Ex-Mate Wants Me Back (Seraphina and Mortimer) novel Chapter 162

Chapter 162

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Chapter 162

Third Person’s POV

Yesterday, Tade honestly couldn’t figure it out-why the hell Alpha Mortimer had ordered him to text a fake separation rumor to his own phone in the middle of the night.

Now, it all made perfect sense./

The bastard was deliberately manufacturing a corporate PRcrisis just so he could use the “debunking” process as an excuse to force his way back into Luna Seraphina’s good graces. Absolute manipulative genius.

Catching Tade’s knowing look, Mortimer shot him a lethal ‘keep your mouth shut’ glare before carefully sliding into the back

seat with Dash.

Tade quickly scrambled into the passenger side.

Twisting around in his seat, he reported, “Alpha, the toys, premium canned food, and treats you ordered for Dash have already been delivered to your office.”

“Excellent. Your bonus is doubled this month.”

Tade’s eyes instantly lit up like twin high-beams.

Seraphina’s apartment was quite a distance from the Craig Corporation headquarters, and they hit the absolute worst of the morning rush hour.

By the time Mortimer arrived with Dash, the employees were already at their desks.

Seeing their notoriously ruthless, ice-cold CEO stride into the lobby cradling a tiny golden retriever puppy, the entire workforce. was absolutely paralyzed.

“What is happening?”

“Since when is Alpha Mortimer a dog person?”

“Is the Craig Corporation pivoting to a cute, pet-friendly corporate culture?”

Within half a day, the entire building knew the puppy’s true identity.

It belonged to Luna Seraphina. Since she was too busy at the healing center to look after him during the day, Mortimer was personally babysitting.

Rumor had it the top-floor executive suite was currently buried under a mountain of squeaky toys and pee pads.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d think Mortimer was opening a boutique pet shop.

“So Alpha Mortimer and his wife actually have a great relationship! He’s literally doing doggy daycare for her!”

“He never even claimed that Vivian woman was his wife. She was just a shameless imposter who let everyone call her ‘Madam’ without correcting them!”

“Ugh, don’t remind me. I’m so screwed. I was actually a fan of hers! If Alpha Mortimer finds out I left a comment calling Vivian’ Mrs. Craig,’ I’m going to get fired!”

“I’m in the same boat! I literally liked every single comment calling her that!”

“God, I hope the real Mrs. Craig doesn’t come after us…”

The entire Craig Corporation was in a state of mass hysteria, terrified that HR was going to start handing out pink slips for past social media activity.

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While his employees were having collective panic attacks, the ruthless CEO in question was sitting at his mahogany desk, casually scrolling through the Craig Corporation’s official PR account.

“Look at our CEO’s precious baby! Isn’t he adorable?” The attached photos showed Mortimer holding Dash, with Seraphina standing right next to him.

They were the exact candid shots Tade had snapped in the elevator.

A few of them even caught Mortimer leaning in to whisper to Seraphina with a remarkably natural, soft expression.

They looked exactly like a normal, happily married couple having a morning chat.

With their striking looks and Mortimer’s billionaire Alpha status, the post was pure engagement bait.

Add in the recent roller-coaster drama of the “medical malpractice” and the “shameless mistress” scandals, and the comment section completely exploded.

Most of the comments were overwhelmingly positive, praising how perfectly matched they were.

But one specific thread caught his eye-

“I saw them in my building’s elevator last night! Didn’t realize they were Mr. and Mrs. Craig at the time.”

“Mr. Craig was holding that little golden retriever-it looked like it had fallen into a sewer. It was hurt and smelled absolutely awful, but he didn’t care at all. Held it so securely.”

Reading this, the heavy, suffocating depression Mortimer had been carrying for days felt miraculously cured.

These people really know how to talk.

But just as a smug, satisfied smile spread across his lips, another comment popped up in the thread, freezing the smirk right off

his face.

“OMFG! I was checking my car’s dashcam footage this morning and saw some psycho throw a golden retriever puppy into a storm drain last night! Is that Mr. Craig’s dog?!”

“Who the hell has the guts to do that? Check my pinned post for the video!”

Mortimer’s eyes turned pitch black. He immediately clicked on the user’s profile.

Pinned at the top of their page was a raw, unedited dashcam video.

In the footage, a tiny golden retriever puppy was carefully hugging the side of a building, walking along the sidewalk.

Whenever someone walked past, his little tail would tuck tightly between his legs. He looked completely terrified and pathetic.

As the puppy crept forward, a middle-aged couple approached from the opposite direction.

They seemed to be in the middle of a heated argument. The woman’s face was twisted in an ugly, aggressive scowl, violently spitting curses.

Because the car was parked a short distance away, the exact words were muffled.

As the couple walked past, the puppy pressed himself flat against the wall, freezing in place to stay out of their way.

That was when the nightmare happened.

The woman suddenly noticed the puppy. Without warning, she raised her foot and delivered a vicious, full-force kick right into Dash’s ribs.

She spat another curse at him.

Chapter 167

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The tiny pippy was terrified, cowering in the corner, shaking violently.

His eyes were wide with innocent, raw panic.

But the woman wasn’t done. Stilbraging, she grabbed the puppy by the scruff of his neck, lifting him entirely off the ground, and dragged him a few feet over to a heavy cast-iron storm drain.

With a bizarre, unnatural surge of strength, she managed to pry the manhole cover open. Without a single second of hesitation, she tossed the puppy straight down into the pitch-black sewer.

She then forcefully slid the heavy grate back into place, sealing him in the dark.

Finally, she dusted off her hands with a smug, satisfied smirk-as if abusing a helpless animal had just successfully relieved her stress-and walked away without looking back.

The middle-aged man with her didn’t physically participate in the abuse, but he didn’t lift a finger to stop it either.

He just stood there like a cold, detached bystander, watching the whole sickening scene play out.

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