Forbidden Romance with My Ex's Father-in-Law

The Breaking Point

Aria's POV

The rejection letter sat on my nightstand like a tombstone. Three sentences. That's all it took for Ethan to end us.

“Aria, I'm choosing a different path. Our bond was a mistake. Don't contact me again.”

I stared at the words until they blurred, my wolf howling somewhere deep inside my chest. The mark on my neck throbbed, a constant reminder that the bond hadn't severed yet. It wouldn't be until he claimed someone else. Until then, I'd feel everything—his excitement, his anticipation, his complete lack of remorse.

My phone buzzed. Another message from my mother.

“Where are you? Your father needs you home. Now.

I ignored it. Whatever crisis Dad had manufactured this time could wait. I had spent twenty-two years being the perfect daughter, the obedient pack member, the supportive mate. Look where that got me.

The club downstairs was already pulsing with music when I finally left my hotel room. I had checked in here three days ago, the morning after Ethan's letter arrived. My parents thought I was staying with friends. My friends thought I was home. Nobody knew I had been hiding in the Grandeur Hotel, trying to figure out how to keep breathing when everything hurt.

The elevator descended smoothly, my reflection staring back at me from the mirrored walls. I looked like hell. Dark circles under my eyes, my hair thrown into a messy knot, wearing jeans and a tank top that had seen better days. Not exactly club attire, but I wasn't here to impress anyone.

The lobby bar was quieter than the main club, filled with business travelers and couples having late dinners. I slid onto a barstool in the corner, as far from everyone else as possible.

"What can I get you?" The bartender was young, probably my age, with kind eyes.

"Whatever's strongest."

He raised an eyebrow but didn't comment. Smart man.

My phone buzzed again. This time it was my best friend, Sage.

“Aria, your mom called me. She's worried. What's going on?”

I typed back quickly. “I need space but I'm fine.”

The drink appeared in front of me, something amber and potent. I took a sip and felt it burn down my throat. Good. At least I could still feel something besides heartbreak.

"Rough day?"

The voice came from my left. I turned to find a man settling onto the barstool beside me, despite the dozen empty seats scattered around the bar. He was older than me, maybe late thirties, wearing an expensive suit with the tie loosened. Dark hair, sharp jawline, and eyes that seemed to see right through me.

"Rough year," I muttered, taking another drink.

He signaled the bartender. "Whatever she's having, and a scotch for me."

"I didn't ask for company."

"No, you didn't." He accepted his drink with a nod of thanks. "But you look like someone who could use a distraction."

I should have told him to leave. I should have moved to another seat. Instead, I found myself studying him. There was something familiar about him, though I couldn't place it. Something in the set of his shoulders, the confidence that rolled off him in waves.

"Not interested in being anyone's distraction," I said finally.

"Good. I wasn't offering to be yours either." He took a sip of his scotch, his eyes never leaving mine. "I'm simply a stranger at a bar, having a drink next to another stranger. No expectations."

My wolf stirred, interested despite our broken hearts. She had been quiet since Ethan's letter, withdrawn and grieving. Now she pressed forward, curious.

"You always this forward with women in bars?"

"Only the ones who look like they're contemplating terrible decisions." The corner of his mouth lifted. "I figured I would provide a less terrible option."

Despite everything, I felt a smile tug at my lips. "What makes you think I'm contemplating anything terrible?"

"Because I've made enough terrible decisions to recognize the look." He gestured to my drink. "And because people don't usually drink top-shelf whiskey alone unless they're trying to forget something."

"Or someone," I said before I could stop myself.

He nodded slowly. "Or someone."

We sat in silence for a moment, the noise of the bar fading into background static. There was something oddly comfortable about this stranger, something that made the constant ache in my chest ease just slightly.

"Ethan Ross," I said quietly. "That's who I'm trying to forget."

The man squinted his eyes. "The Alpha candidate?"

"Former mate." The words tasted bitter. "He rejected me yesterday. Well, technically three days ago, but I've been in denial."

"Ah." He took another drink. "And let me guess, he's engaged to someone more politically advantageous?"

I laughed, but it came out broken. "How did you know?"

"Because men like Ethan Ross don't choose love over power. They never do." He set his glass down carefully. "I'm sorry. That's not what you want to hear."

"No, it's exactly what I need to hear." I finished my drink, feeling the alcohol warm my blood. "Everyone keeps telling me he'll come back, that he's just confused, that our bond is too strong to ignore. But you're right. He chose power, he chose her."

"Vivienne Thornhart," the man said, and something in his tone made me look at him sharply.

"You know her?"

His smile was cold. "I know her father."

Before I could ask what he meant, my phone exploded with calls. My mother, Sage, and even my brother. Something was wrong.

I answered my mother's call with shaking hands. "Mom? What's—"

"Aria, where are you?" Her voice was ragged, like she'd been crying. "You need to come home right now. Your father's been arrested."

The hotel bar spun around me. "What?"

"Financial fraud. They're saying he embezzled from the pack funds, that he's been running a scheme for years. The Gammas came and took him an hour ago. Aria, they're freezing all our accounts. They're taking everything."

The phone slipped from my numb fingers. The stranger caught it before it hit the ground, his movements impossibly fast.

"I have to go," I whispered, sliding off the barstool. My legs felt like water.

"Wait." His hand caught my arm, steady and warm. "You shouldn't drive like this. You're in shock."

"My father…"

"I heard." He was already pulling out his phone. "I'll have my driver take you. Where do you live?"

"I can't…I don't even know you."

"Kieran." He met my eyes, and I saw something there that made my breath catch.

"My name is Kieran Thornhart."

Thornhart. As in Vivienne Thornhart. As in the family that was taking everything from me.

"You're her—"

"Father." His expression was unreadable. "And before you run, you should know that I had nothing to do with your father's arrest. But I might be able to help."

I should have run and called him every name I could think of and walked out of that bar without looking back.

Instead, I heard myself ask, "Why would you help me?"

Kieran's smile was slow and dangerous. "Because Aria Dawn Mercer, I have a feeling you and I might be able to help each other. And because watching Ethan Ross realize what he lost might be the most entertaining thing I've done in years."

My mother was still sobbing on the phone, which had somehow ended up in Kieran's hand. He spoke to her calmly, professionally, promising that I was safe and on my way home.

When he hung up, he handed me the phone and gestured toward the elevator.

"My penthouse. We should talk before you go rushing into whatever disaster is waiting at home."

Every instinct screamed at me to refuse. This man was Vivienne's father. The father of the woman who had stolen my mate. Going anywhere with him was insane.

But my father was in jail. My family was losing everything. And Ethan had made his choice.

Maybe it was time I made mine.

I followed Kieran Thornhart into the elevator, my heart hammering against my ribs. The doors closed, and I caught my reflection one last time—disheveled, heartbroken, desperate.

By the time those doors opened again, I promised myself, I would be something else entirely.