<b>Chapter </b>170: I Don’t Love You Anymore
Chapter 170: 1 Don’t Love You Anymore
(Connor’s POV)
1 emerged from the bathroom at Shadow Den, water droplets still clinging to my dark hair. <i>My </i>phone buzzed on the marble countertop with an iing message from Gabriel Andrews.
The screenshot made my blood run cold. Adrian Sinir’s Howlr post showed him dining at the Winters
Family Estate with Olivia and Grace. The second photo captured Olivia’s elegant profile as she sat at the
dinner table.
My wolf snarled with territorial fury. That calctingwyer had maneuvered his way into spending an entire
evening with my mate under the pretense of arranging a ydate for the children.
The timestamp showed they had dinner togetherst night. While I was handling pack business, Adrian was
sitting beside Olivia in her family home, ying the role of the perfect gentleman suitor.
My ice–blue eyes darkened as I studied every detail of the photos. The intimate domestic setting. Olivia’s
rxed smile. The way Adrian positioned himself next to her at the dinner table.
I dialed Dr. <b>Victoria </b>Sterling’s number immediately. The werewolf psychologist answered on the second ring.
<b>“</b>Alpha <b>Connor</b>, how can I help you?”
“Dr. Sterling, I wanted to check on Grace’s recovery progress. How is she responding to social interaction<b>?</b><b>” </b>
“She’s making remarkable improvements,” Dr. Sterling replied warmly. “Yesterday’s ydate with Sophie
Turner was particrly beneficial. Grace showed genuine happiness for the first time since her ordeal.”
“What activities bring her the most joy currently?” I asked, my mind already formting ns.
“Art supplies, children’s books, and anything that helps her express creativity. She’s also drawn to healing
crystals and nature–themed items.”
“Thank you, Doctor. This information is very helpful.”
I immediately called Frank Langley. “Frank, I need you to prepare an borate gift selection for Grace
Winters, Premium art supplies<b>, </b>rare children’s books, healing crystals, and anything else that would delight an eight–year–old girl recovering from trauma.”
“Understood, Alpha. When do you need these prepared?”
“Within the hour. I’m visiting the Winters Estate today.”
<b>The </b>next morning, I arrived <b>at </b><b>the </b>Winters Family Estate with a mountain of carefully chosen gifts. Frank had outdone himself with the selection everything from imported colored pencils to first–edition fairy tale books.
Agnes Turner opened the grand entrance door, her expression warm but cautious. “Alpha Connor, Miss Olivia is in <b>the </b>sitting room.”
I found <b>Olivia </b>arranging flowers in a <b>crystal </b>vase, her honey–brown hair catching the morning sunlight. <b>She </b>looked up as I entered, her amber eyes notably <b>cold</b>.
“I’m <b>here </b><b>to </b><b>see </b><b>Grace</b><b>,” </b><b>I </b>said gently, despite the tension radiating from her.
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< Chapter 170 1 Don’t Love
“Thanks<b>,</b><b>” </b>she replied curtly, not even looking at the gifts I carried.
“How is Grace’s recovery progressing? Is she sleeping better now?”
“She’s fine.” Olivia’s response was clipped and distant.
My wolf whined with confusion at her coldness. Something had changed dramatically since ourst conversation at herw firm.
“Has she been having nightmares? Dr. Sterling mentioned-”
“She’s managing well,” Olivia interrupted, her tone making it clear she didn’t want to discuss Grace’s
condition with me.
The sound of approaching footsteps made us both turn. Adrian Sinir appeared in the doorway, his gold–rimmed sses reflecting the morning light.
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“Alpha Rivers, what brings you here?” Adrian asked with deceptive politeness, though his territorial challenge
was unmistakable.
“Why shouldn’t I be here? I’m visiting Grace,” I retorted coolly, my ice–blue eyes shing with warning.
Adrian smiled with false warmth. “You misunderstood. No one said you couldn’te. I’m simply curious about the timing.”
“I can see I’m indeed unwee in your presence,” I replied, my voice carrying dangerous undertones.
The tension in the room became suffocating. Both our wolves circled each other metaphorically, neither
willing to back down from this territorial dispute.
Before either of us could escte further, Natalie Winters descended the grand staircase with Grace and
Sophie Turner in tow. The children’sughter broke through the oppressive atmosphere.
Grace’s amber eyes lit up with genuine delight when she saw the mountain of gifts. “Are those for me?” she
asked with wonder.
“Yes, sweetheart. I thought you might enjoy some new art supplies and books,” I said warmly, my demeanor
softeningpletely in the child’s presence.
Grace pped her hands together with joy. “Thank you, Alpha Connor<b>! </b>Can I open them now?<b>” </b>
“Of course,” I smiled, watching her happiness with satisfaction.
Natalie approached with polite reserve. “Alpha Connor, how thoughtful of you to visit Grace<b>.</b><b>” </b>
Her response was courteous but distant – a marked change from her previous warm eptance of me as
Olivia’s intended mate. The shift in family dynamics left me puzzled and concerned,
<b>“</b>Mrs. Winters, I hope Grace continues to recover well from her ordeal.”
“She’s been much bettertely,” Natalie replied carefully, her eyes flickering toward Adrian with subtle
acknowledgment.
In <b>the </b>formal living room, Adrian and I sat rigidly on opposite ends of the expensive furniture. The atmosphere crackled with unspoken rivalry as we maintained our territorial standoff.
Olivia attempted to alleviate <b>the </b>ufortable tension by engaging Adrian in detailed professional discussions, “Adrian, have <b>you </b>reviewed the precedent <b>cases </b>for the Hengyang territorial dispute?<b>” </b>
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Chapter 170:1. Don’t Love
<b>“</b><b>Yes</b><b>, </b><b>I </b>found several relevant rulings from the Northern Territory <b>courts</b><b>,</b><b>” </b>Adrian replied smoothly, his
attention focused entirely on her.
Their easy rapport and intellectual connection made my jaw clench with barely restrained jealousy. My wolf prowled restlessly beneath my controlled exterior as I watched them discussplex legal theories.
“The jurisdictional issues are particrlyplex,” Olivia continued, her amber eyes bright with professional
enthusiasm.
“Exactly. The territorial boundaries established in 1987 create significantplications,” Adrian agreed,
leaning forward with obvious interest.
I sat in silence, excluded from their specialized conversation, my hands clenched into fists on my knees.
As lunchtime arrived, both Adrian and I remained for the meal, neither willing to concede ground to the other.
The dining room atmosphere remained tense throughout the elegant lunch service.
After the meal, Adrian seemed to sense Olivia’s growing difort with the territorial tension. He graciously decided to leave with Sophie, demonstrating his tactical awareness.
“Sophie, we should head home now,” Adrian said gently. “But we’ll arrange another ydate soon.”
“Thank you for bringing Sophie,” Olivia said warmly, her relief at his departure barely concealed.
Once Adrian departed with Sophie, I turned to Olivia with urgent intensity. The political developments I’d learned couldn’t wait any longer.
“Livvy, the political situation in ckmoor Territory is shifting. Frederick Warner’s supporters are losing power rapidly.”
Her amber eyes widened with surprise. “What do you mean?”
“The current administration is facing massive corruption scandals. Harrison ckthorne’s government is
copsing, and Frederick’swork of protection is crumbling with it.”
I leaned forward earnestly. “With the impending downfall of Frederick Warner’s allies in ckmoor Territory, dealing with the exiled threat will be significantly easier.”
“This suggests hope for our future safety,” I continued, my voice filled with conviction. “The possibility of a peaceful life together without constantly looking over our shoulders.”
Olivia’s face crumpled with overwhelming pain. <b>She </b>struggled visibly with her emotions, her hands trembling as she gripped the armrest of her chair.
Finally, she whispered the words that shattered both our worlds: “I don’t love you anymore.”
My face turned ashen, the color drainingpletely from my features. My ice–blue eyes filled with raw
<b>anguish </b>as my wolf howled in denial deep within my chest.
“Livvy, what-<b>” </b>
“I’m sorry,” she whispered quickly, tears streaming down her cheeks<b>. </b>“I’m so sorry.”
<b>She </b>fled from the room before I could respond, leaving me devastated and alone in the elegant sitting <b>room</b>, <b>my </b>world crumbling around me.
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