Chapter 29
Federico woke up in his office, his neck stiff from the awkward position he had slept in. He groaned, rubbing the back of his neck as he slowly sat up. Papers were scattered across his desk, a half-empty glass of whiskey beside them, and his royal robe draped haphazardly over the chair. He glanced at the clock on the wall, realizing it was already morning.
“Damn it,” he muttered, annoyed at himself for falling asleep there. He hadn’t intended to stay in his office all night, but after the argument with Azalea and signing the contract, he couldn’t bring himself to return to their shared room.
With a sigh, Federico stood up and quickly put his robe back on, adjusting it with precise movements. The ball was approaching-the annual event where their Pack would host all the clans this year. It was a huge responsibility, one he couldn’t afford to mess up, especially with the eyes of every pack on them.
He left his office, walking briskly back to his room. As he pushed the door open, he saw Azalea still asleep, curled up under the heavy blankets. She looked peaceful, her chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. For a moment, Federico just stood there, watching her. Her face, usually so tense or guarded around him, was soft, almost serene in her sleep.
But the sight only reminded him of the distance between them-the contract they’d signed, the coldness that had settled into their relationship. He shook his head, tearing his gaze away. There was no use in dwelling on it now.
He quickly got dressed, choosing his royal attire for the morning’s training. The annual ball wasn’t just a social event; it was a political one. He needed to be ready, not just for the ceremony but for the power plays that would inevitably follow. His father, King Marcos, had always warned him that these gatherings were more dangerous than any battle.
—
Federico strode onto the training field, his royal robe billowing behind him as he spotted Leandro and Thomas already there with several guards. Young warriors were sparring in the distance, the sound of clashing swords and grunts of exertion filling the air. The sun was just rising, casting a golden light over the field, but Federico’s mind was far from peaceful.
Leandro was the first to notice him approaching. “Federico! We were beginning to wonder if you’d slept in.”
Thomas smirked beside him. “Or maybe you were up late with your wife?”
Federico ignored the remark, keeping his face neutral as he stopped beside them. “How is my father? Is he coming to observe the training today?”
Leandro exchanged a glance with Thomas before answering. “He’ll be here soon, but he’s been keeping to himself lately. Something’s on his mind.”
Federico nodded, though his focus was already drifting. His mind kept going back to the document he and Azalea had signed the previous night. A contract to play the perfect couple in public, to show unity before the Pack and the other clans, while maintaining the cold, distant reality of their marriage in private. The deal was simple, but it weighed heavily on him.
Thomas crossed his arms, watching Federico closely. “Seems like you’re always leaving your bedroom early these days. Trouble at home?”
Federico chuckled, a low, humorless sound. “Trouble? No, just business as usual.” He kept his tone light, though the comment stung more than he’d like to admit. He had barely spoken to Azalea after the contract was signed, and yet it already felt like the gulf between them was widening.
“Business, huh?” Thomas pressed, raising an eyebrow. “Or maybe you’re avoiding something?”
Federico didn’t respond, his attention drawn to the young warriors sparring in the distance. He didn’t have time for this-he couldn’t afford to let his personal life interfere with his duties. Especially not with the ball approaching, and certainly not with the eyes of every pack on him and Azalea. They had to be perfect, even if it was all a lie.
—
As the young adults trained, Federico noticed movement at the edge of the field. He turned his head, his gaze locking onto Azalea as she approached. His heart skipped a beat despite himself. She walked with quiet grace, her posture straight, and her face unreadable. Just behind her, another figure caught his eye-Maya.
Maya moved toward him with a confident stride, her expression one of easy familiarity. Federico tensed. He had already spent too much time thinking about her, about how easily she fit into his world, how much simpler things would have been if their marriage had happened instead. But now, with Azalea walking toward him, the contrast between them felt sharper than ever.
Before Maya could reach him, Azalea spoke up. “My love.” Her voice was steady, though Federico could hear the hint of discomfort in her tone. She was playing along, just as they had agreed.
He turned to face her, keeping his expression neutral, though the use of the endearment sent a strange ripple through him. “Azalea,” he replied, his voice cool but respectful. He stepped toward her, closing the distance as if to solidify the illusion they had created. “How did you sleep?”
She smiled faintly, though it didn’t reach her eyes. “I slept well, thank you. And you?”
“I slept fine,” he lied. His neck still ached from the uncomfortable position in the office chair, but that wasn’t something he was about to share.
Maya paused a few feet away, her eyes flicking between them. Federico could sense her surprise at the shift in his behavior-he rarely showed Azalea any affection, even the public kind. But now, with the contract in place, he had no choice. He had to play the part of the doting husband, at least in front of others.
“You’re just in time to see the young warriors train,” Federico said, gesturing to the field, keeping his tone light. “Leandro and Thomas were about to give them a lesson.”
Azalea nodded, standing beside him as if she belonged there, though he could feel the tension radiating off her. They were both pretending, both playing a role they hadn’t asked for.
Maya lingered for a moment longer, her gaze lingering on Federico before she turned away, joining the other spectators. Federico watched her go, a strange mix of relief and regret swirling in his chest. Things were simpler with Maya, but now, with Azalea beside him, the reality of his situation was impossible to ignore.
—
As the morning went on, Federico found himself glancing at Azalea more than once. She stood quietly by his side, her hands folded in front of her, watching the training with a distant expression. She was fulfilling her part of the contract, just as he was. But there was something different now-something that unsettled him.
He didn’t care that she wasn’t like Maya. He didn’t care about her feelings, or at least, that’s what he told himself. But the more he thought about the document they had signed, the more he realized something was changing. Azalea had agreed to the terms without protest, and had even signed the contract without looking at him afterward. She didn’t care about his affection, his approval, or his anger. She didn’t care if he noticed her or not.
And that, more than anything, made him feel something he hadn’t expected.
Rejected.
For the first time in his life, Federico felt as though he was the one being pushed aside, the one whose feelings didn’t matter. And as they stood there, side by side, pretending to be the perfect couple, he couldn’t help but wonder if this was what their life would always be like-a performance, an illusion, and nothing more.