Page 1 of Abandoned By My Alpha Husband

Chapter One

Elena

"Elena, take this wine up to the VIP suite on the third floor."

I was wiping down the bar when Maggie's voice made me pause. "Third floor?"

"Yeah, the VIP suite." Maggie leaned in, lowering her voice. "Big shot tonight. Werewolf nobility. You know the drill—"

"I know." I cut her off, tossing the rag into the sink. "Drop off the wine and get out, right?"

Maggie's expression turned complicated. She glanced around to make sure no one was listening. "Just be careful. Two girls got fired in the past few months for pissing off clients. And..." She hesitated. "I heard another girl in East City got hurt."

My fingers tightened. "I'll be careful."

"Go on." Maggie sighed, handing me the tray. "Don't keep them waiting."

I picked up the tray and took a deep breath. Three bottles of aged red wine sat there—probably worth six months of my rent. As I headed upstairs, I caught a whiff of the fragrance blend I'd applied that morning—lavender and sandalwood. One of my best formulas. Clean, not too sharp, perfect for masking the smell of alcohol and grease after a long shift.

I checked how well the scent was holding up. Good news—still strong.

Making fragrance was my side business. I'd always had a freakishly good sense of smell and could pick up nuances others missed. Before Dad died, he said it was a gift. Told me to use it well. He was a quiet human man who raised me alone. Never talked about my mother. Didn't even keep a photo. Only sometimes, when he was feverish or drunk, he'd mumble her name. But I could never make it out. All I knew was that whenever Dad mentioned her, his face twisted in pain.

My mother didn't want us. She despised us.

Because of what Dad said, I started mixing my own blends. Turned out pretty well. I could pinpoint exactly what people wanted—the scent, the feeling. I took small orders online. Between that and the hotel job, I was almost done saving for college tuition.

Just a few more months. Then I could leave this hellhole.

The third-floor hallway had thick red carpet, oil paintings on the walls, crystal chandeliers casting dim yellow light. Every step I took, my shoes sank into the plush floor with soft sounds. I'd never been up here before. Usually Susan handled VIP deliveries—until a few months ago when one of the drunk werewolves dragged her inside... I shook my head. Didn't want to think about that.

The VIP suite was at the end of the hall. I stopped at the door, smoothed down my wrinkled uniform skirt, and knocked softly.

No response.

I waited a few seconds and knocked again. "Sir? Your wine is here."

Still nothing.

I bit my lip. Protocol said if the guest didn't answer, I should leave. But Maggie's warning echoed in my head—"Don't keep them waiting."

Screw it. Drop off the wine and go.

I took a deep breath and gently pushed the door open.

The room was huge. More opulent than the hallway. Dark leather sofas, a hardwood coffee table, expensive-looking paintings on the walls. Amber wall sconces bathed everything in intimate light.

Someone was lying on the sofa.

I froze.

A man. Wearing a tailored black shirt, buttons undone, exposing a solid chest. The shirt was soaked with sweat, clinging to him, outlining lean, powerful muscles. One arm draped over his forehead, short black hair messy, his face flushed an unhealthy red. Even though his face was tilted up, I could make out his striking features. My heart started racing. My face heated. I felt like a middle choler about to confess.

Was he... sick?

"Sir?" I ventured, setting the tray gently on the coffee table. "Are you okay?"

"Get out."