My Alpha Used Our Wedding to Fund His Mistress

The vibration of my phone against the nightstand sounded like a jackhammer in the silence of the bedroom. It was past midnight, and the empty space on the mattress beside me was cold to the touch. Cyrus wasn’t home.

I snatched the phone, my heart already hammering a frantic rhythm against my ribs. It was Jasmine.

"Elena?" Her voice was a hushed, frantic whisper. "You need to get down to the Grand Hotel. Now."

My grip tightened on the device. "What? Why? Is it Cyrus?"

"It’s him," she hissed, the sound of static crackling in the background. "He just went into Room 304. Elena... he’s with Sarah. I saw room service bring up a bottle of champagne. I tried to stop them, but—"

The air left my lungs. Sarah. His new, twenty-two-year-old personal assistant. The one with the wide, innocent doe eyes and the legs that seemed to go on forever. I had told myself I was being paranoid. I had told myself that a Beta like me should be grateful an Alpha like Cyrus Hall even looked her way.

"I'm coming," I choked out.

"Hurry," Jasmine urged, her voice dripping with what sounded like terrified concern. "Before it’s too late to save this."

I didn’t remember the drive. I only remembered the red haze of jealousy that clouded my vision, turning the city lights of New York into blurred streaks of fire. I was the future Luna of the Black Moon Pack. I was supposed to be composed, regal, and strong. But right now, I felt like a cracked mirror, holding together by sheer will.

When I reached the third floor of the hotel, Jasmine was already there, pacing near the elevator. She looked impeccable as always, her dark hair cascading over her shoulders, her face pinched with worry. She grabbed my arm the moment I stepped out.

"Elena, breathe," she whispered, pulling me toward the door. "Just... prepare yourself."

I didn't want to prepare. I wanted to burn it down.

I didn't knock. I didn't wait. I simply shoved the door open. It wasn't locked—a detail that felt like a slap in the face.

Inside, the scene wasn't the orgy I had feared, but the intimacy of it was undeniable. Cyrus was sitting on the edge of the bed, his tie loosened, a glass of amber liquid in his hand. Sarah was standing too close to him, leaning over a spread of documents on the duvet. There was a silver bucket on the nightstand. Champagne.

They both jumped as I stormed in.

"Elena?" Cyrus stood up, his brow furrowing. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"What am I doing?" My voice rose to a shriek, stripping away all my Beta training. "What are *you* doing with her in a hotel room at one in the morning, Cyrus? Champagne? Really?"

"Ms. Nelson, please, we were just reviewing the merger schedule!" Sarah stammered, clutching a folder to her chest, her face draining of color.

"Don't lie to me!" I