Chapter 23
Calhoun’s POV~
Weeks had chewed Carmela down to bones and shadows. When I pushed open the basement door, the stench of damp concrete and her rotting perfume clung to the air. She was curled in the corner like a broken thing, trembling, eyes wide in the sudden light.
The moment she saw me, she scrambled forward on hands and knees, filthy nails clawing the floor, reaching for me like I was her salvation.
“Calhoun please… I’m sorry,” her voice cracked, ragged from thirst and sleepless nights. “I swear I’ll disappear. I’ll leave the Pack, you’ll never hear my name again. Just… just don’t leave me here. I can’t take it anymore p>
Her face was a ruin. Mascara smeared in black rivers down her cheeks, lips split and trembling, designer silk now nothing but rags.
Once, I had thought she was beautiful. Once, I had been fool enough to believe in that beauty. Now, kneeling there, she looked exactly like what she’d always been a parasite.
My jaw locked. I wanted to feel pity, but all I felt was fire gnawing my chest. This was the woman I had let close enough to nearly destroy Elodie. The woman I had trusted when I should have crushed her throat the moment I saw through her act.
My voice came out cold, and flat. “Pathetic p>
Her tears fell faster, body shaking with frantic sobs, but I didn’t move. I let her drown in her own desperation. Then I dropped the folder at her knees. It hit the concrete with a hollow slap.
She froze. Her trembling hands opened it, and as her eyes ran over the photographs, the color drained from her face.
Her past, the Pack in Europe she’d burned to ash behind her. The lovers she’d betrayed, the lies she’d spun, the Alpha she had sold her body out to. Every secret, every shame of hers, catalogued in full color.
“That’s… no—” her voice pitched high, wild. “That’s not me. These are fake. Someone’s trying to ruin me p>
She tore at the pages, clutching them to her chest like she could hide from the truth staring her down.
“It was Elodie, wasn’t it?” Her hysteria sharpened into venom. “That bitch couldn’t stand that you forgave me, so she made this up. She wants to turn you against me p>
“Elodie doesn’t have to turn me against you.” My words cut like glass. “You did that all on your own p>
Her sobs cracked into screaming, incoherent, as though shrieking could erase the evidence. “I was different in Europe! I was loved, I was wanted, this life wasn’t supposed to be mine p>
I stared at her, and for the first time, I understood the weight of my rage. It wasn’t just her betrayal. It was mine too, my blindness, my weakness. I had let her in. And because of that, Elodie had bled.
My hands curled into fists, claws itching beneath my skin. Every instinct in me screamed to finish her, to end this crawling, wretched creature begging at my feet. But a darker part of me whispered to let her rot. Let her taste the misery she fed others.
I leaned down, my shadow swallowing her whole. “You wanted power, Carmela. You wanted to play in the dark. Now you’ll choke on it. Alone. Forgotten. Nothing more than a ghost chained to her own sins p>
Her sobs filled the silence, into broken, ugly, and desperate sounds.
Her European escape had been her dream, once. She’d fed off men who mistook her beauty for worth, let them drape her in jewels and hide her sins with their money. But men tire of leeches. They always do. One by one, they vanished. The schools threw her out. The fake diploma she bought couldn’t fool anyone. No Pack wanted her. No Alpha would touch her name.
So she sold herself. Body for protection. Flesh for rent. Her reputation spread faster than wildfire through every Pack she slithered through, until there was nowhere left to run but back here. Back to me.
And I had been waiting.
She was on her knees now, her forehead pressed to the concrete, lips moving in a frenzy of apologies. “I’m sorry, Calhoun. I swear, I’ll vanish. You’ll never hear from me again. Just don’t… don’t leave me here. Please p>
Her voice was hoarse, broken. She trembled so violently I thought her bones might splinter beneath her skin.
I stood there, staring down at her. Once, I had bled for this woman. Once, I had thought she was my salvation. Now she was a pitiful carcass of greed and desperation.
And for a moment, watching her beg, I felt nothing. No pity. No love. Not even anger anymore. Just an ache in my chest where I used to keep my heart.
When her sobbing slowed, I finally spoke. My voice was ice.
“Get out p>
Her head snapped up, eyes wide, wet lashes sticking together. “W-what? What did you say p>
“You heard me.” I didn’t blink. “Get out, Carmela. We’re finished. Whatever this was, it died long ago. My heart belongs to someone else now. And it’s not you p>
Her mouth opened and closed, her face twisting in disbelief. She looked around the basement as if searching for guards, waiting for chains, for punishment. None came. The door was open. For the first time in weeks, freedom was hers.
And yet I saw the truth settle in her eyes, the outside world terrified her more than the dark she’d been rotting in. Out there, no one would care. Out there, she was nothing.
I turned without another word. My footsteps echoed off the walls, and with every step I took, the distance between us grew heavier. She whispered my name once, broken, like it could tether me back. I didn’t look over my shoulder.
The door slammed shut behind me.
Carmela disappeared from my Pack that night. Where she went, no one knew. And for once, no one cared.
I thought I would feel lighter. I thought letting her crawl out of my life would heal something. But as I stood in the silence of my office hours later, watching the city lights burn through the glass, I only felt emptier.
After two weeks of recovery, I took back hold of the company, trying so hard my company returned back to balance and I visibly saw the relief sketched on Mila’s face the moment I returned back to the company. Of course she had to be relieved. My own sister had her dreams and ambitions to chase. As well as me.