Chapter 1

Elena's POV

"What the hell do you mean by Ashanti is moving in?"

My voice trembled as I stared in horror at my husband, Michael, and his supposed best friend, Ashanti, busy setting the dining table with different dishes.

I had just come back from antenatal check-up at the pack's hospital, and the last thing I had expected to see was Ashanti running in and out of my house like she owned the place.

"Elena, calm down. Will you?" Michael's voice broke into my head.

His voice was so calm, so smooth, so not like someone who had left his pregnant wife for five days without so much as a "bye," only to come back home with another woman.

Now, clearly I could tell he'd been spending all that time with Ashanti. How could he be so cruel?

I started to speak, but his voice rose over mine.

"You shouldn't act this way when you've not even seen Ashanti in like two years. She's been battling cancer all this while and just came back to the pack to recover completely."

"Can't you be a bit nicer?" he finished.

His words made rage ignite wildly in my chest and I ground my teeth hard for control. How could he have the balls to gaslight me right now?

"And you didn't think you should discuss it with me before bringing her in?" I asked, unbelief evident in my voice.

"Look, Elena. I'm sorry I didn't tell you beforehand. It completely slipped my mind. I was so preoccupied with making our anniversary special for you."

Special my ass! I wanted to retort.

But then, he approached me with a smile, placing his hands on my waist and spinning me on my heels to press my rear against him.

He then placed his chin on my head, rubbing my slightly protruding stomach.

"I'm so sorry, okay? I'll make it up to you. I promise. Ashanti is only going to stay here for a few days."

No matter how sweet it was, his apology sounded insincere. Or maybe it was the dread that had settled in my gut at Ashanti's sudden arrival.

"The food is ready, Michael." Ashanti's voice sounded from the dining.

I glanced at her in time to see the contemptuous look she threw at me. She quickly masked it as we locked gazes.

"And you too, Elena. You can join if you want."

I scoffed. I scoffed really hard. She really was the one now calling the shots in my own bloody matrimonial home.

"I made Ashanti prepare something really nice for you," Michael said as he took my bag from me and dragged me towards the table.

Expelling a helpless breath, I took my seat. Then, Ashanti started dishing out food.

The moment she placed a plate of sauce before me, the aroma of chicken hit my nostrils and my neck started to itch me.

I scrunched my nose up and scratched at my neck. I was allergic to chicken, and I thought Michael knew about that.

So, why did he make Ashanti prepare it?

"Why aren't you eating?" he finally noticed after almost clearing the content of his plate.

"Chicken sauce?" I tried without success to keep the bitterness out of my voice.

"I'm allergic to chicken, Michael."

"Oh," he mouthed. "I'm sorry. I completely forgot and Ashanti didn't know either."

"I'm sorry I forgot," Ashanti chipped in, her voice unnecessarily nice.

Then, she pushed a plate of salad to me, smiling as she said, "You can take this instead."

I just stared at the salad, making no effort to touch it.

I saw her smile falter, just enough to show the evil glint in her eyes.

"You should take the salad, Elena. It would help prevent the kind of miscarriages you've been having for the past four years."

I couldn't miss the mockery that laced her words and I struggled hard not to let her see how bad it affected me.

How dare she tell me what to do in my home?

Not to mention her talking about my miscarriage, which I had hidden from outsiders. Did Michael tell her about it too?

Still, I didn't take the food. Neither did I speak.

Michael shifted in his chair with unease. "Elena, I believe Ashanti is only looking out for you. You really don't want another miscarriage."

My chest tightened with different emotions, pain, humiliation, fury. How could he still say that in this situation?

But he only continued, completely ignoring my feelings.

"C'mon, Elena, rejecting Ashanti's nice gestures is a bit."

"Fine!" I shot in, feeling frustrated and tired of his stupid favoritism.

I began stuffing my mouth with the salad then, took a gulp of water.

"There you go!" I spat as I grabbed my bag and left the table angrily.

I went straight to the guest room, determined not to see Michael again for the rest of today. But I soon realized the room was packed with Ashanti's luggage.

I hissed angrily, making for the door, but in that moment, my phone buzzed in my bag. Unlocking it, I saw a text from an anonymous sender.

It said, [BEWARE].

And attached to that was a screenshot of a chat between Michael and Ashanti – their profile pictures made it clear.

I received the greatest shock of my life as I read Ashanti's text.

[Does that mean I'd be making use of Elena's medical license again tomorrow?]

Panic gripped me.

What did she mean she was making use of my medical license?

And again?

That meant this wasn't the first time she was doing this. Moon goddess help me, what was really going on?

With my pulse hammering loudly in my ears, I read the other texts that were from Michael.

[Just be very careful like before.]

[Alpha Horace is very observant, so you have to go when he's a bit tired from screening other doctors that'd be there.]

[Go by 1 pm.]

[You don't have to do much. His son has liver cancer. You just have to tell him that.]

[Then, you'll earn his trust and he'll pay you a fortune to treat his son.]

[I already tipped some guards at the White House that would allow you entry.]

[In fact, it'd be better if we met and discussed properly.]

[I'll come pick you up now.]

My stomach twisted. Was this really what I thought it was? Michael had been letting Ashanti use my medical license secretly?

Did he make me become a full housewife because of this?

A lump had already formed in my throat as I paced the room, nerves scattering wildly in my stomach.

Or was the text fake? Who could have sent it to me?

But racking my brains out wouldn't solve anything. Michael had to explain what in the moon goddess's name this was.

I stormed out of the room, my head feeling heavy.

"Michael?" I called angrily.

I rounded a corner and nearly plowed straight into Ashanti. She stood, her arms over her chest as she eyed me skeptically.

"What's the rush?" she asked.

"None of your damn business!" I yelled.

Big mistake!

It was like the mere effort of yelling ignited a deep pain in my womb. My hands went straight to my stomach.

I felt lightheaded and my knees buckled, making me quickly hold the wall for support.

Moon goddess, no! Not this time!

I knew this feeling too well. This was how every one of my miscarriages always started.

"Took long before it worked."

At first, I thought I'd misheard, but when I saw the look of venom in her eyes, a wave of realization hit me hard.

Shit! The salad!

She must have put something in it. How could she be so evil?

But before I could curse her out like I was dying to, I felt liquid trickling down from my core.

"Are you okay?" Michael's voice sounded behind me.