#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.”

my direction as if to say ‘I’ll be

room, Gianna leading the way with a sense of

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

something—something that unsettles me.

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

turn back to the counter. “Let’s not

prepare, and it

she says. “Though, for the record, you’ve got no reason

your place,

although her words make

have no interest in

gives me a look that says she knows better, but she doesn’t push it. Instead,

salmon, vibrant vegetables, and

herbs.

ingredients, eager

a lively mixture of scents and spices as I

can you hand me the Herbes

“Sure thing, Abby.”

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

at my lips. Tonight is a reminder that I haven’t

another servant walks

taking my eyes

as I’m about to declare it perfect, I realize that the crust isn’t quite what I

easier to just let it slide, to

the one who

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

voices filtering from the

face, trying so hard to impress

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

housemaid.”

recognize that voice: Gianna. I can see the back of her head, her perfectly curled hair and

surges up my neck and into my cheeks. A

housemaid? Really?

That’s it.

sudden clarity, I remember that the wardrobe upstairs still houses my former life—gowns

A cun

stove? Take the salmon off in five minutes and let Karl know

dinner is ready.”

but I’m already ripping off my apron

back steps two at a

greets me as I slide open the wardrobe doors.

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