Chapter 49

"Madam Clara fainted yesterday," Luca reported. I paused, my pen hovering over the documents I was signing, and turned to him. "What?"

"The men I stationed to watch her said she stood in the rain for several minutes after you left," Luca replied. I clenched my fist. "They didn't think to provide her with an umbrella?" I asked. He sighed. The maids eventually covered her with one and took her inside. Before fainting, she'd asked them not to take her to the hospital, Luca revealed. I frowned.

"Why?" I asked. He stared at me for a moment before sighing. "She didn't want you to find out," he replied. I scoffed. So she was willing to risk her health to avoid seeing me?

"When she woke up, they tried convincing her to go to the hospital, but she—"

"That's enough. I don't want to hear anymore about her," I muttered, silencing him. He frowned. "Aren't you going to see how she's doing?" he asked. I tilted my head. "Why?"

"Because she's your wife," he replied. I scoffed. She made it pretty clear yesterday that she wanted nothing to do with me, and I was prepared to reciprocate.

I didn't reply, and after a few minutes, he took the hint and left. For the next few weeks, I immersed myself in work—for the company and the pack. I was grateful for the distraction; it kept me from thinking about Clara during the day. But at night, she was all I could think about. I couldn't even count the times I masturbated, consumed by memories of her smell, touch, kisses, and moans. I wasn't proud, but I couldn't help it.

I went to a bar with some colleagues to blow off steam, hoping to get Clara out of my head. But every woman who approached me disgusted me. I couldn't bear the thought of touching anyone but Clara, and it was killing me. I was a man; I needed intimacy, but the only woman my body craved didn't want me.

Soon, I stopped going to clubs and buried myself in work. I even traveled overseas for a business meeting. Despite promising not to contact Clara unless necessary, I lost count of how many times I almost called or texted her.

My parents and sister weren't making things easier. My father constantly pressured me to produce an heir and make Clara my Luna immediately. My mother just wanted me to bring Clara back, convinced I was a terrible husband. Since Delilah's return, she'd been relentlessly on my case, even packing her bags to stay with Clara after learning she was ill—and I hadn't visited. How do I explain that I wasn't at fault? It was hard for me, too.

My life was slowly reverting to what it was before Clara and I met, and I didn't understand why I hated it. I hadn't known what life was like without her before, but now that I did, I couldn't go back.

I sighed, setting my teacup on the table and turning from the view outside my room. I was on another business trip in Paris, with a clear view of the Eiffel Tower from my window. Even from here, I could see couples laughing and talking as they strolled. Paris was the city of love for a reason, and I couldn't help but wish… (I mentally slapped myself; I couldn't finish that thought.) I needed to stop thinking about her.

"Alpha, the meeting starts in 20 minutes. We need to leave," Luca's voice came from the other side of the door. I sighed and slowly rose from my chair. I put on my suit, grabbed my bag and phone, and left the room.

Luca immediately took everything from me, handing it to the guards before briefing me on my schedule. I mostly tuned him out. It was good to be busy, but I was tired and needed to rest.

"What about the Alpha Leader of the West? Are we meeting him today?" I asked. Luca nodded slowly. "Yes, sir. That's where we're headed now. We have a meeting with him first, then a meeting with the Alpha of this country. He wants to make a deal with you," Luca said. I nodded. A guard opened the car door for me, and I got in as Luca took the driver's seat.

"We're headed to the meeting location now, Alpha," he reported before starting the car. At that moment, my phone rang. I considered ignoring it until I saw the caller ID, and I froze. Clara? Clara was calling me? Why? I debated ignoring it to see if she'd call again, and the moment the ringing stopped, I regretted it. What if she didn't call back? What if…

The phone rang again, and this time, I answered immediately. I didn't speak, but I heard her soft breathing and other voices in the background. She must be at work.

"What do you…" I paused as my eyes widened. She was crying. Why was she crying?

"Clara? Are you okay?" I asked, unable to mask my concern. I saw Luca glance at me briefly in the rearview mirror, but I focused on the call.

"I… I don't know," she murmured, sniffling. I frowned. What happened? Was she harassed again? I—

"I miss you, Damon. I can't take it anymore. I miss you," she confessed. I froze, my heart pounding.

"What?" I asked, shocked. She sighed.

"This was a mistake. Forget I said anything. Goodbye, Damon…"

"Don't you dare end this call, and I mean it, Clara," I threatened. We were silent for a moment.

"What do you want, Clara?" I asked softly. I heard her take a deep breath. I urged, "Say it or I'll never know what you want," when I saw her hesitate. When she still didn't speak, I sighed. "Bye Cla—"

"I want you, Damon. I want you to come back to me," she revealed. A rush of emotions surged through me.

"Wait for me, I'm coming," I muttered before ending the call and turning to Luca. "Turn the car around and head to the airport. Tell them to prepare the jet immediately," I said. Luca sighed. "But sir, this meeting—"

"My wife is more important, and I need to get to her as soon as possible. She wants me," I murmured. Those words alone sent a thrill through me. Going back to my wife…

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