Chapter 9

Elena

In my room, I stare at myself in the mirror. How much longer can I keep up this act?

I change into comfortable clothes, leggings and an oversized sweater and return to find the table set. Three plates. Like we're a happy little family.

Mira is already eating sauce on her face. "Auntie Elena! Dom's Uncle pasta is so good!"

I sit. The food does smell incredible. Dominic was always a good cook; he just never cooked for me.

"So," Dominic says, serving me. "How was work?"

"Busy. I had a complicated case."

"You're always so busy." Vivian smiles at me. "Dom was just telling me how proud he is of your work at the clinic."

Was he? In three years, he's visited my clinic twice.

"That's nice," I say neutrally.

After dinner, Dominic insists on doing dishes. I escape to the balcony with a glass of wine.

The buzzling of the Seattle city was so beautiful to witness. Somewhere out there is Damien, his Nightshade pack, is the life I left behind to marry an Alpha who never wanted me.

"Elena?"

I don't turn. I know his footsteps by now.

Dominic joins me on the balcony. "You've been distant lately."

"Have I?"

"You can talk to me, you know. About whatever's bothering you."

I laugh at his words. I can't help it. The sound is bitter, foreign coming from my throat.

"What's funny?"

"Nothing. Everything." I take a sip of wine. "Dominic, do you know what today is?"

He frowns, thinking. "Thursday?"

"It's the anniversary of the day we met. Seven years ago. Damien brought you home from Alpha training, and you gave me a book on medicinal herbs because he'd mentioned I was interested in healing."

His face goes blank. He doesn't remember.

"You were so kind that day," I continued. "So thoughtful. I was sixteen and thought I'd met a prince from a fairy tale." I finally looked at him. "When did that change? When did you decide I wasn't worth remembering?"

"Elena?"

"It's okay. I'm not angry." And I'm not. I'm just... tired. "I'm just wondering when you realized you couldn't love me. Was it before the ceremony? Or after?"

"I do care about you."

"That's not what I asked."

He's quiet for a long moment. Then: "I'm sorry."

"For what, specifically?"

"For not being what you needed. For not being able to..." He trails off.

"To love me?"

"To be the mate you deserved."

It's the closest he's ever come to honesty.

"Thank you," I say. "For finally saying it out loud."

I leave him on the balcony and go to my room. I didn’t bother to cry at all because I'm past tears now.

Instead, I text Sage: Everything ready for the 31st?

Her response came as swift as a light: Ready to blow his world apart. Are you sure about this?

I've never been more sure of anything.

The next morning, I woke up to a loud chaos.

Mira is crying. Vivian is shouting. And there's a crash that sounds like breaking glass.

I throw on a robe and run out to find my living room destroyed.

Again.

Throw pillows shredded. Vase broken. And worst of all, the painting on my wall, the one I specifically told Mira not to touch, has a huge tear through it.

"I'm sorry!" Mira wails. "I didn't mean to!"

Vivian is trying to calm her, but there's something in her eyes. I don’t know if she did this, or she let Mira do it.

"Elena, I'm so sorry." Vivian's performance is Oscar-worthy. "She was playing and…"

"Hey Cyndy," I say calmly to a maid of mine. "Please call the Ashford estate. Tell them what's happened."

"Elena, no!" Vivian's mask slips. "It was an accident."

"Was it?" I look at the destruction. "Funny how these accidents keep happening."

"You can't call the Ashford estate. They’ll…" Vivian stops, realizing what she's revealing.

"They'll what? Punish you for letting your daughter destroy property?" I smile sweetly. "But Vivian, you said to yourself that she's just a child. Surely they will understand."

Twenty minutes later, a gaurd arrives from the estate.

"Mrs. Ashford." He looks at the mess, his expression grim. "Luna Catherine requests that Mrs. Vivian and her daughter return to the estate immediately."

"Bu?"

"Immediately, Mrs. Vivian."

I watch them pack. Mira is still crying. Vivian throws me looks that could kill.

"This isn't over," she hisses as she passes me.

"I know." I smile. "It's just beginning."

After they left, I checked the damages they’ve caused me. The painting is ruined, but that's okay.

It was a fake one anyway.

The real one is safe in Sage's office, being preserved for evidence.

Cyndy, my private maiden appears beside me. "Young madam, how did you know she would…"

"Because I know desperate people do desperate things." I head to my room. "I need to get ready for work."

But first, I take a photo of the destruction and send it to Dominic.

Your sister-in-law's daughter destroyed my painting. The one your grandfather gave me before he died. I thought you should know.

His response is immediate: I'll handle it. Please don't be upset.

I'm not upset. I'm keeping tabs on everything.

I don't explain what I'm documenting for. He'll find out soon enough.