, and she had been groomed to be his Luna. Finding out he had a fated mate must have hurt her badly.
But he needed to be clear with Rebekah now. Three years had passed, and no matter how his arrangement with Freya started, she was his Luna now. Having Freya here for dinner would make that clear to Rebekah without any awkward talks.
His phone buzzed. Niklaus looked down at the screen and frowned. It was a credit card alert. Freya had just spent a huge amount at The Royal Crescent Hotel.
"What the hell?" he said, staring at the screen.
What was Freya doing there instead of coming to dinner?
His jaw tightened. The card was linked to his personal account. He'd given it to Freya. In three years, she barely used it.
"Is everything alright?" Rebekah asked, leaning forward with fake concern.
Before Niklaus could answer, a loud crash of breaking glass filled the restaurant. He looked up and saw a man in black clothes charging toward their table with a gun.
The attacker fired without hesitation.
Niklaus's instincts kicked in. He could have dodged the shot, but Rebekah was faster. She threw herself in front of him just as the gun fired. The silver bullet hit her in the lower back, and she collapsed, screaming in pain.
Chaos broke out in the restaurant. Security guards tackled the shooter, and Niklaus knelt beside Rebekah. Her face had gone white.
"Someone call an ambulance!" he shouted, pressing his hand on her wound to stop the bleeding.
Rebekah whimpered in pain. "Nik... it hurts so much."
His stomach dropped. Silver bullets were deadly to werewolves. Even a small hit could paralyze temporarily. A hit near the spine could be terrible.
"Hold on," he said, lifting her carefully. "I'm taking you to the hospital."
As he carried Rebekah to his car, a thought crossed his mind, if Freya had been here, she might have been hurt instead. With her smaller frame and weaker wolf, a silver bullet could have killed her instantly. Maybe her absence wasn't such a bad thing.
At the hospital, the emergency team rushed Rebekah into surgery immediately. Niklaus was left alone in the waiting room.
Four hours later, the surgeon came out of the operating room. Rebekah was being wheeled out, her face as pale as the sheets covering her body.
Niklaus walked quickly to the doctor. "How is she?"
The doctor looked at his chart. "The silver bullet grazed her spine but the damage could be severe. We need to watch her closely though."
Rebekah, now awake but groggy, looked up at the doctor. "Will this affect my dancing career?" Her voice shook slightly.
The doctor looked cautious. "We'll have to wait and see how you recover, but there's hope."
Tears filled Rebekah's eyes. She turned to Niklaus. "Thank you for staying with me. You should go home now, I'll be--"
"No," the doctor said firmly. "She needs someone to stay with her."
Rebekah started to object, but Niklaus cut her off. "I'll stay tonight. You need to rest."
After knowing each other for so many years, Rebekah knew his tone meant no arguing. Still, she looked uncertain. "I'm grateful, but should I call Freya to explain?"
Niklaus paused, his jaw tightening. "That's not necessary."
He spent the night in an uncomfortable hospital chair, watching Rebekah's vitals and thinking about the hotel charge. Every time he thought about calling Freya, something stopped him. Pride, maybe. Or the worry that she might not be alone at that hotel.
"She wouldn't do that to us," Flex growled. "She's our mate."
"But she doesn't love us," Niklaus said quietly.
By dawn, Niklaus was exhausted and irritable. He left the hospital only after the nurse said Rebekah was stable.
When he finally got home, his housekeeper Martha was already busy in the kitchen. She looked up in surprise.
"Alpha, you weren't home last night? Would you like some breakfast?"
"No," he replied shortly. His head was pounding from no sleep, and his mood was bad. He asked, "Where's Freya?"
"I think Luna Freya went to the office already. I haven't seen her since I got here," Martha replied. She didn't seem to know anything was wrong. Freya had given the staff the night off yesterday for their anniversary dinner.
Niklaus looked at his watch. It was almost 8 AM, and Freya was usually eating breakfast now. She hadn't come home last night. Was she still at that hotel? And with who?
His face darkened. Martha, still not noticing his mood, came over with a package.
"Alpha, this was delivered this morning. Someone sent you a package."
Niklaus took it without thinking, tearing open the envelope as Martha poured him coffee. The bold words "Divorce Agreement" at the top of the first page made his blood run cold.
He quickly scanned the document, his anger rising with each page. When he reached the asset division section, he let out a cold laugh. "How thorough."
Every property, car, bank account, and stock he owned were neatly divided in half.
"You've got quite the ambition, don't you?" he murmured.
Martha, who had seen the word "divorce," froze in place. She clearly wanted to disappear.
Niklaus grabbed his phone and dialed a number, divorce papers still in his hand.
After several rings, a sleepy female voice answered.
"What is it?"
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