#Chapter 85: Housemaid
Abby

I’m in the kitchen organizing my thoughts, sketching out a m ental roadmap for tonight’s three-course

extravaganza as I mumble under my breath.

“Sauvignon Blanc with the salmon… Hmm… Maybe I should prepare cappuccinos with the torte for

dessert…”

Just then, the door swings open, and in walks Karl, bags of groceries in hand. Gianna, his ever-present

secretary, trails closely behind him.

My heart does a little dance at the sight of Karl, a knee-jerk reaction I’ve never been able to fully quell.

Even with my wolf being asleep, the presence he creates when he walks into a room always makes her

lurch in my mind, as though she can always sense him in her sleep.

In a way, it’s frustrating. I want to yell at my wolf for leaving me alone and then momentarily

reappearing every time the man who broke my heart walks into the room, but I know it won’t do any

good.

However, something else is on my mind right now. I can’t help but notice how well they seem to get

along, Gianna laughing at something Karl has just said. A pang of jealousy surges through me.

“Hey, Abby. Got everything you asked for,” Karl announces, setting the bags on the countertop.

I shake off the jealousy, reminding myself that Karl and I are just friends now. “Thank you, both of you.

This means a lot to me.”

“It’s nothing,” Karl replies, a softness in his eyes that makes my stomach churn with a mix of nostalgia

and longing. “Need anything else?”

I shake my head. “No. I’m good, thanks.” Then, I turn to Gianna, determined to be cordial. “How are

you doing, Gianna?”

“I’m fine,” she responds tersely, a frosty undertone to her voice. Then, shifting her attention to Karl, she

says, “Could I speak to you privately? We need to sort some things out before the dinner.”

a glance in my direction as if to say ‘I’ll

the way with a

feeling a strange knot tighten in my stomach. It’s not jealousy, not exactly,

something—something that unsettles me.

Elsie snorts with what sounds like outright disgust. “G ods,

back to the counter. “Let’s not focus on her, Elsie. We’ve

it has to be

record, you’ve got

your place, especially not

I insist, although her words make me feel unexpectedly warm. “Karl and I

have no

look that says she knows better, but she doesn’t push

the fresh salmon, vibrant

herbs.

for the ingredients, eager to transform them into something

kitchen is a lively mixture of scents and spices as

can you hand me the Herbes

“Sure thing, Abby.”

was still the Luna, I prepared this very meal for the Alphas from

A triumphant smile tugs at my lips. Tonight is a reminder that I

another servant walks in. “The

few more minutes,” I say, not taking my eyes

to declare it perfect, I realize that the crust isn’t quite

quite. It would be easier to just let it

Abby, the renowned chef, the one who always gets

reaching for a fresh piece of salmon. I’m about to season it

voices filtering from

on her face,

As if we’ve forgotten that our ex-Luna has turned into nothing

housemaid.”

can see the back of her head, her perfectly curled hair and tight

surges up my

housemaid? Really?

That’s it.

I remember that the wardrobe upstairs still

collection of silk and sequins. A

could you please watch the stove? Take the salmon off in five minutes and let

dinner is ready.”

ripping off my apron and dashing out of the kitchen

back steps two at a

gowns greets me as I slide open the wardrobe doors. My fingers hover

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