---- Chapter 17 JOSIE POV: That night, there was a knock on my door. | knew it was him. My wolf paced restlessly inside me, hackles raised. | opened it, leaving the chain on. Laurence stood there, looking even worse than he had that morning. He held out a thin file. "Here," he said, his voice strained. "This is the proof. Bank transfers, communications. Everything you need to ruin her." | took the file, my fingers trembling slightly. | didn't want his help. | didn't want anything from him. But this... this was for my father. | closed the door in his face and sat down to read. The cold, hard facts on the pages made my stomach churn. Every detail of the plot, every calculated move Rosalie had made, was laid out. My anger was a physical thing, a hot pressure building behind my eyes. | hated her. But a small, dark part of me hated myself, too. If | had been stronger, if | had left sooner, maybe my father would still be alive. He knocked again, more insistently this time. "Josie, please. Let me in." ---- | opened the door, my control snapping. "What do you want from me, Laurence? You bring me this, and you think it fixes everything?" "No," he said, stepping inside before | could stop him. "Nothing can fix it. But | had to tell you. | had to... I'm so sorry, Josie." He took a step closer. "l was a fool. A blind, arrogant fool. | didn't see you. | didn't see what was right in front of me." His voice dropped to a whisper. "I love you." A harsh, bitter laugh escaped my lips. "Love? You don't love me. You love the idea of me. You love what you lost. You can't stand that your little Omega toy grew a spine and walked away. Your Alpha pride is wounded, that's all." "No," he insisted, his eyes wild with desperation. He reached out, his fingers closing around my wrist. The touch wasn't electric anymore. It was just cold. "It's you. It's always been you. | was just too stupid to see it." | pulled my arm away. "You want to make it right? You want my forgiveness?" | challenged, the words tasting like poison. "Fine. Give me back my father. Can you do that, Alpha? Can you trade your life for his? If you can bring him back, then I'll think about forgiving you." It was a cruel, impossible demand, meant to silence him, to make him leave. But he didn't flinch. He just stared at me, a strange light ---- dawning in his eyes. After a long, heavy silence, he nodded slowly. "Okay," he whispered. "I will." | scoffed. "Don't be ridiculous. You're just saying that." Before | could react, he turned and strode into my small kitchen. | heard a drawer rattle open. He came back holding one of my steak knives. The handle was black, but the blade ... the blade was coated in silver, a housewarming gift from Chris for protection. "Laurence, what are you doing?" | asked, a knot of fear tightening in my stomach. He looked at me, his eyes filled with a terrifying resolve. "Proving it." And then, in one swift, horrifying motion, he plunged the silver -coated knife deep into his own abdomen. A strangled gasp escaped my lips. He swayed on his feet, his eyes wide with shock and pain, before collapsing onto my floor in a rapidly spreading pool of dark blood.