Chapter 3

Eyra’s POV

My steps came to a halt in front of a staircase. I had long since buried everything up there—a place I’d deliberately chosen to store all my memories of the past, so that I’d be reluctant to look back again.

A few boxes were still tucked away there. Dave never came into this room. He never went anywhere other than his office. So, no matter how many secrets I kept here, he'd never know. He never cared anyway.

I unlocked a large wooden box with a key. A stack of photo albums, slightly dusty, came into view. I reached for them gently, staring at them for a long time before finally turning the pages one by one.

The first page showed a little girl holding a trophy. Her brown hair was neatly styled with a crown on top. Her smile was radiant as she accepted her victory and the proud applause.

Several pages were still about that little girl. By the time I reached the last few pages, she had grown into a stunning and brilliant teenager, standing on the runway in a gown designed by one of the most famous designers. The next page showed her holding another trophy.

Another album caught my attention, far more than the previous one. That’s where her career really took off. Contract offers, runway shows, massive campaigns—her name was on the rise. She had become one of the industry's most sought-after supermodels who had to choose among several companies offering exclusive contracts.

Among all those offers, only one company caught her attention. Not because it was the biggest. Nor was it because they promised her the number-one spot, but rather because of one foolish mistake that actually became the reason she decided to let go of her dreams.

The craziest fairy tale ever told—love.

That smile eventually disappeared. Especially after she married a well-known businessman in the modeling industry. She retired early and hid herself from the glare of the spotlights and camera flashes.

She was me.

I don’t regret my decision. With or without Dave’s love, shouldn’t a wife devote her entire life to her family? Besides, Dave said I’d soon become his “luna” after the wedding, though in the end, it turned out to be nothing more than a false promise to lure me into this marriage.

One photo from the album made me freeze. My smile instantly faded.

Everyone knows Elara Smith. A top model, a beta's daughter, the pride of the pack, and the darling of their alpha—Alpha Dave.

Three years ago, she disappeared without a trace. Dave looked utterly devastated.

Before that, I could only watch him from afar because whenever Elara was with him, it felt as though the world belonged only to them. Not once did Dave ever look at me, even though Elara and I were with the same agency—The Crown—his modeling agency.

If anyone thinks I retired early because of Dave... they wouldn't be entirely wrong.

“Eyra!” That booming voice snapped me out of my reverie, which had drifted back to the past. I quickly closed the photo album and put it back in the box before locking it securely.

I hurried down the stairs, only to stumble right in front of Dave, who was already standing at the bottom, waiting for me.

I clutched my stomach, making sure my pup was still okay in there, and at the same time, hoping Dave would show even a little concern and help me up. If not as a husband, then at least as a fellow human being with a shred of empathy. But that never happened.

How foolish of me to keep hoping for that from him.

“What were you doing up there?” he asked coldly. “Are you hiding something?”

As if you care?

“Just checking a few things I’m going to take,” I replied curtly. “Why are you looking for me?”

He picked up a folder and tossed it toward me. “What’s this supposed to mean?” he asked.

I frowned. I crouched down slowly, despite the pain in my knee. I opened the folder and examined its contents, which came as quite a surprise to me.

“What the hell is this?” I muttered.

“You’re the one who should be explaining to me how that application form ended up at the company. Elara is just getting her career back on track there, and you’re trying to ruined her efforts?”

“What?” I asked, taken aback, then, without realizing it, let out a bitter laugh. “These are from years ago, Dave.”

“Look at the date. Do you think I’m blind?”

“Dave, I—”

“Enough, Eyra. We’re still in the waiting period for our divorce, so don’t cause any trouble.” He said it in a cold but sharp tone before turning and walking away, leaving me with a question that would never be answered.

Dave was right. The date was from three days ago. But I had never sent anything at all—neither a letter nor an email. And this photo… Dave probably forgot that it was taken four or five years ago, before I decided to retire from modeling.

The retirement wasn’t without reason—it was because I’d never landed a project worthy of me, one that could make a name for me. All the big contracts, runway shows, and top campaigns always went to Elara. And surprisingly, when she disappeared, Dave said that I was his fated mate and asked me to marry him.

I kept that folder in my suitcase. Even though I'd never know who was responsible for that sabotage, it no longer matters. Dave will continue to believe I’m the culprit, and no matter how long it takes, I’ll never have a chance to return to the world that made me famous—unless I make it happen on my own.

The roar of a sports car caught my attention. For a moment, I froze, checking my phone to see if perhaps the man I contacted before had grown too impatient and decided to pick me up right then and there. But there was no message from him.

A sudden knock sounded from the door. Still not finished packing, I got up and opened the door to find a woman standing before me.

That woman… how could I have forgotten someone who had stolen every camera's attention, every spotlight, every runway, and every major campaign that should have been mine at the time?

It was her, Elara Smith.

She walked calmly into the mansion, passing me by, followed by several people carrying her suitcases and belongings, which they placed in front of my bedroom door.

Seeing me frozen in place, she approached. She looked me up and down.

“I hope I don’t have to explain anymore why I’m here,” she said, then turned to the servants standing by, ready to follow her orders. She took out her phone, tapped the screen, and held it to her ear.

“Babe, I’m already at the Pack Mansion. Which room will be mine?” She was silent for a moment, then the corner of her lips curled into a smug smile. “Okay, I understand.”

She turned to me and said, “Dave said you’ve already agreed. So, that room is ours now.”

Hearing her words, my heart stopped.

That room...

The room Dave had never even stepped into throughout our three years of marriage. And now... he had agreed to stay there and share it with Elara?