Freya’s POV
The evening air felt cool against my skin as I stepped outside to take Johnny’s call about the new app SF AI Solutions was developing.
"We’ve identified so issues with the neural network’s response ti," Johnny explained through the phone. "I’ve sent you the diagnostic reports."
I paced along the garden path, discussing technical solutions and implentation strategies, my mind fully engaged for the first ti all day. Thirty minutes passed in what felt like monts before we wrapped up the call.
When I returned to the living room, Isabella looked up from her tablet with a slight frown creasing her young forehead. "Mom, you’ve been taking so many calls lately. You’re on the phone every night for ages. You never used to do that before..."
The housekeeper, Mrs. Collins, glanced between us with poorly concealed curiosity. It was true; I’d rarely spent ti on personal calls before. My days had been consud by pack responsibilities and caring for Isabella.
"Just handling so matters," I replied casually, keeping my voice neutral. "I need to go upstairs and work on sothing."
Isabella’s small "Oh..." followed as I climbed the stairs.
In the privacy of Isabella’s bedroom—where I’d taken to spending most of my ti—I opened my laptop and began processing the file package Johnny had sent. The code was complex but elegant, a puzzle waiting to be solved. I lost myself in the work, barely noticing when Isabella returned from her bath and peered over my shoulder.
Over the past few years, I’d never completely abandoned my expertise in data engineering. During rare monts of freedom, I’d design programs and occasionally shared basic coding concepts with Isabella when she was just three or four. She usually fell asleep mid-explanation, her small body curled against mine.
Tonight, Isabella watched silently as my fingers flew across the keyboard. Though she couldn’t understand the complexity of what I was doing, sothing seed to register in her expression.
"Auntie Aurora does stuff like this too," she murmured before wandering off to bed.
Her innocent observation felt like a dagger between my ribs. Of course Aurora would showcase her technical brilliance to my daughter. Another area where she could outshine .
I worked until my eyes burned, finally closing my laptop after 2 AM. Only then did I notice that Silvano hadn’t co looking for . He hadn’t called or texted to ask where I was sleeping. Perhaps he preferred our growing distance—less contact ant fewer reminders of our failing bond.
Selene whimpered softly within . *We deserve better than this half-life, this pretense.*
The next morning, I slept later than usual, not bothering to prepare breakfast as I once would have. When I finally woke, Isabella had already left the bedroom. I found her in the kitchen with Silvano, both of them eating silently.
"Dad, Mom’s still sleeping," I heard Isabella say as I approached.
"Mmm," was Silvano’s only response, his tone revealing nothing.
We barely exchanged glances during breakfast, and he left without saying goodbye. The mate bond between us stretched thin and fraying, but neither of us acknowledged it.
That evening, I finished work promptly and returned ho to find Isabella already waiting in the car, eager for our weekend at the hot springs resort. Silvano was nowhere to be seen.
After twenty minutes, Isabella’s excitent turned to impatience. "Dad’s taking forever," she complained, fidgeting with her seatbelt.
I remained calm, pretending to read my book while Selene paced restlessly within . The house phone rang, and monts later, Mrs. Collins appeared at the car window.
"Mr. Moretti says he has urgent business to attend to. He asks that you and Miss Isabella proceed to the resort without him. He’ll join you later."
I nodded, unsurprised. "Understood."
Throughout the evening at the resort, Isabella called Silvano repeatedly, growing increasingly upset when he didn’t answer. As midnight approached with no sign of him, I maintained my composure.
"He probably has pack business to handle," I offered, stroking Isabella’s hair. "Sothing he couldn’t step away from."
The disappointnt in her eyes mirrored what I’d felt countless tis before. But unlike my daughter, I no longer expected anything different.
The next morning, I woke to an empty bed. Isabella had vanished. After searching the resort and questioning the staff, I discovered she’d left early, accompanied by one of the pack guards.
"Miss Isabella said she was bored, ma’am," the resort manager explained apologetically. "She arranged for transportation elsewhere."
I understood imdiately. Silvano had contacted her—but not . She’d slipped away to et him and undoubtedly Aurora, not wanting to interfere or insist on coming along. The realization stung, but I refused to let it ruin my rare solitude.
Rain pattered against the windows as I settled into the private hot spring, steam rising around . The warmth seeped into my bones as I opened my tablet to review so code. This place held so many mories—Silvano formally asking to be his Luna, our honeymoon, family celebrations—but today it offered sothing different: freedom.
By Sunday afternoon, with the weekend drawing to a close, I prepared to return ho alone. My phone rang—Luna Victoria’s na flashing on the screen.
"Freya, I called Silvano this morning and told him to pick you up from the resort tonight. Has he contacted you?"
The lie ca easily. "Yes, he has."
"Good," she said, sounding relieved. "I’ll see you both soon then."
I waited until 9 PM, but Silvano never arrived. Finally accepting he wouldn’t co, I arranged for a resort driver to take ho. The drive was long, and I drifted into an uneasy sleep until my phone jarred awake.
"Elena?" I answered groggily.
"That fucking bitch!" Elena’s voice exploded through the speaker.
I startled fully awake. "What?"
"Sorry, not you—I’m talking about a scene I just witnessed," she clarified quickly. "I’m at that charity gala tonight, and guess who showed up? Aurora! So woman confronted her, calling her a howrecker and accusing her of stealing her fiancé. She dumped a full glass of red wine all over Aurora’s dress! The woman’s from a prominent family, so it got ugly fast."
My heart accelerated slightly. "And?"
"The worst part—or best, depending on how you see it—Silvano appeared out of nowhere! This is a high-profile event with celebrities, Freya, being livestread everywhere. And your husband marched in like so knight in shining armor to rescue Aurora!"
Elena sent the livestream video, and I watched with strange detachnt as the scene unfolded. The audio was poor, drowned out by music and chatter, but the visuals were clear enough: a woman confronting Aurora, their heated exchange, the splash of red wine. Then Silvano appearing, removing his jacket to cover Aurora before lifting her into his arms and carrying her away.
The comnts section was already filling with speculation:
[OMG, is that THE Silvano Moretti? He’s even hotter in person!]
[No one told the reclusive tech genius looked like THAT]
[Wait, so that woman caught Silvano Moretti’s girlfriend cheating?]
[Aurora Howlthorne - 25 years old with a PhD from a top university, race car driver AND adventurer... is she even human?]
[They look perfect together! Did you see how he looked at her?]
I closed the video, a cold numbness spreading through . Luna Victoria had asked Silvano to pick up from the resort, but he’d prioritized Aurora instead. He hadn’t even bothered to call.
By the ti I arrived ho at 11 PM, exhaustion had replaced any anger or hurt I might have felt. I showered chanically, crawled into bed, and fell into dreamless sleep, Selene curled protectively around my heart.
Reviews
All reviews (0)