Lahat ng Kabanata ng Drawing Her Fate: Luna's Redemption: Kabanata 11 - Kabanata 20

Alexandra’s POV (Lexy’s POV changed to Alexandra’s POV from this chapter onwards)I sat in the outdoor area of my favourite little café, waiting for my sister, Samantha. It wasn’t fancy, but it was cozy, with cushioned chairs you could sink into, the warm smell of fresh coffee drifting through the air, and the kind of food that always felt like comfort. The sky was clear blue, not a cloud in sight, and my mood, for once, seemed to match it.This past year hadn’t been easy, but Samantha—and Arabella, my closest friend from art school—had been my anchors. Between the two of them and my painting, I’d somehow managed to keep going when it felt like everything in my life had fallen apart.I spotted Samantha making her way toward me, gorgeous in a yellow sundress. She had that effortless grace I’d always admired. She leaned down to hug me tight before sliding into the chair opposite mine. “Hi, sis! How are you doing?”I grinned, unable to hold it in. “Guess what? My painting just sold for t

Alexandra’s POVI stormed across the parking lot, my heels hammering against the pavement like gunfire. Anger burned through me, a wildfire I couldn’t contain. My face was hot, my throat raw, my chest so tight it hurt to breathe. Embarrassed. Furious. Humiliated. Beyond words.I yanked open the car door and collapsed into the driver’s seat, slamming it shut hard enough to rattle the glass. My knuckles whitened around the steering wheel as I fought to keep from screaming.How dare he? How dare he even think, for a single second, that I was a hooker? The audacity—the smug, careless arrogance. Just because he’s handsome, just because women probably throw themselves at him, he thinks every girl must want him too? Bastard. Lustful, entitled bastard. And then not even the decency to apologize.Are all men like this? Do they only see skin, curves, and their own reflection in your eyes? Or am I cursed—cursed to attract only this kind of man? Leo… and now him. Different faces, same poison. I am

Alexandra's POV I woke at dawn, nerves and excitement buzzing through me as today was the day of my first exhibition. After a quick shower, I slipped into a suit the color of my eyes, emerald green, of course, designed by Arabella, and paired it with black heels. My hands trembled slightly as I left for the venue, my mind running through every worst-case scenario. But when I stepped into the gallery, relief washed over me. Everything was perfect—the warm lights highlighting each painting, soft classical music floating in the background, trays of wine and delicate finger foods, and my work displayed exactly as I had envisioned. Joe Lennox, the organizer, stood nearby, flanked by Arabella and my sister Samantha. My heart pounded like a war drum as I waited for the first guests. Anxiety clawed at my chest, and I downed a glass of champagne, whispering silent prayers that someone, anyone, would come. Then, people began to arrive. My breath caught. This was it. Success or failure would

Mirabel's POV Leo received a call, and I hissed to Dr. Reynolds, “Doc, either you confirm my pregnancy now and get handsomely paid for it, or I banish you.” He looked confused, stammering, “But, Luna… what if the Alpha discovers the lie?” “I’ll take care of it. Choose your side wisely because being rogue is terrible—I must warn you.” Leo walked back in just as the doctor forced a smile and announced, “Congratulations, Alpha. Luna’s test confirms her pregnancy. In two weeks, I can schedule her first scan.” Leo’s expression shifted—shock, sadness, joy, and then pure amazement—all in less than a minute. I clapped my hands, pretending to wipe away a fake tear. “Oh, honey, we’ll finally be parents! Leo, the doctor says I need to rest a lot and avoid stress.” Leo nodded and carried me out of the clinic as if I were made of glass. I absolutely loved it. For the next two days, he was warm, attentive, and utterly focused on me. I basked in the triumph. Until Tuesday night. It was our

Alexandra’s POV I arrived at my ballet class, my feet moving on autopilot, yet my mind was elsewhere. The complex was a three‑story building with a gym and various rooms for fitness programs. As I entered the building, I noticed a familiar figure at reception. Mirabel was standing there in a sports bra far too small—her breasts seemed ready to spill out—and leggings, holding a gym bag. I’d never seen her in the fitness centre before, and her heavy makeup didn’t suggest she was really into exercise. I slowed down; I did not want her to notice me. She left the reception area and moved toward the yoga room. My heart skipped a beat: this wasn’t just any yoga room, but the one where Coach Rob held private prenatal yoga classes. It hit me like a bomb. Mirabel was pregnant—with Leo’s pup. I remembered how Leo had teased me, saying he wanted a litter of pups, no fewer, and only with me. My cheeks had flushed then, but I loved the idea. And now Mirabel was carrying his pup. I thought I ha