Chapter 3

Chiara’s POV

“I’m so glad you’re finally here, Chiara,” Noemi called out from the dining room as I walked downstairs after waking up.

To my surprise, Lorenzo was already home, seated beside Ginevra, both of them laughing quietly at something he had said.

They looked like a family.

More like one than I had ever been with him.

“Chiara, come sit,” Noemi gestured to the chair across from Lorenzo.

I forced a smile, swallowing the tight knot in my throat, and took my seat. I couldn’t bring myself to look directly at Lorenzo or Ginevra—shame and pain surged through me after what I had witnessed in his office.

As I settled in, my eyes caught the small bandage on Ginevra’s neck—right where Lorenzo’s mouth had been. Her fingers brushed it casually, a slow, smug smile playing on her lips, as if she wanted me to notice. As if she wanted to remind me of what they had done together, right under my roof.

I couldn’t look away.

The sting of betrayal burned deeper.

“Are you all right, Chiara?” Noemi’s voice pulled me back.

“Fine,” I replied quickly, forcing my gaze down to my untouched plate.

The food looked rich and warm—fresh bread, olives, eggs—but my appetite had vanished the moment I saw her sitting beside him.

Halfway through breakfast, Lorenzo finally glanced at me. His stare was distant, indifferent. No greeting. No acknowledgment. No trace of what we once shared—or what I thought we did.

To him, I was invisible.

And the truth settled painfully in my chest: he had already replaced me.

Later that morning, I retreated to my office, hoping work would quiet my thoughts. But as I reviewed the day’s responsibilities, confusion crept in.

My task list was… lighter.

Much lighter.

Frowning, I went in search of Cora, the gamma who had stood by me for years.

“Cora,” I called when I spotted her in the corridor.

She turned immediately. “Yes, Luna?”

“I noticed my workload is… reduced,” I said carefully. “Have some of my duties been reassigned?”

She scratched the back of her head, an awkward smile forming. “Isn’t it nice to have a little less to do? You’ve carried so much for years. Maybe this is the Alpha’s way of easing your burden.”

“Cora,” I pressed, my chest tightening. “How long has this been happening?”

She hesitated, eyes dropping to the floor before finally meeting mine.

“The Alpha has… reassigned many of your Luna duties to Ginevra. It’s been happening over the past month.”

The words hit me like ice.

“Since last month?” I whispered.

She nodded. “I’m sorry, Luna. I didn’t think it was my place to tell you.”

My fists clenched, trembling with anger and hurt as the realization sank in.

He wasn’t just pushing me away as his wife.

He was erasing me as Luna.

“Thank you, Cora,” I said quietly. “I appreciate your honesty.”

I turned sharply on my heel and marched straight toward Lorenzo’s office, my head pounding as fury burned through me.

He hadn’t just dismissed me.

He was taking everything from me.

And I was done staying silent.

When I reached Lorenzo’s office, Ginevra was already there, standing outside the door like a sentry—as if she had the right to guard it. She straightened the moment she saw me, her lips curling into a smug, knowing smile.

“I’m sorry, Luna,” she said smoothly, stepping in front of me, “but Lorenzo is busy right now.”

“I am still the Luna of this pack,” I said firmly, my voice dropping into a warning hiss. “And you will obey me.”

My eyes burned into hers. If Lorenzo wouldn’t intervene, I could have her thrown into the dungeon without a second thought.

“Step aside, Ginevra.”

For a brief moment, she hesitated. Then my authority won.

With a mocking shrug, she stepped aside, watching me with a smirk as I opened the door and walked in.

Lorenzo barely looked up from the documents spread across his desk.

“What do you need, Chiara?”

The casual dismissal in his tone twisted my stomach, but I held my ground.

“Why did you reassign my Luna duties to Ginevra?” I demanded, my voice sharp.

He had already crossed one unforgivable line with his infidelity. Now he was touching the one thing I would not tolerate.

He looked up slowly, removed his glasses, and leaned back in his chair.

“It’s for your own good, Chiara,” he said coolly. “You’ve been overworking yourself. Now you’ll have more time to focus on yourself.”

“Focus on myself?” I repeated bitterly. “Is that what you think I want?”

His expression didn’t change. My pain meant nothing to him.

“It’s done,” he said flatly. “You can rest now. Find something else to occupy yourself.”

I scoffed, disbelief burning through me.

He hadn’t even asked.

He had taken the one thing that gave me purpose—the role that tied me to the pack—and stripped it away without hesitation. Reduced me to a spectator in my own life.

And soon… what would I have left, when everything that was mine was being handed to Ginevra?

“You didn’t even ask me,” I snapped. “You just handed it to her. As if I meant nothing.”

“It’s for the best,” he repeated coldly, already turning back to his paperwork. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have other matters to attend to.”

“This isn’t right,” I said, my voice shaking. “I am the Luna.”

“Leave,” he said curtly. “I’m busy.”

That was it.

I turned without another word and walked out, the truth settling heavily in my chest.

I had no place here.

Not as his wife.

Not anymore as Luna.

I went back to my room and locked the door behind me. The moment it clicked shut, everything collapsed.

I slid down to the floor, tears spilling freely, anger and pain tearing through me in waves.

I had given him everything—my heart, my loyalty, my life.

And he discarded it all without a second thought.

I loved him.

So deeply.

And this was the price of loving him too much.

I should have known. I should have prepared myself for this. But I hoped. I prayed—clung to the foolish belief that one day he would acknowledge me. Choose me. Love me.

Instead, because of Ginevra, he was giving her everything that was mine—himself, my position, my honor, my dignity as Luna of the pack.

A sudden wave of nausea hit me.

I clapped a hand over my mouth and staggered into the bathroom, gripping the marble sink as I tried to steady my breathing.

My stomach churned violently.

I barely made it to the toilet before I threw up—mostly water and the cornetto I had eaten earlier. I slumped onto the cold tile floor, wiping tears from my face as the sickness lingered, my hand instinctively clutching my abdomen.

It made no sense.

Why now?

Another wave hit, stronger this time. I leaned over the toilet again, vomiting until my body trembled, my head spinning, my limbs heavy with a sickness I couldn’t explain.

As I rubbed my temple and pressed my palm against my stomach, a thought crept into my mind—one I didn’t want to entertain.

No.

It can’t be…

A chill ran down my spine.

I didn’t wait.

I packed quickly, shoving my belongings into a duffel bag with shaking hands.

This pack.

This house.

This place—

It was no longer my home.

With the bag slung over my shoulder, I slipped out quietly and ran.

Leaving behind everything that had once been my life.