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65. I'm A Fucking Idiot

Roman

The door clicks shut behind Aella, and I’m left standing in the suffocating silence of my office.

What the hell just happened? I ask myself this question, but deep down, I know. I saw it—the flash of terror in her eyes, the way she tensed up. How could I be so fucking stupid?

She saw Vasily when she looked at me.

My fist collides with the wall, a sharp pain radiating up my arm. But it’s a good pain, a welcome distraction from the emotional shitstorm swirling inside me.

“Dammit,” I curse under my breath.

I should’ve known better. I’ve been an Alpha since I was a pup, raised to read people, to read her. And still, I forget. I forget what she’s been through, the invisible scars Vasily left on her.

I flex my hand, testing the knuckles. They’re fine. I’m fine. Except I’m not. None of this is fine. I stand there, my fist aching from the punch, the dent in the wall a testament to my screw-up.

“Damn it all,” I mutter, pacing the room. This was supposed to be simple. All my years of
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