CHAPTER 123: CHAPTER 123 WITNESSED

Victoria

The morning light streamed through the whitewashed walls of Nicos’s studio as I entered for my second official lesson. The familiar smell of oil paints and turpentine greeted me like an old friend, calming my nerves.

"Good morning, my favorite student," Nicos called out cheerfully, wiping his hands on a paint-stained cloth.

"I’ve been practicing," I said proudly, pulling out my sketchbook to show him the studies I’d been working on—several attempts at capturing Leo’s sleeping face and the view from our villa terrace.

Nicos examined my work with genuine interest, nodding appreciatively. "Your instincts are good, Victoria. You have a natural eye for proportion and light."

As he set me up with a still life to practice—a simple arrangement of Mediterranean fruits and a clay jug—I gathered my courage to make my request.

"Nicos, I was wondering if you might consider another commission," I said, pulling out my phone. "Something special this time."

His eyebrows raised with interest. "For your husband?"

I nodded, scrolling to find the photo I wanted to show him. It was from our mating ceremony—a moment captured perfectly as Leo and I sealed our bond with a kiss. The photographer had caught us in profile, the setting sun casting a golden glow around us, Leo’s powerful frame bent protectively toward me, my hand resting on his chest where his heart would be.

"This is us at our mating—our wedding," I explained, showing him the screen. "I’d like you to paint this as a surprise for Leo."

Nicos took the phone, studying the image with an artist’s critical eye. After a moment, a smile spread across his face.

"By the goddess, what a striking couple you make," he said, zooming in to examine details. "The contrast between you is magnificent—his darkness and your light, his power and your grace." He looked up at me, eyes twinkling.

"Could you do it?" I asked hopefully. "Before we leave the island?"

Nicos handed the phone back to me with a decisive nod. "I will do more than that. I will make it my gift to you both—a wedding present. No charge."

"Nicos, I couldn’t possibly—" I began to protest.

He waved away my objections with paint-stained fingers. "Please, allow me this honor. It’s not every day I get to paint a true mating bond. There is something special about you two—something that calls to the artist in me."

Touched by his generosity, I impulsively hugged him. "Thank you, Nicos. That’s incredibly kind."

"Now," he said, pulling back with a gentle smile, "send me that photo, and let’s continue with today’s lesson while I think about how to approach your commission."

For the next two hours, I lost myself in the meditative process of translating what my eyes saw onto paper. Nicos was a patient teacher, under his tutelage, my still life began to take shape—not perfect, but recognizably mine.

"You’re hungry," Nicos observed as my stomach growled audibly during a break. "We’ve worked through lunch."

I glanced at the time on my phone, surprised to see it was already past one. "Why don’t you join me for lunch? There’s a lovely taverna next door, and it’s the least I can do to thank you for the gift you’re giving us."

Nicos agreed, and after washing our hands, we headed to the small taverna. The owner greeted Nicos like an old friend, showing us to a table on the shaded patio overlooking the narrow cobblestone street. We ordered a feast of mezze to share—grilled octopus, tzatziki, dolmades, and fresh bread still warm from the oven.

"Tell me about your husband," Nicos said as we ate. "He seems very... intense."

I smiled, thinking of Leo’s fierce protectiveness. "He is. Leo’s powerful."

"And yet he looks at you as though you hold his heart in your hands," Nicos observed shrewdly.

"We found each other at a difficult time," I admitted, careful not to reveal too much. "I think we both recognized something we needed in the other."

Nicos nodded, sipping his wine. "The best partnerships are like that—each person bringing something the other lacks, creating balance."

Our conversation flowed easily through lunch, touching on art, Greek mythology, and island life. As we finished our meal, Nicos suggested we take our coffee to go and walk back through the market square to his studio to check on my drying practice piece.

The square was bustling with activity—tourists browsing jewelry stalls, locals gossiping by the old well, children chasing each other between the vendors. And then I saw them.

Leo and Samantha, standing close together near a secluded café entrance. They were engaged in what appeared to be an intense conversation, their heads bent toward each other. As I watched, frozen in place, Samantha placed her hand on Leo’s arm, leaning in to whisper something. He didn’t pull away.

My heart stuttered painfully in my chest.

"Victoria?" Nicos’s voice seemed to come from far away. "Are you alright? You’ve gone pale."

I couldn’t respond, my eyes fixed on the scene before me. Leo’s expression was serious, focused entirely on whatever Samantha was saying. Then he nodded, taking something from her—a small package or envelope—and slipping it into his jacket pocket.

"Is that—" Nicos began, following my gaze. "Oh. Your husband and... a friend?"

"His ex," I said, the words feeling like ground glass in my throat. "Samantha."

Understanding dawned on Nicos’s face. "Ah. That... complicates things."

Ava whined inside me, confused and hurt. What was Leo doing with Samantha? What was in that package? And why had he lied about being busy with pack business when he was clearly free enough to meet with her?

"I should go," I said abruptly, handing Nicos some bills for our lunch despite his protests. "Thank you for the lesson. I’ll... I’ll be in touch about the painting."

"Victoria, wait—" Nicos called after me, but I was already moving, slipping between market stalls to avoid being seen by Leo or Samantha.

Had Leo been lying to me all along? Was Samantha still in his life in ways he hadn’t disclosed? The secret meetings, the hushed conversations, the package changing hands—it all seemed so clandestine, so... wrong.

Tears burned behind my eyes as I hurried back toward our villa, taking the long way around to avoid any chance of running into them. My mind raced with possibilities, each more painful than the last. Had I misread everything? Was I just another conquest for him, while Samantha remained his true confidante?

But what about Bella? Did she know this cruel truth?

By the time I reached the villa, my hurt had crystallized into anger. I would not be made a fool of. I would not be the naive, trusting mate who looked the other way while her Alpha conducted his affairs in plain sight.

I went directly to our bedroom, pulled out my suitcase, and began methodically placing my belongings inside. I wasn’t sure where I would go, but I knew I couldn’t stay here, pretending nothing was wrong, while my heart shattered into pieces.

Ava howled in distress at the thought of leaving our mate, but I steeled myself against her protests. I deserved better than lies. I deserved better than watching Leo and Samantha share secrets while I painted pretty pictures like an oblivious child.

As I folded a dress and placed it in the suitcase, my fingers trembled. The bond between us pulled painfully, as if warning me against what I was doing. But I couldn’t unsee what I had witnessed. I couldn’t unfeel the betrayal cutting through me like a silver blade.

"You promised me always," I whispered to the empty room, a tear finally escaping to track down my cheek. "You promised me truth."

The irony wasn’t lost on me—that on the very day I had commissioned a painting to celebrate our bond, I had discovered the potential hollowness behind it. Whatever Leo and Samantha were plotting, whatever history they still shared, I wouldn’t stand by and let myself be made into the foolish mate who turned a blind eye.