Caden's POV: The party outside was already in full swing. The moment I stepped out, I was instantly surrounded—some with genuine greetings, others just pretending to care. My gaze drifted over the crowd, eventually landing on a couch in the corner of the room where Queenie and Wendy sat side by side. Wendy's eyes met mine. A spark of excitement flickered across her face as she stood up, clearly intending to come over. But I ignored her and turned straight back toward my grandfather. My mother was standing next to him, speaking about something I didn't catch. "Caden, didn't you go to get Rosie?" she asked. "Where is that girl? Still nowhere to be seen?" Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Wendy approaching. I paused for a second, then answered quietly, "She'll be here soon." Wendy blinked, a smug little smile tugging at the corners of her lips as she lowered her eyes. I caught the expression but didn't acknowledge it. "Today is Richard's birthday," my mother said sharply. "And yet the entire celebration has to wait for an Omega? This is completely inappropriate." By now, Wendy and Queenie had walked up to us. Queenie crossed her arms and spoke loudly, "We all know what kind of person Rosaline is, don't we? Just look at my face—this is her doing!" Even under heavy makeup, the redness on Queenie's cheek was visible, and frankly, it looked more comical than pitiful. "But, Queenie," Wendy said with a faux-innocent tone, "didn't you say it was just an accident before? So why—?" She suddenly stopped herself, glancing around like she realized she'd said too much. My mother's eyes widened, and she chided, "What do you mean, accident?! Rosaline hasn't even married into this family yet, and she's already bullying Queenie. What will it be like if she actually becomes one of us? And now she's a no-show at Richard's party? Completely out of line." I shot her a cold glare. She immediately fell silent in panic, her eyes darting away. "Since the party has already started, let's not dwell on this anymore," Wendy chimed in smoothly. "Mr. Richard, I prepared something special for you today. I really hope you'll like it." She stepped forward with a bright smile.The other werewolves overheard this and turned their attention toward us. It was supposed to be a sweet birthday tribute, but after just a few seconds, the screen flickered—and suddenly, the footage changed. Gasps broke out all around. "What the heck is that?" "Is she for real? That's shameless." "She actually played this at Alpha Richard's party? What is Wendy trying to pull?" "I heard she's had a crush on Caden forever. Maybe she lost it after finding out he's engaged to Rosaline?" Wendy had her back to the screen at first, but as the whispers grew louder, she turned around—then let out a bloodcurdling scream. On the screen was a blurry photo: a woman in a skimpy dress, clearly drunk, sprawled across a bar couch. Several male werewolves surrounded her, touching her in ways that made everyone uncomfortable. And the woman in the footage? It was Wendy. Her face drained of color. Wendy's POV: That night at the bar—I never meant for this to happen. Queenie and I had gone out for drinks, and I had a little too much. When I woke up surrounded by empty bottles and the mess, I panicked and left as fast as I could. But how did those pictures end up here? I was certain I uploaded Rosaline's photo for the projector! "No! This isn't right! They're fake—these photos are fake! What's going on?" I screamed, racing up to the screen and yanking at the curtain. "Turn it off! Shut it down, now!" The werewolves around me looked on with a mix of surprise, amusement, and disdain. Then a voice rang out from behind the crowd. "What's going on here?" Everyone turned to look. Rosaline stood at the edge of the crowd, a curious expression on her face. She looked up at the screen. The moment she recognized the image, her lips curled in disgust. Then she pointed straight at me, her eyes wide with mock surprise. "Oh wow ... isn't that your photo?"I froze. She was still wearing the same dress—the one I know I destroyed. I was sure I had completely destroyed her gown—so how on earth was she still wearing it? The whole plan hinged on that. If the dress was ruined and I released those photos at the party, she wouldn't have been able to show up and explain herself right away. But now, not only was her dress perfectly intact, she was standing here in the flesh. And the footage on the screen? Someone had certainly swapped them out. As I watched her smiling face, a horrible realization hit me all at once. I charged straight at her, pointing an accusatory finger in her direction and shouting, "It was you! You did this! Rosaline, you're absolutely ruthless!"