In the cutthroat business jungle of the city, Alexander reigns as a wild wolf—arrogant, untouchable, and feared by all. When Chloe first crosses his path, he casually shatters a champagne glass over a predatory producer’s head; when she offers a polite thank-you, he fixes her with dark, lazy eyes and murmurs, “You don’t recognize me?” Rumors ignite overnight: the invincible media tycoon is keeping an obscure, scandal-tainted actress at his side—a woman the public loves to hate for supposedly destroying a marriage. Netizens sneer at her “luck,” certain she’s nothing more than a cheap stand-in for his legendary lost love. Chloe doesn’t care. To her, it’s strictly business: take the money, count the days, and walk away clean. That is, until she stumbles into the locked art studio on his estate. Every wall is covered in hundreds of portraits—smiling, frowning, glowing—all of her, drawn when she was just a girl. Before she can process the shock, familiar, heavy footsteps echo behind her. Chloe turns—and slaps the powerful man across the face. Alexander doesn’t rage. He only lets out a low, dark chuckle, his gaze locking onto the obsession he’s never truly let go.

I was running a fever of 104 degrees, and my boyfriend had been called into work for overtime. But he forgot his wool scarf, so I dashed downstairs into the snow to catch him, only to hear him leaving a voicemail: "Overtime? Just a little white lie I told her. She won't be upset. "She's so clingy, like a puppy that won't let go. No sense of space at all. "Honestly, it's pretty dull. No thrill whatsoever..." I stood there, clinging to his wool scarf in shock. He only needed to turn around, and he would have seen me standing right there. But he didn’t.

For twelve years, my wolf spirit has been fading. The healers called it a curse. My Alpha husband Gideon called it an excuse. But the truth was worse: my sister Cassie had been siphoning my wolf spirit since childhood, stealing my strength for every medal, promotion, and proud look she received. When my wolf finally dies, Gideon is still choosing her. So I hide the last pieces of my soul in seven places he visits every day—his coffee cup, training ground, and bed. If he wants the truth, he’ll have to find me piece by piece.

For five years, I bled to build Alpha Kaelen’s empire, hiding my identity as the Lycan Crown Princess. But when I hacked the pack’s security feeds, I watched him kiss his healer mistress. He laughed at my battle scars, claiming I had sold my body to rivals to win his wars. I didn’t cry. I smiled, pulled out my phone, and called the Royal Court. It was time to take back everything I gave him. He wanted a 'pure' Luna? He's about to watch his kingdom crumble at my feet.