Page 2 of Her Werewolf Lover

This space is mine. It is safe and sacred, and I will keep it that way.

She exhaled after making that affirmation.

Fucking Gary.

He’d always loved taunting her with his money, and all the ways he could control her with it.

Threatening to destroy things she’d loved was one of his favorite methods of torture.

But now she could breathe again. Samantha was officially divorced. Finally, she was beyond Gary. Completely out of his reach.

The seven-bedroom, three-and-a-half-bathroom, private residence, with one acre of land sitting on a quiet cul de sac was all hers.

She sucked in another breath, needing theoxygen to grasp what this truly meant. Satisfaction bubbled through her veins.

She knew that Gary had only agreed to let her have the house in their divorce settlement completely furnished and free and clear of debt with the taxes paid for the next five years because of her terms.

The businessman in him wouldn’t allow him to turn her down. One little old house in a state he hated,New Jersey, and in return she wouldn’t ask for alimony now or ever.

He could hardly refuse. Foolish as it seemed, he’d never had her sign a prenuptial agreement.

She couldn’t believe it either.

Gary could have been taken for quite the ride, but frankly, she didn’t have it in her. He’d taken all he was going to get out of Samantha.

He wouldn’t take one inch of her soul.

Samantha loved that house. She had already started to move in, traveling from California a few days ago.

She’d put all her worldly belongings into a trailer, paid the drivers, and hopped on a plane. She picked up the Jeep Wrangler she’d bought herself right from the airport and took possession of the residence immediately.

Samantha smirked as she looked around the place. She should have known better than to trust the slime ballexof hers, but she couldn’t bring herself to care.

Not about the terrible décor, the dark red paint, or the gold fringed curtains.

Nope.

She was just that happy. Sipping her wine, she replayed the conversation she’d had with him in her head.

Ugh.

He’d even called her that awful nickname.

“Fine, you can justtake the New Jersey property, Doll. Even if it’s the most valuable piece of land I own. I’ll even give you the furniture.”

The sanctimonious louse. She’d always hated it when he called herDoll. As if she was nothing more than plastic.

Nothing about her looks was fake, despite the nasty rumors he’d started accusing her of enhancing her looks through surgery.

Samantha grimaced and tossed a horrible red velvet pillow across the living room. Gary’s toad of a lawyer had convinced him to give up the place because she was waving her right to sue him foralimony in exchange for a house he did not like or use.

He’d given in. But she should’ve known better than to think it was all good.

Vincenza, she cringed at the thought. His other ex-wife had apparently been hired to redecorate it from the last time Samantha had seen the house three years ago.

The rustic charm of the home she’d loved and remembered was gone. In its place was more red velvet and gold lace than had any business being anywhere off the set of some bad horror flick.

The house actually looked like some kind of vampire bordello.