Our Wedding Was Ruined and I Found a Husband 46

Laila’s POV 

The morning of the meeting came way too fast. 

6 AM found me planted in front of my bathroom mirror. Just staring. Like I could somehow will myself into being someone else–someone braver, maybe. Someone whose hands didn’t shake. 

I’d done everything right. Hair styled within an inch of its life. Makeup that could’ve been featured in a YouTube tutorial. The kind of power suit that made men in boardrooms lean back and actually listen. 

Vanessa Harper looked incredible. Confident. Untouchable. 

But beneath all that carefully constructed armor? My hands betrayed me as I fumbled with my lipstick. 

Claire showed up at the office right on schedule. She’d agreed to play assistant for the day–moral support disguised as professional competency, while I left Jacob behind at the office to catch me up on paperwork. 

“You look amazing,” she offered. Her eyes told a different story, though. 

“Thanks.” I grabbed my briefcase. “Let’s just… let’s do this.” 

Every mile toward Moon Ridge territory stretched out impossibly long. Yet somehow we arrived too soon. Physics didn’t make sense anymore. Time had become this elastic thing that worked against me. 

Then the pack house materialized through the tree line. 

God. It looked exactly the same. Still massive. Still imposing. Still capable of stealing the breath right out of my lungs. 

“Ms. Harper?” Claire’s hand found my arm. Gentle. Grounding. “We could always bail. Tell them you caught something. Food poisoning, maybe.” 

“No.” I forced myself out of the car before I could reconsider. Spine straight. Chin up. “We’re not backing out now.” 

Vanessa wouldn’t run. Vanessa had never set foot here before. She had absolutely zero reason to be scared. 

The main entrance buzzed with morning activity–pack members doing their usual routines. A few shot me curious glances. Most barely registered the stranger in their midst. 

Perfect. Exactly what I needed. 

Marcus greeted us inside. “Ms. Harper, welcome. Alpha Bradshaw has the conference room ready.” 

“Appreciate it.” 

Walking those hallways felt like moving through a recurring nightmare. Same dark wood everywhere. Same photographs decorating every available surface–pack celebrations, formal ceremonies, family groupings spanning decades. 

I kept my eyes forward. Refused to scan those old pictures for my own face. That girl didn’t exist anymore. 

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Chapter 46 

+25 Bonus 

The conference room held exactly the crowd I’d expected. Pack elders, business associates, testosterone everywhere except for one unfamiliar woman across the table. 

Jason rose when I entered. 

“Ms. Harper. Thanks for making the trip.” 

“Wouldn’t miss it. I’m excited about this partnership.” 

Professional. Cool. Absolutely perfect. 

Contract negotiations proceeded exactly as they should. Pricing discussions. Distribution logistics. The usual corporate dance I’d performed dozens of times. 

I could navigate these conversations half–asleep. Had done it before, would do it again. 

But today? Every word mattered. Every gesture got carefully calculated. Nothing could slip. 

The weird part was how naturally I understood their dynamics. Elder Morrison wielded the real power–I knew that instinctively. Thomas Price would defer to his brother without question. Marcus, the Beta, would echo whatever Jason ultimately decided. 

Years of living here had taught me the hierarchy. The unspoken protocols nobody bothered explaining to outsiders. 

Apparently my brain had filed all that information away for safekeeping. 

“Ms. Harper raises a valid point,” Elder Morrison interjected at one stage. “We should probably adjust the schedule like she’s suggesting.” 

Jason’s eyes found mine. Those impossibly green eyes that still saw too much. 

“You understand pack operations remarkably well,” he observed. Casual tone. Loaded implication. “For someone outside our world.” 

My heart did something complicated. “Research is crucial. I make it a point to understand how my clients operate structurally.” 

“Impressive research.” 

Finally, when a lunch break arrived, I practically launched myself out of my chair, 

“I need to return some calls. Claire, can you coordinate the catering?” 

“Got it.” 

I escaped into the corridor before anyone could protest. I needed air. Needed distance from Jason’s penetrating stare that seemed determined to peel back every layer I’d built. 

My feet moved automatically through familiar hallways. Past the library where I’d spent countless afternoons. Past the formal dining room where I’d celebrated birthdays. Toward the residential wing where I definitely shouldn’t go. 

Turn back. Stay in public spaces. Don’t be stupid. 

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