Chapter 10: Territorial Boundaries
Chapter 10: Territorial Boundaries
(Samantha’s POV)
I pushed against Ethan’s chest, trying to create space between us in the cramped confines of our walk–in closet. My back
pressed uncomfortably against the hanging clothes.
“Ethan, stop,” I said firmly, turning my face away from his seeking lips.
He didn’t listen. His hands tightened around my waist, pulling me closer despite my resistance. His breath was hot
against my neck, eyes darkened with a possessive hunger I recognized all too well.
“Sam, please,” he murmured, his voice rough with desire. “Let me show you how much I’ve missed you.”
My struggles only seemed to fuel his determination. His fingers dug into my hips, his body caging mine against the wall
of hanging clothes.
In our tussle, my ceremonial dress–a midnight–blue silk creation with delicate silver embroidery–slipped from its hanger.
The expensive fabric cascaded down, draping over Ethan’s head and shoulders like a shimmering curtain.
He barely noticed, his mouth finding my neck beneath the collar of my robe. His teeth scraped against my sensitive skin, followed by a bruising kiss that was more claiming than affectionate.
“Ethan, you’re hurting me,” I cried out, genuine pain in my voice.
He froze instantly. The predatory gleam in his eyes faded, replaced by confusion, then dismay. He stepped back, the ceremonial dress sliding to the floor between us.
“I’m sorry,” he said, running a hand through his disheveled hair. “I didn’t mean to-”
“But you did,” I cut him off, pulling my robe tighter around me. “You always do this. Push and push until you get what you
want.”
He looked at me for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then he turned and walked to the bathroom without
another word.
I heard water running as he washed his hands. When he emerged, he deliberately used my personal towel to dry them-
another small act of possession.
His gaze fell to the ceremonial dress on the floor. He bent to pick it up, his fingers caressing the expensive fabric.
“This is new,” he remarked, his tone deceptively casual. “I don’t remember buying it for you.”
Before I could respond, he pulled out his phone and snapped a picture of the dress. His thumbs moved rapidly across the screen, no doubt sending the image to James Quinn with orders to investigate.
“You don’t need to inventory my wardrobe,” I said coldly.
His eyes met mine, calculating and intense. “I want to know who’s been buying you gifts, Sam.”
I descended the grand staircase of Blackwood Manor, my hand trailing lightly along the polished banister. The marks on my neck throbbed slightly–physical evidence of Ethan’s possessiveness.
Ms. Thompson bustled out from the kitchen, her face lighting up at the sight of me. Her smile faltered when she noticed the reddened skin at my throat.
“Oh, Luna Reed,” she said quietly, reaching up to adjust my collar to better hide the marks. “I’m so glad you’re back. The
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< Chapter 10 Territorial Bound
Alpha has been beside himself with worry.”
+15 Puntos >
She guided me toward the kitchen, her motherly concern evident in every gesture. “You two just need to talk things through. Every couple has rough patches.”
“It’s more than a rough patch, Ms. Thompson,” I replied gently, not wanting to hurt her feelings. She’d always been our biggest supporter.
“Nothing that can’t be fixed with a good meal and honest conversation,” she insisted, setting a steaming bowl of
moonlight herb soup before me. “Eat. You look too thin.”
I took a few spoonfuls to please her, but my appetite had vanished. The weight of what I needed to do pressed heavily on
my chest.
When Ethan entered the kitchen, Ms. Thompson quickly made herself scarce, no doubt hoping we would reconcile in her
absence.
“We need to talk,” I said, pushing the soup away.
Ethan nodded, his expression carefully neutral. He sat across from me at the kitchen island, his attention focused on
October, who had trotted in behind him. He pulled out a small pair of clippers and began trimming her claws.
“I want a divorce,” I said directly, watching his face for a reaction.
His hands remained steady as he continued grooming October. “Is that what you really want, Sam?”
“Yes,” I replied firmly. “Our issues go far beyond Rebecca’s pregnancy, Ethan.”
He looked up then, his amber eyes intense. “Explain.”
“You’ve systematically dismantled my healing career,” I said, the words spilling out after years of silent resentment. “You used your influence to redirect potential patients to other healers. You filled my schedule with Luna duties that kept me
too busy to maintain my practice.”
His jaw tightened, but he didn’t deny it.
“You planned to trap me with a child,” I continued, my voice growing stronger. “To ensure I’d never leave you, never
outgrow you.”
“Is that what you think?” he asked quietly.
“I know it,” I replied. “And I won’t be controlled anymore. I want three–quarters of your assets and 10% of your shares in
Blackwood Enterprises as settlement.”
(Ethan’s POV)
I set down the clippers, giving October a gentle pat before turning my full attention to Samantha. Her demands were steep
but not unexpected. She’d always been intelligent, strategic.
“I’ll transfer all my assets to you if you stay,” I offered, watching her eyes widen in surprise. “Everything I own can be yours,
Sam. Just don’t leave.”
She shook her head, unmoved by my offer. “This isn’t about money, Ethan. It’s about freedom.”
The word stung more than I cared to admit. Had I truly made her feel so trapped?
“I propose we start living separately,” she continued. “You can move out while we sort through the legal details.”
I studied her face–the determined set of her jaw, the clarity in her eyes. This wasn’t an impulsive decision made in anger. She’d thought this through.
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“Alright,” I agreed, surprising her. “I’ll leave tonight.”
+16 Puntos >
I rose from the table and headed upstairs without another word. In our bedroom, I packed a suitcase with mechanical efficiency–just the essentials. Clothes, toiletries, my laptop. Everything else could be replaced.
When I returned downstairs, Samantha was waiting by the front door, her arms wrapped around herself as if she were
cold.
“I’ve taken care of the Rebecca situation,” I said, setting my suitcase down. “She’s been removed from the picture.”
Samantha’s expression didn’t change. “It’s too late for that.”
I nodded, accepting her response. “I’ll have James bring the divorce papers tomorrow. You should rest now. You look
tired.”
I reached out instinctively to touch her face, then stopped myself. She wasn’t mine to touch anymore–not if she didn’t
want to be.
“Goodnight, Sam,” I said, picking up my suitcase and walking to my SUV.
As I drove away from Blackwood Manor, I glanced in the rearview mirror. Samantha stood in the doorway, a small figure
framed by the grand entrance of our home. My home. The one I’d built for her.
I pulled out my phone and dialed James.
“I need everything you can find on that dress,” I said without preamble. “And I want round–the–clock surveillance on
Blackwood Manor. Discreet, but thorough.”
“Understood,” James replied. “What about the Rebecca situation?”
“Handled,” I said shortly. “She’s been compensated and relocated.”
“And the pregnancy?”
I gripped the steering wheel tighter. “Terminated.”
(Samantha’s POV)
I watched Ethan’s SUV disappear into the night, its taillights growing smaller until they vanished around a bend in the
driveway.
ran through me despite the warm evening air. Ethan had agreed too easily. He’d been too accommodating, too
It wasn’t like him to surrender without a fight.
October sat beside me, her warm body pressed against my leg. I stroked her soft fur, finding comfort in her simple
affection.
“Sorry,” I murmured to her. “Mother has a baby in her belly now, so I can’t hold you like I used to… But it will be leaving
soon.”
My hand rested protectively over my stomach. Tomorrow’s appointment with Dr. Miller couldn’t come soon enough. I needed to be free of all ties to Ethan before moving forward with my plans.
I turned and went back inside Blackwood Manor, the heavy door closing behind me with a resonant thud. Without Ethan’s commanding presence, the house felt cavernous and empty.
The vastness of the entrance hall struck me anew. High ceilings, marble floors, priceless artwork–all symbols of Ethan’s success, his power. I’d once found comfort in these luxurious surroundings. Now they felt like the walls of a beautiful prison.
Had I done the right thing? The sudden doubt made me pause at the foot of the grand staircase.
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415 Funtos >
I pulled out my phone, needing a distraction from my thoughts. The screen lit up with notifications–dozens of them. Frowning, I opened the first one, a news alert.
My breath caught as I saw the trending topic: “#Ethan Blackwood, Alpha King of the Northern territories, Picks Up His Mate at the Airport with High Profile.”
The article featured multiple images: Ethan waiting with the glowing Moonbloom roses, his face lighting up as he spotted
me, him embracing me while I stood stiffly in his arms.
