Chapter 6

Ava's POV

Standing before me was the housekeeper, Mrs. Rose.

“It’s you…Luna Ava” She said in amazement.

Relief loosened something in my chest.

“Hi, Rose,” I said, managing a thin smile.

“Alpha Victor and Jasper aren’t home yet,” she said quickly. “Would you like to freshen up? Or should I prepare something to eat?”

I shook my head. “No thanks. I’ve already eaten.” My gaze drifted toward the dark hallway that led to the bedrooms. “When does Victor usually get home?”

“It varies,” she said. “But Jasper goes to bed around ten, so I’d expect them back soon.”

It was a few minutes past nine right now. That meant they would be back in roughly an hour.

“I’ll just wait here,” I told her softly. “You go ahead with whatever you were doing.”

Rose hesitated, her scent tinged with unease and sympathy, before nodding and retreating down the corridor.

Silence settled. I stepped farther inside. The interior decor of the house looked different. Everything had softened into cream and pale gold.

Even the walls had changed. I stopped before the main hall.

The yellow sunflower painting which was my favorite was gone.

In its place hung a new canvas: two intertwined flowers, pale and fragile, their stems curling around each other.

They were twin flowers, a species I recognized very well. Growing up, Laura used to have a smaller similar canvas on the wall of her room.

My lips curved slowly. This was definitely her doing.

I studied the painting a moment longer, my wolf watching through my eyes with cool detachment.

Then I turned away, my expression calm.

I waited on the sofa until the moon slid past the tall windows and shadows stretched long across the marble floor. Several hours passed but Victor never came home.

I picked my phone and tried dailing his line, it was off.

My wolf let out a low, humorless huff in my chest. He’s not coming back tonight. Not to this villa.

Fine. I rose in one smooth motion. I hadn’t returned here to sit like a discarded omega waiting for scraps of attention. I had come to have him sign the divorce papers and then take what was mine and leave.

Since it appeared he won’t be coming home tonight, I headed upstairs to do the latter.

The moment I reached the master bedroom doorway, my steps stopped.

My gaze snapped to the nightstand where my wedding photo had stood for years, a photo of Victor and me beneath silver light, our foreheads touching, his hand wrapped around mine.

It wasn't there. In it's place, there was a different frame.

A photo of Victor, Jasper and Laura. All three of them smiling, their bodies angled together like a family.

A happy family.

For a heartbeat I couldn’t move. My wolf recoiled as if struck. I looked around.

Women’s clothes spilled from the wardrobe, including silk dresses, lace and even soft sweaters. Cosmetics lined the vanity in neat rows. Jewelry boxes, hairbrushes threaded with pale strands that weren’t mine.

Nothing here carried my scent anymore…Nothing.

This was unbelievable.

My fists clenched until my nails bit deep into my palms, the sharp pain the only thing anchoring me to the present instead of the nightmare clawing up my throat.

They had set me up.

Five years ago they had carved my life open and fed me to prison bars and silver chains, just long enough for Laura to slide into my place. To take my home, my mate and my son.

She took everything.

And Victor…

He might have never truly loved me.

But this? This was erasure. This was betrayal so complete it stripped bone.

A snarl tore loose in my chest. Before I could think, I strode forward, grabbed the frame and hurled it to the floor.

Glass exploded across marble. The smiling faces shattered. I ground my heel down, crushing the image, shards biting into the sole of my shoe.

Victor’s face split. Laura’s eyes cracked. The illusion of family splintered under my weight. My wolf surged, savage satisfaction flashing through her.

I left the master bedroom without another glance.

Room after room I searched for my things. I searched the guest suites, closets, cabinets, but didn't find any of my belongings.

It was as if I had never lived here at all. As if Ava Smith had been deleted from the villa.

My pulse hammered, fury coiling tighter with every empty drawer.

Where had they put my things? Were they thrown out? Burned?

I turned toward the back corridor, my jaw set. The storage room would be next—

“Luna Ava?”

Rose’s voice stopped me just as I was about to go into the storage. She stood at the hall entrance, her hands clasped, her eyes full of sympathy.

“Are you looking for your belongings?”

My throat felt lined with ash. “Yeah.”

There was a pause. Then, gently, she said, “They’re in the attic.”

The word hit me like an insult. I stared at her. “The attic?”

She nodded.

The attic was where unused furniture gathered dust. Where broken objects were shoved out of sight. Where a pack hid things it no longer valued but hadn’t yet discarded.

So that was what I had become to Victor?.

I forced a tight smile at Rose. “Thank you.”

The words tasted brittle. I turned and climbed the narrow staircase to the attic.

Each step creaked beneath my weight, dust motes drifting in the air, carrying the stale scent of abandonment.

I reached the door and opened it.

My things lay in a dim heap beneath the slanted roof. They were all buried under a thick, undisturbed layer of dust.

They must have shoved it up here five years ago after I went to prison.

My heart didn’t break. It had already gone numb long ago.

But my anger rose. I dropped to my knees and began rummaging through the pile, searching for a very important item.

Then I found it.