AMY’S POV
I was yanked out of a deep, dreamless sleep by the shrill sound of my phone ringing.
I groaned, fumbling blindly on the nightstand until my fingers closed around the device.
I squinted at the screen, my vision blurry with sleep.
It was my friend, Teresa.
I rubbed my eyes and answered, my voice hoarse.
“Hello?”
“Amy! Oh my God, I’m so sorry I haven’t called.” Teresa’s voice rushed through the speaker, frantic and apologetic.
“I’ve been so swamped with orders that I forgot to reach out to you after the funeral.
I should have checked on you.
I know, I’m a terrible friend…”
“Teresa, calm down,” I said, sitting up in bed.
“It’s fine.
I understand.”
“It’s not fine,” she insisted.
“You lost your father, and I wasn’t there for you. I’m so sorry, Amy. I really am.”
I sighed, running a hand through my tangled hair.
“You’re here now. That’s what matters.”
She was quiet for a moment, then her voice brightened slightly.
“Anyway, I called because I need you to come in for the final fitting of your wedding dress. I’ve made all the adjustments we discussed, but I want to make sure everything fits perfectly before I do the final stitching.”
My stomach dropped.
The wedding dress.
The dress Teresa had been working on for months, pouring her heart and soul into every stitch.
The dress I was supposed to wear when I married Derek.
I didn’t tell her that the wedding was going to hold anymore.
“Teresa,” I said slowly.
“We need to talk.”
Her voice immediately turned wary.
“What about?
Is something wrong?
Amy, you’re scaring me.”
“I’ll explain everything when I get there.
I’ll be at your shop in an hour.”
I hung up before she could ask more questions.
I sat there for a long moment, staring at the phone in my hand, my heart pounding.
I climbed out of bed and rushed through my morning routine.
I showered quickly, dressed in one of the outfits Richard had bought for me, a simple but elegant cream-colored blouse and tailored trousers,and headed downstairs.
The moment I stepped into the foyer, the staff stopped what they were doing and bowed their heads.
“Good morning, Mrs. Wellington,” they chorused.
I froze, my face instantly turning red.
Mrs. Wellington.
I still wasn’t used to that.
It felt strange, wrong even.
But I forced a smile and nodded at them.
“Good morning.”
I spotted Madelien, the head housekeeper, approaching me with a warm smile.
She was a kind-faced she-wolf in her fifties, with silver-streaked hair and gentle eyes.
“Good morning, Mrs. Wellington,” she said.
“Did you sleep well?”
“I did, thank you,” I said, then hesitated.
“Madelien, where is Richard?.”
“The Alpha left early this morning, ma’am,” she informed me.
“He had some business to attend to. He said he’d be back before noon.”
I nodded, trying to hide my disappointment.
I’d wanted to see him, to maybe get a glimpse of those green eyes before I faced Teresa.
Please tell him if he comes back before I do.”
“Of course, ma’am.” Madelien smiled.
“But first, breakfast is ready. Let me escort you to the dining room.”
I opened my mouth to refuse, but my stomach chose that moment to growl loudly.
Madelien chuckled softly.
“Just a quick meal, ma’am. It would be a shame to let all that food go to waste.”
I relented, following her to the dining room.
The spread was ridiculous, fresh fruit, pastries, eggs, bacon, and a pot of coffee that smelled like heaven.
I ate quickly, not wanting to keep Teresa waiting any longer.
When I finished, I made my way to the front door.
But as I stepped outside, I found two drivers standing by a sleek black sedan, waiting.
“Mrs. Wellington,” one of them said, opening the back door.
“Alpha Richard instructed us to have a driver at your beck and call at all times. Please, allow us to take you wherever you need to go.”
I blinked, overwhelmed by the gesture.
“That’s…
really not necessary.
I can take a cab.”
“The Alpha would be most displeased if we allowed that, ma’am,” the driver said, his expression earnest.
“Please. It would be our honor.”
I sighed, knowing there was no point in arguing.
I climbed into the back seat and gave them Teresa’s shop address in Rainwood Pack.
The drive to Teresa’s shop was short.
I stepped out of the car and walked through the familiar door.
Teresa’s boutique was small but cozy, filled with bolts of fabric, mannequins draped in half-finished gowns, and the faint scent of lavender.
Teresa herself was hunched over a sewing machine, her dark hair tied up in a messy bun.
She looked up when I walked in, her face breaking into a wide smile.
“Amy! There you are!”
She rushed over and enveloped me in a tight hug.
I hugged her back, feeling a lump form in my throat.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered.
“I should have been there for you.
I’m such a terrible friend.”
“Stop apologizing,” I said, pulling back.
“You’re here now. That’s what matters.”
She nodded, wiping at her eyes.
Then she grabbed my hand and dragged me toward the back of the shop, where a beautiful white gown hung on a mannequin.
“Okay, forget all that sad stuff for a second,” she said, her voice brightening.
“Look at this dress! I’ve been working on it non-stop, and it’s absolutely stunning. You’re going to look incredible. Derek won’t be able to keep his eyes off you.”
I stared at the dress.
It was beautiful, there was no denying that.
The bodice was covered in intricate lace, the skirt flowing and ethereal.
It was the dress of my dreams.
But it was a dream that had died.
“Amy?” Teresa’s voice was hesitant.
“What’s wrong? You don’t look excited.”
I took a deep breath.
“Teresa, the engagement is off. I’m not marrying Derek.”
Her face went pale.
“What? What do you mean? What happened?”
I sat down heavily on a nearby chair.
“He cheated on me. I walked in on him with another woman hours after my dad’s funeral ended.”
Teresa’s mouth dropped open.
“He did WHAT?”
“He tried to apologize, tried to make stupid excuses.
But I couldn’t do it.
So I ended it.”
“Good,” Teresa said fiercely.
“That’s exactly what you should have done. That bastard doesn’t deserve you.”
I let out a bitter laugh.
“You haven’t heard the rest yet.”
She frowned.
“What rest?”
I took a deep breath and explained that has happened over the past two days.
Her mouth fell open.
She stared at me like I’d grown a second head.
“You’re…
you’re marrying Richard Wellington?
The richest Alpha in New York?
Derek’s uncle who is 40 years old.”
“He’s 38,” I corrected as if it would make it better.
“Oh my God.” Teresa sank into the chair beside me.
“Amy, that’s insane. That’s completely insane. How did this even happen?”
I shook my head.
“I don’t even know anymore.
Everything happened so fast.
One minute I was catching Derek cheating, the next I was signing a marriage contract with his uncle.”
“And your mom?
Does she know?”
“She knows about the marriage but she isn’t aware there’s a contract involved,” I answered truthfully.
“She’s not happy about it. But I know she will come around. I can’t tell her about the contract because she will flip.”
Teresa was quiet for a long moment.
Then she let out a slow whistle.
“Amy Hart,” she said, shaking her head.
“You’re marrying the most powerful Alpha in the city to get revenge on your ex.
That’s either the smartest or the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“Probably both,” I admitted.
Teresa studied me.
“Are you okay? Like, really okay?”
I thought about it.
I weighed the benefits of being Richard’s wife and the consequences, I concluded that the benefits were higher.
“I’m getting there,” I said finally.
Teresa nodded slowly.
“Well, a wedding is still happening, right? So the dress isn’t a waste.”
I laughed, the first genuine laugh I’d let out in days.
“No, I suppose it’s not.”
“Then let’s do this fitting,” she said, standing up.
“And then you can tell me everything about the mysterious Alpha Richard Wellington. And I mean everything.”
I spent the next hour doing the fitting, marking areas that needed adjustment, trying to ignore the strange mix of guilt and excitement swirling in my chest.
As I was pulling off the dress, my phone rang.
I glanced at the screen, it was the hospital.
“Hello?”
“Miss Hart? This is Nurse Patricia. Your mother is asking to see you.”
My heart leaped.
“Is she okay?
Is something wrong?”
“She’s doing well,” the nurse assured me.
“She just wants to see you.”
I swallowed hard.
“Tell her I’m on my way.”
I hung up and turned to Teresa.
“I have to go. My mom wants to see me.”
Teresa nodded and quickly helped me out of the dress.
I dressed up in my usual clothes and rushed out of the shop.
I climbed into the waiting car.
“Take me to the hospital,” I told the driver.