ELLA.
This place was suddenly beginning to feel like hell.
The walls, the people, everything around me pressed in too tightly, suffocating me in ways I couldn't explain. It wasn't just the unfamiliar environment or the constant tension that lingered in the air.
It was the identity.
I was living someone else's life.
Every word spoken to me, every look thrown my way, every expectation placed on my shoulders, it all belonged to her—Theresa, and not me. And yet, I was the one forced to carry it, to respond to it, to exist within it. To feel the pain she was supposed to be feeling.
It felt wrong.
I tightened my grip around my stomach, my fingers pressing gently but protectively as I pushed myself up to stand. My movements were slow, careful, my body still recovering, but instinct guided me more than strength did.
"I will protect you, my pup," I whispered softly to myself, my voice barely audible in the quiet room.
The words steadied me.
"With time… I will find a way to leave here," I added, my resolve firming, even if only slightly.
I had barely finished speaking when the door opened.
My body tensed instantly.
Lawrence stood at the entrance.
He paused for a brief second before clearing his throat, his expression composed but unreadable.
"So sorry to barge in, Theresa," he said, his tone controlled, almost formal. "But there's something I want us to talk about."
I swallowed hard.
A faint unease settled in my chest as I looked at him.
What exactly was it this time?
"Can I come in?" he asked.
The question caught me off guard.
I blinked at him, confused. Wasn't he already inside? He had just opened the door without knocking, yet now he was asking for permission as though it mattered.
Still… I nodded.
"Yeah, you can," I said quietly, gesturing toward the bed. "You can sit."
He stepped in fully and closed the door behind him before moving toward the bed. He sat down immediately.
Too close.
The proximity made my breath hitch slightly. I could feel the warmth radiating from him, the subtle presence of his scent, the quiet strength in the way he carried himself. It was unsettling… and something else I didn't want to name.
My heart began to beat faster and foolishly.
I didn't understand it.
I didn't want to understand it.
But whenever any of them stood this close to me, there was always that strange reaction, something I couldn't control, something that made me feel even more out of place in my own body.
"Theresa." His voice cut through my thoughts.
I blinked, startled, realizing I hadn't been paying attention.
"Are you listening to me?" he asked, his tone slightly firmer now.
"Oh—yes… sorry," I said quickly, my voice a little breathless. "Come again."
He studied me for a brief moment before speaking again.
"I said…" he began, pausing deliberately, as though weighing his words carefully, then he continued. "You have to legally divorce Alex."
My heart skipped.
What?
The word echoed loudly in my mind as shock washed over me. My brows furrowed slightly, confusion and disbelief mixing together.
How did they know about him?
I had never told them. Not once. I hadn't mentioned Alex, not even in passing. So how…
Did they investigate me?
Did they look into my past without asking?
A strange feeling settled in my chest but then… another thought followed—good, at least now, they should understand.
I wasn't Theresa.
"Thank you, Lawrence," I said finally, forcing the words out despite the tension tightening in my chest. "But I don't think you should meddle in my business."
The moment the word left my lips, I knew it struck something.
"Meddle?" he repeated sharply.
He stood up so suddenly it made me flinch, running a hand through his hair in clear frustration. His usual calm demeanor cracked, revealing something far more intense beneath the surface.
"It took me years to finally find you," he continued, his voice low but filled with restrained emotion, "and you're saying I shouldn't?"
My breath caught slightly.
Before I could react, he moved.
He closed the distance between us in a single step and leaned down to my level, his presence overwhelming, suffocating in a way I couldn't escape. His face was now only inches away from mine, his breath warm against my skin, sending an involuntary shiver down my spine.
"Theresa," he said, his voice quieter now, but heavier. "You can't shut me out of your life after all these years."
My heart pounded violently in my chest.
"Firstly, Alpha Lawrence…" I began, my voice unsteady but determined. I paused briefly, searching his eyes, trying to make him understand. "I'm not Theresa."
There was a flicker of something in his gaze, doubt, disbelief, or refusal, I couldn't tell. "And secondly…"
I didn't get to finish.
He closed the distance completely.
His lips crashed onto mine, cutting off my words entirely.
My body froze.
The suddenness of it stole the air from my lungs. His grip tightened slightly as he held me in place, his kiss firm, possessive, leaving no room for hesitation or thought. It wasn't gentle. It wasn't questioning, It was claiming.
My mind went blank for a second, shock rooting me in place before instinct kicked in. I pushed against him weakly, my hands pressing against his chest, trying to create space between us.
But he didn't move.
He was too strong.
My strength, already fragile, was nothing compared to his. The more I struggled, the more futile it felt, my resistance slowly faltering under the weight of his hold.
My breath grew uneven, my thoughts scattering as I felt myself giving in, not willingly, not knowingly but because I had no choice.
And just as suddenly as it began…the door burst open.
The loud crash echoed through the room, breaking the moment apart instantly.
A furious presence filled the space.