Mr. Black, You Never Counted Me

Aaliyah’s POV

Location: Aurelia, EverSouth

Tonight births a new beginning.

I think as I adjust one of my crescent-shaped diamond earrings. Sitting inside the limo, I look through its blackened glass at the entrance of the Grand Magnolia and the massive crowd surrounding it.

“Of course,” I mutter.

Damien has always been one for extravagant things, and what better way to say I’ve made it than to celebrate Blackwell International going public at the most prestigious hotel in Aurelia?

I run my hands over the smooth manila envelope in my lap.

“Are you ready, Mrs. Carter?” James, my driver, asks. “There’s a lot of press here tonight. Seems to me they’re looking for more than just a story on the grand opening.”

“Then maybe I should give them one.” I smile. “Besides, don’t worry about me. I’m used to all the chaos by now. My father is the biggest peacock in the entire city, remember?”

James returns my smile, though worry remains on his face.

He exits the car and opens my door.

I step out to the flash of a million lights and the shutters of reporters’ cameras.

“Mrs. Carter! Who are you wearing tonight? You look amazing!”

The thought stings.

My mother commissioned this dress before her passing. One she never got to see me in.

Moon Weaver silk.

I never understood why she said the fabric was extremely special. Black from head to toe, the gown is fitted through the bodice and waist before falling gracefully around my legs.

I shake off the thought of her.

Tonight is not a night for sadness.

It is a night for retribution.

“Are you excited about your husband’s big night?” a reporter asks.

“I am excited about many things tonight,” I reply. “Now, please excuse me.”

The click of my stilettos echoes as I continue my mission.

Inside, the Grand Magnolia lives up to its reputation. A crystal chandelier hangs beneath a soaring glass ceiling while sweeping marble staircases curve toward the upper floors. Black, ivory, and antique silver decorate nearly everything.

Magnolia blossoms are carved into pillars and woven into the carpets. Silver veins run through the marble floors like moonlight.

Massive LED screens display Blackwell International’s achievements, and I fight the urge to scowl at the logo on each frame.

“Champagne?” a server asks.

I take one from his tray.

“There are a lot of elites here.”

“But of course. Mr. Black is doing something revolutionary. The advancements Blackwell International will bring to Aurelia, and eventually the world, are things one could only dream of.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes! Mr. Black is brilliant. He deserves tonight.”

I place the champagne flute back on his tray.

“I have to agree. Mr. Black deserves everything he gets tonight.”

Walking away, I slip through the crowd of CEOs, executives, and international partners until the sound of merriment fades.

“I can’t stand his ass,” I grumble.

“Who would have thought the heiress of the Silvermoon Pack would speak such language?”

I almost jump out of my skin.

“You scared the hell out of me, Uncle Henry.”

He raises his hands defensively.

“My apologies. Would you be so kind as to forgive an old man?”

I smile and embrace him. His gentle nature hasn’t changed since I was younger.

“Just this once.”

Pulling away, his face breaks into a grin.

“You look beautiful, my little Moonflower.”

He brushes his fingers over the silver crescent hairpin holding the right side of my hair in place.

“Just as beautiful as when your mother wore it.”

“Thank you, Uncle Henry.”

“I was starting to think you would not show.”

“Why wouldn’t I? It is Damien’s big night, after all.”

“You mean the man whose ass you can’t stand?”

I purse my lips.

His eyes drop to the envelope.

“What is that?”

“Just something I need to give Damien to commemorate his special day.”

“Mhm.” A twinkle appears in his eye. “Remember, Moonflower, you’re in the Grand Magnolia. Out in the world, you may fool the humans, but here, the Night Mother watches intensely.”

“Then I shall have to put on my best performance. If it’s satisfactory, perhaps she will grant me my wolf.”

The age lines on his face crinkle.

“Moonflower—”

“A thought for a different day,” I say, cutting him off. “Go inside. I’m going to freshen up my makeup first.”

He nods and leaves.

Once his shadow disappears, I peer through the ballroom doorway.

Every major business magazine seems to be represented, along with Alphas from influential wolf packs around the world.

I wonder what these humans would do if they knew they were surrounded by werewolves.

The string quartet stops playing.

Damien steps onto the stage, and the crowd erupts.

“Thank you, everyone,” he begins. “Tonight will change my life forever.”

He raises his champagne flute.

“A toast to you all for believing in the vision of Blackwell International. Let us continue to thrive and prosper…”

His words taper off.

The crowd has turned toward me.

I straighten my back and enter.

Whispers follow.

“That’s Damien’s wife. Aaliyah Carter.”

“Look at that gown.”

I pass beneath the ballroom lights.

And silver appears.

At first, it is barely noticeable—a faint shimmer along my waist.

Then another thread catches the light.

And another.

With every step, more silver reveals itself.

The threads woven through the Moon Weaver silk seem to awaken, winding across the black fabric in intricate patterns. Magnolia blossoms emerge along my hip. Thin vines curl around my legs. Tiny crescent moons appear between the flowers like pieces of a hidden night sky.

Someone gasps.

I glance down.

Still black.

Still elegant.

But no longer simply a gown.

It looks as though someone has taken the night sky and stitched it directly into the fabric.

I have never seen it do that before.

Whatever the reason, I don’t slow down.

My fingers brush the silver Carter pendant resting against my chest.

A wolf beneath a crescent moon.

The Carter crest.

I lift my eyes.

Damien is staring at me.

Not with admiration.

Not exactly.

His posture has gone rigid. For the briefest moment, he looks as though he has forgotten the hundreds of people watching him.

Our eyes meet.

Damien takes an unconscious step toward me, then stops. His hand goes to his chest.

“Mr. Black, are you all right?” a coordinator asks.

“I’m fine.”

He extends his hand toward me.

I take my place beside him.

As the light catches my dress again, another gasp sounds nearby.

Two werewolf elders stare at me with terror on their faces.

“Moon Weaver silk only shines like that…” one whispers.

“When it recognizes someone,” the other replies.

“Someone?”

His eyes remain fixed on the silver blossoms.

“Those blossoms…”

“What about them?”

“They’re blooming.”

The first elder pales.

“No…”

The second grabs his arm.

“We need to go.”

They rush from the ballroom.

I watch them disappear, confusion settling in my stomach.

“You’re here,” Damien whispers.

“Where else would a wife be but at the place celebrating her husband’s success?”

I turn toward the cameras.

“Good evening, everyone. Damien, since everyone is here, I feel this is the proper time.”

I extend the envelope.

“What is this?”

“A wife giving her husband a gift. Congratulations on your success, my dear. Please allow me to celebrate mine.”

Damien opens it.

His eyes widen.

“Is this some kind of joke, Aaliyah?”

“Not at all. I find no laughter in a divorce agreement.”

Murmurs explode throughout the ballroom.

“My wife is a prankster,” Damien says to the crowd. “Pay her no mind.”

I chuckle, feeling the crescent embroidery of my dress glow like a soft ember against my back.

“May you always know how to maintain a façade, Damien. Sign the agreement and let’s end this.”

I pause.

“Oh, and no need to fret. You are a billionaire through your own hard work and dedication, and I have no desire to take that title from you through a tumultuous divorce. However, that which comes from the Carter family name, I will reclaim as mine.”

Damien steps toward me.

“Fine. But know this, Aaliyah. If I sign this document, I am never coming back.”

“I look forward to the day.”

I descend the stage.

“Aaliyah!” Damien shouts as I reach the door. “Stop right there this instant!”

The natural toffee hue drains from his face, leaving him ghostly pale.

“I said stop!”

“No, Damien.” He freezes. “The time has come. I truly hope your company succeeds on its own because after tonight, I no longer will be a part of it or this marriage.”

I walk through the ballroom doors and leave my past behind.

In the limo, silence soothes me as I replay the night.

I thought I would be angry or sad, but I feel neither.

When I handed Damien the divorce papers, it was the first time he ever looked afraid of losing me.

Unfortunately for him, it was a look that came too late.