"Bestie! Look at you, glowing! Or... well, glistening. Same thing, right?"
Natalie's voice was spun sugar—sticky, sweet, and likely to cause cavities. She sat by the hospital bed, her perfectly manicured hand hovering over Louise's arm like she was afraid she might catch the bad luck by osmosis.
Louise managed a smile that felt more like a grimace. "It's probably the fever sweat, Nat. Not exactly a spa treatment."
"Nonsense! You're a warrior," Natalie chirped, her eyes sparkling with something that looked suspiciously like predatory amusement. "How is our patient today?"
"Dying," Louise deadpanned, adjusting the scratchy hospital blanket. "My cells are currently staging a violent coup. I think they've taken the liver hostage."
Natalie let out a dramatic gasp, clutching her pearls—figuratively, since she was wearing a blouse that cost more than Louise's first car. "Don't say that! You have to stay positive. Mind over matter! Your wolf just needs a pep talk."
Louise sighed, glancing at the IV drip counting down the seconds of her life. "My wolf isn't just quiet, Nat. She's basically a throw rug at this point. She used to be this majestic, talkative creature, and now? I think she's ghosted me."
"She'll pull through," Natalie insisted, finally squeezing Louise's hand. Her grip was tight. Too tight. "We're besties. I won't let you go without a fight."
Besties.
The word bounced around Louise's skull like a rubber ball in an empty room. It was a weird label for a step-sister who had spent high school spreading rumors that Louise had lice, and their adult years "accidentally" spilling lattes on Louise's white blouses before big meetings.
But here Natalie was. The only person visiting.
The irony wasn't lost on Louise. Her husband, David—the man she had defied fate for—was nowhere to be seen. And her mother-in-law, Ella? She was probably somewhere lighting a candle against Louise's recovery.
"Where's David?" Louise asked, her voice smaller than she wanted it to be.
"Oh, you know David," Natalie waved a dismissive hand. "Working hard. For you. For your future."
"Right. My future," Louise snorted softly. "The one that's currently measured in weeks."
She thought of David. Seven years ago, he was her hero. He'd saved her from a pack of drunk alphas behind a bar. He was brave, kind, and made her laugh. When the Moon Priestess warned her that choosing a chosen mate over a Fated Mate would sever her connection to destiny, Louise had practically shouted, "I do!"
She was an idiot. A romantic, adorable idiot.
Now, David was a ghost in his own house. He blamed her for their lack of children, a sentiment his mother, Ella Salinger, amplified with a megaphone.
"My son should have married Natalie," Ella had sneered just last week, standing at the foot of this very deathbed. "She's obedient. She has child-bearing hips. You? You're a barren field, Louise. A waste of seed."
"I have cancer, Ella, not a curse," Louise had whispered.
"Same thing," Ella had barked. "You're bringing my David down. Cursed woman."
And David? He had stood there, checking his watch, as if his wife being verbally assaulted was just a boring commercial break.
Louise blinked back tears, refocusing on Natalie, who was currently scrolling on her phone with a bored expression.
"Hey," Louise said, trying to inject some lightness back into the room. "Thanks for being here. Really. Even if you did put gum in my hair in the tenth grade."
Natalie looked up, grinning. "Water under the bridge, babe! I'm your ride or die now."
Suddenly, Natalie's phone buzzed violently against the bedside table. She snatched it up, her eyes widening.
"Oops," she whispered, flashing a conspiratorial wink. "It's the Big Bad Wolf. Mr. Finch. He is royally pissed I took a sick day to visit you."
Louise's stomach did a little flip. Andy Finch.
Her old boss. The billionaire Alpha with a jawline sharp enough to cut glass and a personality cold enough to freeze it. He was Louise's "one that got away"—mostly because she never actually had him. She was the invisible employee; he was the titan of industry.
"Is he yelling?" Louise asked, feeling a strange pang of guilt. "Tell him I'm sorry."
"Oh, he's furious," Natalie giggled, standing up. "I better take this in the hall before he fires me through the receiver. Be right back, Bestie! Don't die while I'm gone!"
Natalie breezed out of the room, leaving a trail of expensive perfume in her wake.
Louise lay there for a moment, staring at the ceiling. Don't die while I'm gone. Funny.
A minute passed. Then two. The silence of the room started to itch. Louise decided she didn't want to be the reason Natalie got fired. Maybe she could talk to Andy? Tell him to back off? It was the least she could do.
Grunting with effort, Louise swung her legs over the side of the bed. Her body felt like it was made of lead and rusty hinges, but she forced herself up. dragging her IV pole like a dance partner.
She shuffled to the door, leaning against the frame to catch her breath.
Down the hallway, she heard Natalie's voice. But she wasn't sounding professional. She wasn't apologizing to a grumpy boss.
She was laughing. A throaty, dark laugh that Louise had never heard before.
"You are a genius, baby," Natalie purred.
Louise froze. Baby? Mr. Finch was strictly a "Ms. Salinger, this coffee is swill" kind of guy. He wasn't a "baby."
"I've never met anyone with such vision," Natalie continued, her voice dripping with lust. "God, I love you. You're a born investor."
Louise's heart hammered against her ribs. She leaned closer, pressing her ear to the cold wall.
"How much is the payout? Five million?" Natalie practically squealed. "Holy Moon Goddess, we're going to be swimming in it! Yes, yes... don't worry. She looks terrible. Like a walking corpse."
The air left Louise's lungs. She means me.
"The doctor said two weeks, but honestly? I give her two days," Natalie laughed again. "She's so gullible, David. She actually thanked me for coming. It was pathetic."
David.
The world tilted on its axis. The floor seemed to turn into liquid. Natalie wasn't talking to Andy Finch. She was talking to Louise's husband.
"I know, I know," Natalie cooed into the phone. "We can use the insurance money for the villa in the South. Finally, we can get rid of her debt and start our family. Does your mom know? Oh, she's thrilled? Tell sweet Ella I said hi. Okay, I have to go back in there and pretend to give a damn. Love you, David. See you tonight at your place? I won't wear panties."
Click.
Louise stood there, vibrating. It wasn't the cancer killing her. It was the betrayal.
Her "bestie." Her husband. Her mother-in-law.
They weren't just indifferent; they were vultures. They were waiting for her to die so they could cash in her life insurance and play house on her grave.
She had spent years feeling guilty for not giving David a child, for losing his money, for getting sick. And the whole time, he had been waiting for the payout.
Natalie's footsteps clicked on the linoleum, coming back.
Panic surged. Louise scrambled back to her bed, throwing herself under the covers just as Natalie breezed back in. Her heart monitor was beeping faster, a erratic staccato rhythm that betrayed her terror.
"Everything okay?" Louise asked, her voice trembling. She hoped it sounded like pain, not fury. "What did Mr. Finch say?"
Natalie sat down, looking at the picture of concern. "Oh, just work drama. Nothing important." She reached out and stroked Louise's hair. "He's such a slave driver. But enough about him. You need to rest, Louise. We're all so eager to throw a big party... once you recover."
A party for my funeral, Louise thought, her vision blurring red.
"Can I really get better?" Louise whispered, letting a tear slip out. She needed to sell it. She needed time.
"Of course," Natalie smiled, her eyes dead cold. "You have the heart of a wolf. Cancer can't bring you down, Bestie."
But a knife in the back might.
Louise looked at Natalie—really looked at her. She saw the cruelty behind the makeup, the greed behind the smile.
I have to divorce him, Louise thought, her mind racing with a clarity she hadn't felt in months. I have to change the beneficiary. I have to call Andy Finch and ask for a lawyer. I have to burn their lives to the ground before I go.
She had to play along.
Evidence first. Confrontation later.
The plan was simple. Collect what she needed tonight, then divorce David and navigate whatever wreckage followed.
Yet, she never expected she'd die in the process.