All Chapters of The Rejected Obese Luna Returns For War: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

Danielle's POV"What were you doing here, Elias?" I pushed myself off his arms, my pulse still hammering from the room's incident—or maybe from something else entirely."You followed me, didn't you." I let my voice go hard, sharp enough to cut. I wanted to see him squirm. I wanted him scared of what I might have seen in his eyes, and scared of what I might have seen in mine."Ma'am, I'm so sorry. I couldn't—" He knelt, gently setting my feet back on the ground like I was something breakable. Like I mattered. Nobody sets me down like that. Nobody touched me like I wasn't already broken.I stared down at him and felt it again—that flicker of something different. Elias never looked at me the way the others did. Jackson looked at me like I was a problem to manage, a wife he'd inherited rather than chosen. Jacob looked at me like I was a debt he hadn't decided whether to collect, interest accruing every time our paths crossed. But Elias looked at me like I was already whole. Like there was

Danielle's POV"What is it this time," I said, stepping into the living room where four women, Jackson, and his mother sat wearing smirks they didn't bother to hide.All but Jackson and Vivienne.Beside Jackson's mother, Linda, sat a young man in his early twenties, holding a folder like it was a weapon he was waiting to use. "Take a seat, Miss Carmen."His voice was etched with something I couldn't name. Something that made the hair on my arms rise before he'd even said anything real.I sat. My heart began racing in a way it hadn't since I woke up in this body"According to the pack's inheritance possession law, at least four percent goes to the spouse of the deceased—"I looked at Linda's face. Amused. Delighted, even, at whatever was about to unfold."Twenty percent goes to the child of the deceased, and the rest goes wherever the deceased's will dictates."I kept my smile steady, kept my spine straight. I would not give this room the satisfaction of watching me crack.Jackson's he

Felicia's POV"How dare he." The words tore out of me as I swept the neatly arranged books off my shelf, watching them crash to the floor one after another.Blood boiling. Boiling in a way that made my claws ache beneath my skin, begging to be let out.The living room. The stares. The whispers. That bodyguard standing beside Danielle was nothing, he had ruined my perfectly orchestrated plan and my reputation.It hurt. It hurt so badly I could barely breathe through it.But I wasn't the only Carmen starving for David's fortune. I wasn't the only one with a reason to want Danielle gone.An idea sparked in my mind — evil, devilish, exactly how I liked them.A knock. Soft, hesitant. I didn't answer right away, just stood there catching my breath, and when I finally turned, the door was already easing open.The maid. Danielle's little shadow.Something about her face stopped me cold. Not fear. Not the usual nervous flinch the staff gave me. She was looking at me. Really looking, the way yo

Elias POV I felt terrible. Worse than terrible — something closer to rot, spreading slow and quiet under my ribs from the moment I told her the truth. I'd expected relief, the kind that comes from setting down something heavy you've been carrying too long. Instead, my chest ached like I'd swallowed a stone and it hadn't finished falling, still dropping through me even now, minutes later, with nowhere left to land. My heart wouldn't settle. It kept doing something I didn't have a name for — pounding, stumbling, catching on itself — a rhythm I'd never felt around anyone, let alone her. Not until tonight. Not until this exact hallway, this exact light, this exact version of Danielle standing three feet away from me like the floor might open beneath either of us at any moment. The way she'd reacted unsettled me more than anger would have. She was calm. Too calm. Nonchalant in a way that told me nothing was actually fine, that she was simply choosing not to let me see the crack yet —

Danielle's POVSure. Today, 3pm. Same special place.My phone buzzed in my hand, and I stared at Jacob's text longer than I needed to. Three words too casual for what they meant.The green truck. The same one Elias hit me with on the night of the accidentHow did Jacob know about it?The question wouldn't let go of me. Jacob wasn't supposed to know. Nobody was supposed to know. My thumb hovered over the screen as I read the text again, like staring at it long enough might change the words, might make them mean something less unsettling than they did.And then there was Uriah.He'd shown up out of nowhere, like he'd been waiting for the exact moment I let my guard down. No explanation. No warning. Just — there, watching me with that look people wear when they already know the ending of your story and are simply waiting for you to catch up. Something about him sat wrong in my chest, a low hum of instinct I'd learned not to ignore.I had answers to get. Not just for the people around me