Ray POV
The sound of shattering glass echoed through the air as the expensive vodka, meant to welcome my fiancée Pamela, hit the ground. My eyes widened in shock as I took in the scene—the glass was everywhere, and the vodka, worth a staggering eight million dollars, was now nothing more than a puddle on the floor.
The woman who had let the drink slip from her hands gasped in horror, her hands flying to her mouth as if to stifle a scream. I couldn't even begin to process what had just happened, my gaze darting wildly around the room.
"Sir Ray, I'm so sorry," she stammered, her voice laced with sincerity as she dropped to her knees. "It was a mistake."
Each word felt like a dagger to my heart, and I could feel my anger rising. I had always hated apologies, and this one was no exception. The woman's words seemed insincere, and I could sense the fear behind them.
"How could you be so careless?" I growled, my voice low and menacing. "That vodka was worth eight million dollars!"
The woman cowered, her eyes cast downward in submission. "I know, sir. I'm truly sorry. It won't happen again."
But I was beyond consolation. The woman's mistake had cost me dearly, and I couldn't forgive her so easily.
"Do you think I would forgive you so easily?" I sneered, my voice dripping with disdain, as I approached her. She backed away, but I was too quick, and soon I had her pinned against the table.
"You think you can just apologize and make everything okay?" I growled, my hand raised and ready to strike. "You think a simple 'sorry' will suffice?"
My hand made contact with her face, and she cried out in pain as her lip split and blood poured out. "I'm sorry," she whimpered, her eyes welling up with tears.
But I was unforgiving. I grabbed her arms and flung her onto the table, her body hitting it with a loud thud. The remaining pack members gasped in shock and fear, but I just glared at them.
"What are you looking at?" I snarled, my brows furrowed in anger and my nostrils flaring. "Get back to work, fools!"
They quickly scattered, muttering apologies as they went. But I just turned back to the woman, my anger still simmering.
"You should be sorry," I hissed, my eyes blazing with fury. "You should be very sorry indeed."
"Get out of my sight, you incompetent fool!" I bellowed, my hands clenched in frustration as I struggled to contain my anger. I couldn't believe the carelessness of my employee.
As she slunk away, I could hear her stifling sobs, her pitiful moans grating on my nerves like the whining of a pesky puppy. "Stop that silly sobbing and get out!" I thundered, my voice echoing off the walls as I pointed towards the door. "Take your pathetic apologies and your useless tears elsewhere!"
My words were harsh, but I didn't care. I was fed up with her incompetence and her sniveling. I needed people who could get the job done, not sniveling weaklings who couldn't even apologize properly.
I stepped away from the bustling living room, where the sound of laughter and chatter filled the air. With my hands tucked in my pockets, I made my way to my room, feeling overwhelmed with joy at the thought of my fiancée and her family joining me in my mansion. As I grasped the doorknob and pushed the door open, a sigh of relief escaped my lips.
But as I entered the room, my mind suddenly went blank. I had been so caught up in the excitement of the moment that I had forgotten the most important thing—the ring! I rushed to my cupboard and retrieved the exquisite gold ring, its value paling in comparison to the worth of my beloved fiancée.
With the ring securely in hand, I felt a sense of relief wash over me. I couldn't imagine kneeling before her without it, and I was grateful to have remembered it in time. Now, I was ready to take the next step in our journey together.
My mind was still preoccupied with thoughts of the ring when suddenly, my phone pierced the silence with its ringing tone. I murmured to myself, "My phone," and followed the sound to the bed, where I had likely tossed it. I tapped the receiver's button to answer. "Hello?"
The voice on the other end delivered a shocking message: "Sir Ray, we've lost Pamela." My heart racing, I stood frozen, adrenaline surging through my veins. The words hung in the air like a challenge, leaving me reeling with concern and uncertainty.
Without hesitation, I rushed out of the mansion and jumped into my car, peeling out of the driveway with a screech of tires. I sped to the hospital, my heart racing with urgency. When I arrived, I burst into the corridor and rushed to Pamela's ward, my eyes already brimming with tears.
But as I entered the room, I was met with a scene that made my blood run cold. Pamela was sitting up in bed, being fed by her mother. I stood frozen, my mind struggling to reconcile this with the news I had just received that she was dead. I ignored the confusion and approached her slowly, my steps deliberate.
"Pamela, are you okay?" I asked, my voice laced with stupidity as I stared at her in disbelief. She rolled her eyes at me and turned back to her meal, her gaze dismissive.
It had been a week since Pamela returned home from the hospital, and I had noticed a significant change in her behavior towards me. She seemed distant and cold, refusing to let me touch her or even acknowledge me as her fiancé. Despite this, I was relieved to see that she was recovering well.
Determined to rekindle our connection, I secretly planned a romantic gathering to propose to her. With excitement building up inside me, I held the ring and smiled, savoring the beauty of the day. I took a deep breath and asked, "Pamela, I want you to be my Luna. Will you be my Luna?" My eyes were closed, awaiting her response, but they snapped open when her words hit me like a ton of bricks.
"No," she muttered, her reaction piercing my heart like a dagger, I stood shocked.