Chapter 3

Chiara's POV

A FEW DAYS LATER

(Chiara Pushing Silvia — Experts Agree, Not Proper Decorum for a Luna!)

The ironic headline burned my eyes. I tossed the newspaper aside, left the living room, and walked into the kitchen to make myself more coffee. It was definitely a two-cup kind of day.

Every newspaper was buzzing with news of Luciano De Luca’s search for the mysterious Doctor B. Luciano, supposedly in his determined efforts to locate the doctor, had made a public announcement.

And beneath the headline about Luciano’s search were several smaller articles—each one focused on me and the humiliating incident at the charity gala.

The main article replayed the entire evening in painstaking detail, complete with so-called “experts” offering their unsolicited opinions.

“She has always been a disappointment as a Luna!” the article declared.

“Now that Silvia Romano is divorced once again, Luciano De Luca’s choice is obvious. He should leave Chiara and reunite with Silvia!”

Just as I began pouring my coffee, the phone mounted on the kitchen wall started to ring. I set the pot down and crossed the room, lifting the receiver from its cradle. The long, coiled cord stretched between the handset and the base as I brought it to my ear.

“Hello?” I said.

“Chiara? You sound miserable. Don’t tell me you’re reading those cursed newspapers again?!”

The voice belonged to my best friend, Caterina. A true friend, she had known me long before my marriage to the pack’s Alfa King.

She had been encouraging me to divorce him since the second week of my marriage.

“Remind me again,” Caterina snapped, “why you aren’t divorcing Luciano De Luca? You gave up everything to become the Alfa King’s homemaker—and look how he repays you!”

She continued without pause. “He defends Silvia Romano over you. He’s even hunting down Doctor B for her! Meanwhile, your name is being dragged through the mud, and he hasn’t said a single word in your defense!”

“Luciano doesn’t like speaking to the press,” I replied weakly, already knowing how hollow the excuse sounded.

Especially since he had spoken to the press freely about his search for Doctor B. He could have said something—anything—kind about me.

But he hadn’t.

“I don’t care what he likes,” Caterina said sharply. “I care about you, Chiara. And ever since you entered this marriage, you’ve changed. You’ve completely lost the person you used to be.”

I couldn’t deny it. I’d given up my career and most of my sense of self. Being the perfect, submissive wife was a difficult act to maintain when the real me was far bolder.

“I love him, Caterina. I can’t just switch off those feelings. You know he saved me.”

Caterina sighed, long-suffering. “Well, well… Think about it. Chiara, the hospital will always welcome your return.”

After hanging up with Caterina, I resolved to talk to Luciano De Luca once more. We had much to discuss about our marriage, about Silvia, about the baby growing inside me.

Luna, especially, encouraged a discussion. He will listen. He is your mate…

I wasn’t so sure.

Our marriage had never truly been perfect, and now it was worse than ever. Yet it still deserved a fighting chance.

Checking the calendar hanging beside the phone, I realized it was Thursday. Luciano only worked the mornings on Thursdays, usually arriving home just after lunch.

I shouldn’t have to wait long to speak to him.

At least, that was what I thought.

But Luciano didn’t unlock the front door until 9 o’clock at night.

It was evening now.

And he wasn’t alone.

Silvia clung to him. Her arm was slung over Luciano’s shoulder and his around her waist, his hand firmly resting on her hip.

She stumbled, as if she couldn’t walk straight. When she saw me standing in the foyer, she pressed even closer to Luciano.

His attention seemed entirely fixed on Silvia, as if I didn’t exist.

“Most of the bedrooms are upstairs,” he said gently. “Do you think you’ll manage?”

“Only if you help me…” she replied in a weak voice.

“Luciano?” I called, making my presence known.

This wasn’t the first time Luciano had brought Silvia into our home. She knew exactly where the bedrooms were and how to find them herself. She shouldn’t need his help with that.

He should have a minute to talk to me about our marriage and our future.

Gathering my courage, I pressed forward, determined to save what we had. “I want to talk to you—”

“Don’t just stand there, Chiara,” Luciano said, glancing at me. “Arrange a room for Silvia. She’ll need toiletries and a set of towels. Her things should be arriving shortly.”

“Her… things?”

“Yes,” Luciano said. “Starting today, Silvia will live in our house.”

“I’m so sorry, Chiara,” Silvia said, turning her face toward Luciano, as if hiding her embarrassment. “I’m always disturbing you and Luciano. But I swear, there’s nothing happening between us. Our relationship is innocent and pure.”

I frowned at her words and the obvious falseness of her apology.

Luciano seemed to fall for it, however. “When you pushed Silvia at the charity event, you hurt her ankle. Her family is now refusing to help, so it falls on you, Chiara. This is your fault, and your responsibility.”

He scolded me with an angry tone, making me feel like a useless, petulant child.

Was he still angry with me for not apologizing to Silvia last time?

Luciano helped Silvia remove her coat and held it out for me.

Around us, a few maids—Giulia and Francesca—had appeared in the foyer to assist where they could. Luciano did not command them; he held the coat out for me as a courtesy to Silvia.

“I hope you can forgive me, Chiara,” Silvia said weakly. “I don’t mean to intrude into your home…”

Around me, the maids whispered.

“Silvia is so generous and kind…”

“Chiara still hasn’t hung up her coat…”

“Chiara still hasn’t apologized for pushing Silvia…”

Not wanting the situation to escalate, I accepted the coat and hung it up. Then I ducked past Luciano and Silvia to the stairs to prepare a room for her. I had just finished placing towels and toiletries when Luciano and Silvia finally entered the room, Luciano patiently helping her up one step at a time.

After helping her sit on the edge of the mattress, Luciano looked around, relief softening his eyes.

“You should be comfortable here, Silvia.”

To me, he said, “Chiara, meet me in my study.”

Nodding, I walked out. He stayed behind a moment, then followed me.

In his study, we stood in front of his large mahogany desk. Papers were neatly tucked away, pens in the holder, everything in its place. Not a single item out of order.

“Now,” he said. “What did you want to talk about?”

I avoided his gaze, trying to summon the courage that had faltered in Silvia’s presence. Thinking of the baby gave me strength. At the very least, I needed to tell Luciano.

I looked up, meeting his gaze.

I stilled.

Before, even during the hardest parts of our marriage, Luciano had a patience and warmth in his eyes. Dimmer at times, yes, but always lingering somewhere deep in his gaze.

Now… that warmth was entirely gone.

“I want to say…” I began.

“Whatever it is, say it,” Luciano replied.

He looked at me with the casual indifference one might give a stranger—not his wife.

Words poured out before I could stop them.

“—I want a divorce.”

I said it firmly.

“…What?!”

Luciano’s eyes widened in shock.