My fated mate is a Rougha

(Jasmine's POV)

My hand quivered uncontrollably as I clutched my husband's phone. Its screen showed a naked photo sent by an unknown number: a woman wearing only one piece of underwear, her chest towering high and her cleavage exposed. Naked.

But that wasn't the part that shocked me the most. My gaze fell on the embroidery on her underwear-it had my name and his on it. I looked more closely to confirm my suspicion.

It was the same lingerie couple set I bought that Logan, my husband had supposedly misplaced during a business trip. The same one I had picked out specifically for a special occasion. I was so certain because it was custom-made for us, with our initials embroidered on it: J & L.

My mouth hung open, and I hadn't even realized how much my tears had spilled until I felt them on my chin.

I zoomed in to try to find out why this woman looked oddly familiar, and then a crescent-shaped mole on the woman's cleavage hit me like lightning. My stomach twisted. Only one person I knew had such - Samantha, my best friend.

Every detail pointed to her, from her freshly painted white nails to the leg chains she always wore.

How could it be? They don't even know each other in person. When did they meet? Countless questions in my head squeezed my reasoning tightly.

Just then, Logan's car horn blared repeatedly, yanking me out of my spiraling thoughts. Hastily, I wiped my tears and adjusted my hair, composing myself. He was signaling for his phone; it was one of those days he forgot it in his morning rush to leave for work, a habit of his.

As I handed it to him, I swallowed the bile rising in my throat. I couldn't even look him in the eyes because my eyes would betray the turmoil brewing inside of me.

My stomach churned with anguish, yet I had no idea how to react. I wanted to unleash my fury, scream at him, and throw the phone in his face. But my remaining sanity told me that I had to find more favorable evidence to put myself in a favorable position.

I bit back my emotions to prevent an angry outburst and played along, saving my rebellion for later.

"Thanks, babe. Love you," he said casually, taking the phone and driving off without so much as a second glance. He didn't even wait for my response as usual, just a casual dismissal. His recent change in attitude was beginning to make sense now.

As a devoted warrior-ranked member of the Gold Crescent pack, I had pledged to uphold my trust and loyalty to the love of my life, Logan, with every fiber of my being. Never have I doubted his loyalty to the very foundation of our mate bond.

I was well aware that he was a jealous lover who had once engaged in a fight with one of my admirers long before our mating, nearly giving him an irreparable mark, but cheating? Never have I given room for such what-ifs. How would I have known that Logan 's devotion to our bond didn't mirror mine?

I watched his car disappear, my fists clenched tightly at my sides.

Logan, the revered CEO of Prime Company of Gold Crescent Pack, had just stomped on our bond as if it meant nothing. I scoffed in disbelief.

Despite my potential of graduating with honors, topping my class, and being the best student in most of the tough-placed courses, including kickboxing, I had thrown it all away to be a full-time housewife, just to support and please Logan .

I became the woman he wanted, not the woman I dreamed of being. I had been naive. No, foolish.

My heart burned with a raging fire that no ice could extinguish. Fresh tears threatened to spill, but I held them back. I was done crying. I would not continue to be a doormat.

They had done enough already.

And Samantha? Her betrayal cut even deeper knowing she was the one helping him destroy the mate bond. She knew the pack's rules: "Disrespecting a mate bond is punishable by exile," yet she risked it all.

Or was Logan confident because his uncle, the new Alpha of our pack, would protect him? Whatever the case, I couldn't take it anymore.

Locking the door behind me, I retrieved my phone from the TV console and sat on the floor, scrolling through my contacts. My fingers hovered over a name: Rose, a lawyer and my close friend from way back in college.

I gulped, anxiety clawing at my chest. Could I really do this? My hands shook as I typed out the email body: After much reflection, I have come to the difficult decision to request a divorce from Logan. I need help with the papers as fast as the speed of light. I hit send.