CHAPTER 297: CHAPTER 297: SPIDER DEN (2)

Vivienne’s laugh was soft, but it cracked at the edges. "Velloran was a partner, nothing more. You think too highly of your own warnings."

Trevor’s eyes didn’t waver, the faint gleam of his ring catching the desk light as he shifted his stance. "A partner?" His voice was quiet, almost conversational. "You experimented on omegas under the cover of his name. You let him bankroll your delusions, but he disappeared, and his wealth was nothing more than dust."

Vivienne’s lips pressed into a thin line, the brittle smile faltering for the first time. "Delusions?" she repeated, voice tightening. "Is that what you call ambition now? You, of all people, should understand what it means to want more than the role handed to you."

Trevor’s expression didn’t change, though the light from the monitor caught the sharp angle of his jaw. "How does it feel to be ignored by your world, hmm? How does it feel to be cast aside while the world that revolved around you left you behind?"

Vivienne shot up from her chair, the legs scraping hard against the floor. Her mask slipped completely now, eyes blazing. "You bastard!"

Trevor didn’t flinch. He stepped closer, the polished thud of his shoes a steady counter to her outburst. "You knew what I was, Vivienne," he said, voice level, almost quiet. "You knew my dark side better than anyone. And still you reached for what was mine."

Her breath hitched, rage warring with something closer to fear. "Lucas?" she spat, lips curling. "You’d destroy me over him?"

Trevor’s mouth curved, but the smile never reached his eyes. "No. I’ll destroy you because you thought you could touch him at all."

The silence that followed was heavy, broken only by the faint hum of the monitor and Vivienne’s uneven breathing.

Her fingers tightened on the desk, nails scraping against the wood. "You think you can frighten me with words? You’ve already taken everything once. I built this from nothing, Trevor. This is mine."

Trevor’s gaze stayed fixed on her, steady and unblinking. "No. This was borrowed with Velloran’s money, cleverly stolen records, and fabricated credentials. Even your title..." his eyes narrowed, his tone sharpening just slightly, "a lie. You were never a dominant omega. You hid in his shadow and preyed on the weak because you couldn’t stand to feel inferior to anyone."

Her face blanched, the thin smile trembling at its edges. "You don’t get to decide what I am."

"I don’t have to," Trevor replied, calm as stone. "The world already has. All I did was gather the evidence and put it in the right hands." He leaned closer, the gleam of his cufflinks flashing in the light as his voice dropped into something colder. "Every board, every sponsor, every official that once smiled at you now has your real file. And when they see what becomes of you tonight, they’ll believe it was your own arrogance that broke you."

Vivienne’s breath came quicker, chest rising and falling too fast. "How did you..."

Trevor cut her off with a quiet, razor-edged smile. "I’m the Grand Duke of Fitzgeralt, do you really think something like this would escape me? I should be either stupid as fuck or actively ignoring it."

Vivienne’s lips parted, but no sound came. Her hands trembled against the desk, the polished mask of composure slipping with every ragged breath.

Trevor straightened, adjusting the line of his jacket with unhurried precision. "You should have stayed gone, Vivienne. I gave you that chance. But instead, you came back to play scientist, to dress cruelty up as progress, to crawl into bed with Velloran’s corpse of a fortune." His gaze fixed on her, hard and unyielding. "Did you really think I wouldn’t shield my mate?"

Vivienne staggered back, her chair clattering against the wall. "You can’t..."

Trevor didn’t answer. He stepped forward once, twice, and let go.

The air thickened instantly, saturated with the raw weight of a dominant alpha. It rolled out of him in waves, like a hand pressing down on every inch of skin; every shallow breath was dragged through lungs that no longer obeyed.

Vivienne’s body jerked as though struck. Her nails bit into the desk until they scraped against the wood, her shoulders curling as her own scent buckled and broke. The cloying sweetness she had cultivated rotted in seconds, collapsing under the sheer force pressing into her nervous system.

Her throat tightened. She tried to breathe, but each inhale shuddered against the invisible grip crushing her chest. Sweat beaded at her temple, sliding down as her legs began to shake.

Trevor adjusted the line of his cufflink, the movement smooth, as if the collapse of the woman in front of him were nothing more than the expected result of gravity. He leaned slightly closer, and the pressure doubled, pressing her spine toward the floor.

Vivienne gasped, mouth open as though clawing for air, but the weight bore her down. Her knees slammed into the linoleum, the sound sharp against the thick silence. She coughed, her body trembling violently, her nails leaving shallow grooves in the desk as she tried to hold herself upright.

The pressure lingered, relentless, until her arms gave out and she folded onto the floor, cheek pressed against the cold tile, lungs dragging in ragged, useless gulps. The scent of her collapse spread acrid and sour, all pretense of dominance burned away.

She tried to scream. The sound died in her throat as the pressure twisted tighter and heavier until the room itself seemed to close in. Her spine bowed, vertebrae creaking under the invisible weight. Sweat streaked down her temple, mouth open in a silent cry.

CRACK!

The sharp, sickening sound split the silence. Vivienne collapsed fully, her body jerking once before crumpling against the cold tile.

Only then did Trevor ease back, withdrawing the force as cleanly as he had released it. The air lightened, but the damage was done, her body still shivering, her breaths shallow, her eyes wide with panic and defeat.

Trevor straightened his jacket, immaculate once more, and turned without a glance. His shoes struck the floor in a steady rhythm, echoing down the corridor as he left the office behind.

His mind was already elsewhere, on cedar-scented sheets, on warmth and quiet, on the place where Lucas was waiting.