My heart shattered into a million pieces, the pain so palpable it felt like a physical weight on my chest. With trembling hands, I glanced at the divorce papers spread out before me, unable to believe what my eyes were seeing. Gripping the pen tightly, I mustered the strength to look up at Damon, meeting his cold, expressionless gaze. There was an air of impatience about him, as if he had been eagerly awaiting this moment of liberation.
The sickly sweet scent of passionfruit wafted through the air, mingling with the bitter taste of despair in my mouth.
My voice remained steady but deadly as I spoke to Damon. "So, you really want a divorce, Damon? You know, it might be that I will never marry you or associate with you again. Fine, then."
With a heavy sigh, I picked up the pen and reluctantly signed the papers, the same pen I had used during our previous divorce. It was a bitter reminder of the past, fueling my anger.
A surge of rage coursed through me, and I couldn't help but lash out. "The only good thing about this is that if I choose to, I can unleash my rage on the world without consequences. I can have anyone I want. "
I knew it was a low blow, but I was seething with fury. Damon took hold of the papers, his other hand wrapped possessively around his newfound love, Petra. Her fiery red hair seemed to intensify the unpleasantness of the situation.
Locking eyes with Petra, I made my ultimate declaration. "He's all yours, Petra—every part of him. You can keep him. But remember, we had a prenup so that you won't be getting any money out of me. We didn't accumulate many assets together, so this won't be a payday for you."
Petra nestled comfortably in Damon's arms, her voice dripping with venom. "Don't be a bitter bitch. I'll get my lawyers, and they'll make sure you pay up. You can't keep my Damon without giving him his share."
I saw Damon's eyes flashing angrily; did he not tell Petra about Damien?
I didn't dignify her words with a response. Instead, I turned and walked away, my anger radiating from every pore. The tension in the room escalated as Bran intervened, his voice raised in fury. Adam joined in, matching Bran's intensity. Damon attempted to speak, but Bran forcefully separated him from the pack before anything could be said. The bond between our souls had already been wounded, leaving a gaping hole in my very being.
My rage became a comforting fire, burning away the toxicity that had clouded my mind. I no longer had to endure this pain. This wasn't how things were supposed to go, I bitterly thought, as Damon and Petra departed to complete their wedding plans.
Seeking solace, I retreated to the bedroom. The anger still simmered within me as I dialed Jarod's number, needing to unleash my frustrations on someone who would listen. Jarod was astounded when I revealed Damon had just filed for divorce, eager to hear the entire story and the reactions of everyone involved.
I said, my voice trembling, "Me, I'm furious right now. At this moment, my rage is like a wildfire, consuming everything in its path. How the pack reacted then: Bran, surprisingly enough, was seething with anger towards Damon. He wouldn't allow him to step foot in any of the pack houses, and he was ultimately banished from the pack. "
I sighed as I reeled everything in my mind. "The entire ordeal began when we embarked on a demanding world rescue mission for over a year. After that, when I felt alright, I seduced Damon, and we had a blissful month together. But Bran needed Damon. We were both busy with our gigs; I had a PR gig at the zoo, while Damon had a scouting job. Damon was not impressed as it came out that this old girlfriend of his had become their point of contact. It's ironic, really. I thought we had a strong connection now."
My voice is quiet, calm, deadly like air just before the storm.
"I had been working at the zoo for a couple of weeks, and it was a peaceful place except for the zebras and other prey animals. That would be because I would become more restless during the full moon. But we handled everything. Damon had been sending me messages almost every day, keeping our connection alive. Then, by accident, I saw them at the zoo. I spent the whole day spying on them, listening to their conversation and watching their every move."
I felt the same pain again as I went through that memory. Jarod's grunts told me to carry on with my story.
"There they were, Petra sitting on a cold marble bench and Damon kneeling before her, holding a jewelry box in his hands. I overheard Damon mentioning that his marriage to me had lost its significance over the years. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I immediately texted Damon, demanding that he bring the divorce papers tonight because our marriage had become diluted. And he actually came. I don't know why, but I had confided in Bran about the situation, and he was furious. He shouted at Damon, berated him, and denied his proposal to Petra and any involvement with the pack or their wedding venue. I couldn't comprehend Bran's reaction."
Jarod paused for a moment, his voice filled with a mix of awe and caution. "Quite a story, but Bran is protecting you. It's obvious that you have a strong bond now, and perhaps the forest responds to your emotions. But be careful. Damon's actions are truly despicable. And if Damien has been hiding all this time, then who is he really? Is he just a darker side to Damon?"
I muttered under my breath; the words escaping through gritted teeth. The bitterness lingered in the air as I continued, "That's Petra's problem then; the bitch got in my eyes when I announced that the money wasn't coming in."
Jarod's voice cut through the tension, his tone filled with a mix of frustration and disbelief. "But then, Damon is rich, too. Isn't that enough for Petra?"
I could feel a knot forming in my stomach as I replied bitterly, my voice laced with resentment. "No, not apparently. But I'm not dropping a single penny."
As we talked, memories of the world rescue flooded my mind, each one bittersweet and tinged with regret. Searching for answers, I turned to Jarod, hoping for clarity. I tried to find blame for this of myself, that somehow this was all my fault.
His words were firm, offering a glimmer of solace amidst the chaos. "Don't even try that. It's not your fault, not your fault at all. Now you just learn to move on and see what's next, but first, react, react to this job somehow."
I nodded, a mix of determination and anger coursing through my veins.
"Fine, I'll see what I do. My reaction is usually not a nice one," I admitted.
Jarod's response was swift and understanding. "It's not supposed to be; it's a reaction. It's not a planned thing."
The weight of the situation hung heavy in the air, the tension palpable as we braced ourselves for what was to come.
Fine, I am single again, uncertain of my next move. But for now, I focused on the buzzing fleas and explosive emotions. To begin, I reveled in my newfound freedom. After such a jolt, a surge of anger coursed through me, transforming me into a vindictive bitch.
So, I embraced it. I embarked on a singles cruise, a luxurious vessel that exuded elegance. Adorned in my finest attire, I ventured into the vibrant nightclub, scanning the crowd for potential companions. To my astonishment, there stood Rob.
He, too, had endured the pain of divorce, now single and intoxicated enough to reveal his secret desires—me. He confessed his envy towards Jake and Magnum for having experienced me in their fantasies.
Without hesitation, I seduced him, and my, was he forceful. At that moment, he became superhuman, his insatiable lust driving him. Dominance emanated from him, allowing me to relinquish control, surrendering to his powerful thrusts that consumed me. We engaged in three nights of unbridled passion before moving on to the next partner. As I made it clear, I sought only casual connections.
Each night, I sought one-night stands, indulging with various men. While most were human, a few dared to explore uncharted territories, pushing boundaries with their audacity and thoughtfulness.
When the cruise concluded, I intentionally texted Damon, revealing my exploits over the past three weeks. That's what you fucking get. Surprisingly, Adam approved of my reaction, harboring no resentment as he found solace in Isabella's arms.
When I stepped off the cruise ship, the bustling streets of Europe greeted me with a cacophony of foreign languages and the aroma of freshly baked bread wafting through the air. Determined to settle down, I purchased a charming house in Berlin and transformed it into my headquarters. I took my pack there, too. Together, we embarked on a mission to make it our own, venturing into a furniture store to select plush sofas, cozy beds, and vibrant rugs. Even Bran eagerly took part. The first few nights, we slept on an air mattress, and Adam and I had quite a wild time, so our air mattress moved quite long distances every time we fucked like rabbits.
Amidst the excitement, Damon bombarded me with messages for weeks, incessantly discussing money matters and the prenuptial agreement. He attempted to sway me by sharing links to a medical research center owned by Petra's uncle, claiming it was an opportunity for investment.
However, skepticism gripped me, and I vowed to have my loyal fleas investigate the center's true intentions. Damon's demands grew more audacious as he sought to determine our joint possessions, persistently questioning why he couldn't have certain things. In response, I echoed Damon's own teachings, reminding him of the consequences of his actions.
Sweet Petra pressured Damon quite a bit, so it seemed; he even tried to persuade me to annul the divorce, longing for a life with two wives. However, I stood firm and confirmed the divorce of the judge, rendering any possibility of an annulment null and void. Finally, the whining ceased, and we reveled in the pleasures of Berlin. Bran, now adept at forging new connections, ventured out of the house frequently, leaving me with ample time to enjoy the city.
Meanwhile, Samuel, my trusted pack doctor, busied himself to ensure the medbay on our bases was in order and to tend to the needs of his clinics. Having ended his relationship with Isabella, Adam and I shared passionate and intense moments together. Occasionally, Adam attended flea gigs, and then we would switch roles.
We worked closely as a team, and Adam, fiercely protective, revoked Damon's rights to my medical care and access to my accounts, including banks and other assets. To prevent Damon from claiming his share, Adam even took over the New York hotel, placing it under the pack's ownership.
As our time in Berlin drew to a close, Bran and Samuel returned to America while Adam and I embarked on a new adventure in Monaco. I refused to be Petra's mere source of financial support, determined to establish my independence.
I would meticulously plan missions, offering help with any issues for an entire month before embarking on my own daring adventures. I was now going on missions, not to fight clubs.
Damon and Petra had exchanged vows at the grand Notre Dame, a magnificent ceremony that garnered widespread attention. The media had flocked to capture every momentous detail. Damon, already a renowned figure, had achieved celebrity status, and consequently, Petra found herself acquainted with influential individuals, thanks to the media coverage.
Though the newspapers arrived regularly at the Monaco house, I never read them, as Adam, who was keeping a watchful eye on me, promptly discarded them. The headlines proclaimed their love story as the most extraordinary of the decade, an epic tale of true love, which I occasionally glimpsed in a few magazines.
Despite Adam's reputation as a womanizer and a drinker from time to time, he remained my unwavering pillar of support and protection, just as he had been from the very beginning.
We were a devoted couple, with Adam displaying remarkable attentiveness towards my mental and physical well-being. Recognizing the anger that consumed me, Adam wisely suggested that I attend gigs alone to release some pent-up energy. My rage had become an omnipresent force, intensifying with each passing day.