The Alpha's Billion-dollar Legacy

An Apology And A Slap

Chapter Three

Two days later, I was still nursing my wounds in my cramped, rundown apartment. My ribs ached with every movement, and the bandages wrapped around me felt like chains, binding me to the reality of my situation. I had just finished changing the dressing on my side when my phone buzzed. The sound felt like an intrusion in the stillness.

“Hello, Mr. Denzel,” I answered, trying to keep my voice steady.

“Auston,” came the sharp reply. My manager’s voice was cold, as usual. “Why haven’t you been answering your calls?”

I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. “I’m sorry, sir. I was in an accident a few days ago, and I’ve been recovering. I should have called.”

“Accident or not,” he snapped, “this company runs on reliability, Mr. Auston. Your absence without notice is unacceptable. You can’t just disappear because life gets tough. This job requires commitment.”

I leaned against the wall, trying not to let his words push me deeper into the pit I was already in. “I understand, sir. I’m doing my best to recover and get back to work.”

“‘Your best’ isn’t enough,” he growled. “We’ve been covering for you, but you’ve left your team in chaos. I need you back, Auston. No excuses.”

“I’ll be there,” I promised.

“Good. Don’t make me regret this,” he said before the line went dead.

I stared at the phone in my hand, his words echoing in my mind. It felt like every part of my life was unraveling, and I had no way to stop it.

I reached for my old briefcase, dusty and frayed from months of overuse. As I rummaged through the files, I found a pen jammed in one of the tears—a pen I thought I’d lost at work. It felt like a cruel joke, a reminder of how insignificant my efforts seemed in the grand scheme of things. Frustrated, I tossed it aside and leaned back, letting exhaustion claim me.

---

By evening, I had forced myself to finish the paperwork I’d ignored for days. I couldn’t afford another mistake, not with my job hanging by a thread. After a quick shower, I was preparing to head out when a soft knock came at the door. It was faint at first, but then louder.

“Hold on!” I called, tying the towel around my waist.

When I reached the door, I hesitated. My instincts flared—a strange mix of caution and heightened awareness, like the wolf inside me had perked its ears. I clenched my fist and leaned against the door. “Who is it?”

“It’s Chris,” came the familiar voice.

Chris? What the hell was he doing here? I unlocked the door and pulled it open cautiously. There he stood, grinning, but my attention shifted to the shadowy figure behind him.

“Hey, man,” Chris greeted, holding out his hand. “You look like hell. I figured you could use some company.”

“Chris,” I said, shaking his hand. “What are you doing here? And how did you even find my place?”

“Asked around. The old guy downstairs was pretty helpful.”

I narrowed my eyes. “All right. So, who’s your friend?”

Chris stepped aside, and the dim hallway light revealed her. Eve.

My chest tightened, and my jaw clenched. The memory of that night—her scream, the thugs, the pain—came rushing back.

“Was this necessary?” I muttered, glaring at Chris. “You know what she got me into, and you brought her here?”

“I know, Auston,” Chris said calmly. “But she wants to apologize. Look, I get it. I’d be pissed too. But I figured you’d want to hear her out. For what it’s worth, she seems sincere.”

I stared at him, the anger bubbling just beneath the surface. After a long pause, I sighed. “Fine.”

Chris patted my shoulder. “Good man. I’ll leave you two to talk. Gotta get back to the shop.”

As Chris disappeared down the stairs, Eve stepped closer, her hands fidgeting nervously.

“Auston, I—I’m sorry,” she began, her voice soft but steady. “I know I messed up, and you got hurt because of me. I didn’t mean for that to happen.”

“Make it quick,” I said, leaning against the doorframe. My arms crossed tightly, and I kept my eyes on the hallway, half-expecting trouble to follow her.

“I don’t blame you for being angry,” she continued. “But I want to make it up to you. I can help you.”

“Help me?” I scoffed. “What makes you think I need your help? You think you can just waltz in here and fix everything?”

Her face hardened. “I wasn’t talking about sex,” she snapped. “I’m trying to do the right thing, Auston. You stood up for me when no one else did. The least I can do is return the favor.”

“Favor?” I spat, my voice rising. “You don’t get it, do you? I don’t need your pity or your handouts. You brought this mess into my life, and now you want to play savior?”

The slap came out of nowhere, sharp and stinging. My head snapped to the side, and my wolf stirred, growling beneath the surface.

“I’m not a slut,” she hissed, her voice trembling with anger. “I came here to apologize, not to be insulted. You’re so quick to judge, but maybe you’re not as innocent as you think.”

I stood there, stunned. My cheek burned, but I swallowed the snarl rising in my throat. I wouldn’t let my temper—or my wolf—get the better of me. Without a word, I opened the door, stepped inside, and slammed it shut.

Through the door, I heard her voice, softer now. “I’m sorry, Auston,” she said. “I really am.”

A moment later, I noticed a small slip of paper sliding under the door. Curious, I picked it up.

A check. For ten thousand dollars.

I stared at the numbers, disbelief mixing with bitter amusement. “An apology with a price tag,” I muttered. “Well, at least it’s worth something.”

I opened the door again, scanning the hallway, but she was gone. The check was still in my hand as I closed the door behind me. With a sigh, I tossed it onto the table and headed for the shower, letting the warm water wash away the lingering scent of her perfume and the memories that clung to my skin.