. Alpha Dax’s POV The door slammed loudly, and I groaned. Her voice carried through the walls like nails dragging on stone. “He doesn’t care about me, Mrs Valiente! I can’t live like this!” I popped open another bottle of whiskey, propping my feet on my desk. My mother and Rose turned to me at once—one furious, the other trembling but triumphant. “Dax,” my mother said, her tone sharp, arms folded. “We need to talk.” I didn’t move. I poured a drink and glared, letting my presence fill the room. “Then talk.” Her glare deepened. “Rose came to me. Do you know what she told me? Do you know the humiliation you’re dragging our family into?” Rose’s lip quivered. “I tried, Dax. I tried to make this work. But you…” Her voice cracked as she looked at me, searching for sym

