Chapter 5 — A Game That Changes Direction

Dusk had fallen when Elara arrived home. The sky still carried the gray remnants of the afternoon rain, and the air felt damp as she stepped through the front door. The house remained the same—spacious, cold, and silent—but there was something different in Elara’s steps this time. There was no more hesitation. No more empty hope that she used to bring home every day.

She placed her bag on the table, then walked toward the kitchen without taking off her shoes. On the long marble counter, several ingredients had already been neatly arranged. But Elara did not touch them. She only stood there for a moment, staring at everything with a flat expression before finally turning away.

A few hours earlier, she had contacted a professional chef. And now, all the dishes laid out on the dining table were the result of someone else’s work, not hers.

In the past, she would wake up earlier, prepare everything herself, making sure every taste suited Mike’s preference. But today, everything felt different. She still prepared dinner, but no longer with the same heart.

The aroma of food filled the room, warm and tempting. The long dining table was now covered with various dishes—warm cream soup, steak cooked to perfection, and even an elegant-looking dessert.

Elara stood at the end of the table, staring at everything without expression. Her fingers lightly touched the surface of a plate, then she took a deep breath.

Not long after, the sound of footsteps was heard moving away from the kitchen. The chef she had hired left politely after making sure everything was finished.

“Thank you. I’ll take care of the rest,” Elara said briefly.

The door closed, leaving Elara alone in the house that returned to silence.

But that silence did not last long.

The sound of the front door opening was heard again.

Elara did not need to turn to know who had arrived.

Light footsteps, followed by a sweet perfume that was far too familiar.

Vania.

“Elara,” the voice sounded soft, but clearly filled with mockery. “You’re still doing things like this?”

Elara remained standing facing the dining table, as if she had no interest in turning around.

“Doing what?” she asked flatly.

Vania walked closer, her heels clicking softly on the marble floor. She stopped at the side of the table, looking at the rows of dishes with a faint smile.

“Preparing dinner for Mike,” she said casually. “You really never learn, do you?”

Elara finally turned. Her gaze was calm, without emotion.

“Learn what?”

Vania’s smile widened. “That Mike will never eat your cooking.”

That sentence should have hurt.

But Elara only gave a small shrug.

“I don’t care,” she replied lightly. “If he doesn’t want to eat, just throw it away.”

That answer made the smile on Vania’s face fade slightly.

There was something different. Usually Elara would stay silent, or try to defend herself. But now… the woman looked far too relaxed.

And that was exactly what made Vania feel uncomfortable.

“You’ve really changed,” Vania murmured while crossing her arms over her chest.

Elara gave a faint smile. “Maybe.”

Before Vania could say anything else, the sound of a car engine was heard from outside.

Mike had come home.

Both women turned toward the door.

A few seconds later, the door opened and Mike entered with a tired face. His suit was still neat, but his eyes showed the exhaustion after a long day of work.

Before he could take another step, Vania had already moved first.

But her steps stopped.

Because someone was faster.

Elara.

Without hesitation, Elara stepped forward and immediately hugged Mike from the front. Her body pressed against the man, her arms wrapped around his waist as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

Mike froze instantly.

“Elara,” he said stiffly, slightly surprised.

He pushed her body away, his brows furrowed. “What are you doing?”

But Elara did not step back far.

Instead, she rose slightly on her toes and quickly kissed Mike’s cheek.

“You’re finally home, dear,” she said lightly.

This time, Mike was truly speechless.

Meanwhile, behind him, Vania stood with a face that instantly darkened.

Elara did not give anyone time to react longer. She casually took Mike’s work bag, then turned toward the dining room.

“Come on,” she said while glancing back. “You must be hungry.”

Her steps were calm, as if nothing had happened.

Mike still stood in place for a few seconds, trying to process what had just happened.

“Elara…” he murmured softly.

But Vania had already moved first.

She grabbed Mike’s arm and held onto it tightly.

“Mike, you don’t need to go,” she said softly, but clearly full of emphasis. “You won’t want to eat that.”

Mike glanced briefly at Vania, then toward Elara who was already sitting at the dining chair.

Before he could make a decision, Elara’s voice was heard again.

“If you don’t want to eat, that’s fine,” she said casually without turning around. “Just think of it as me entertaining a guest.”

The sentence sounded light, but carried something hard to explain.

Vania frowned.

But before she could say anything, Elara stood up again and walked closer.

Her hand reached out and immediately brushed Vania’s grip off Mike’s arm.

The movement was not rough, but firm enough to make Vania startled.

“Let go,” Elara said coldly.

Vania stared at her in disbelief. “How dare you—”

Elara cut her off with a sharp gaze.

“You shameless woman,” she said quietly, but clearly. “Are there no other men in this world? Why do you have to keep clinging to my husband?”

The room suddenly fell silent.

Vania’s face immediately flushed red.

“Mike!” she exclaimed angrily, seeking support. “Did you hear what she said?”

But Mike did not answer immediately.

The man looked even more exhausted.

He rubbed his temple briefly, then without saying anything, walked past them.

Straight toward the stairs.

“Elara, stop all of this,” he said shortly without turning around.

And within seconds, he had disappeared upstairs.

The bedroom door closed.

Silence filled the room again.

But this time, the atmosphere was far more tense.

Vania stood stiffly, her eyes still fixed on the stairs.

Slowly, she turned to look at Elara.

“See?” she said cynically. “He doesn’t even care about you.”

But Elara only smiled.

A smile that made the hair on the back of Vania’s neck stand.

“It’s fine,” Elara replied softly. “What matters is I’m still his wife.”

That sentence made Vania’s expression harden.

Without waiting any longer, Elara stepped forward. Her hand reached out and immediately grabbed Vania’s wrist.

“Now,” she said coldly, “get out of my house.”

Vania tried to pull her hand away. “Let go of me!”

But Elara’s grip did not budge.

Her gaze turned cold, far different from the woman who used to remain silent.

“I won’t repeat myself,” she said quietly. “Get out.”

For a few seconds, Vania could only stare at her.

Then she let out an annoyed snort and pulled her hand away roughly.

“You think you can keep everything?” she sneered.

Elara did not answer.

She only opened the door wide.

Her stance was clear.

Vania gritted her teeth, but eventually stepped out. But before she truly left, she turned once more.

Her gaze was full of hatred.

“This game isn’t over, Elara.”

The door closed.

Elara stood still for a moment, her hand still holding the doorknob.

Slowly, she let out a breath. Then she turned around.

The dining table full of dishes was still untouched.

She walked closer, pulled a chair, then sat alone at the end of the table.

There was no sound except the ticking of the clock on the wall.

Elara picked up a spoon and tasted a bit of the soup in front of her.

It tasted perfect.

But somehow, bland.

She gave a small smile.

“The game has just begun,” she whispered softly.

And this time, she would no longer be a woman who waited to be hurt.

She would be the one who decides how everything ends.