Wesley used to mock her for setting up a business that he deemed unworthy of profit. He once said her business was a total waste of money and could be better run by monkeys.

"Monkeys? Hah!" If ever she had kept monkeys, she was sure they would be smarter than Delilah.

His words had stung, but over the years, they had only fueled her resolve to prove him wrong.

In truth, without Wesley's knowledge, Riana had quietly transferred ownership of the struggling fashion house entirely to herself. She was determined to turn it into a success-just one of many ventures he knew nothing about.

Another company, secretly established and strategically positioned, now had the potential to challenge his pride itself. She longed to see the look on his face when he realized she was not the foolish, naive woman he had always believed her to be.

"The Europe launch is up 14%," Tilda chirped. "Also, the quantum-thread prototype pinged from the Berlin lab. They say it can now change color based on the wearer's emotional state."

Riana smiled faintly. "Good. Maybe I'll wear one, and finally, my husband will understand how I feel. Can it shoot fires too?"

Tilda raised an eyebrow. "Ma'am, are you.being serious?"

Riana was joking-but toying with Tilda's literal mind was its own small amusement. "I'm emotionally down, but my work ethic is intact," she replied and playfully winked at Tilda.

"Now book me a private room for three at Sebastian Café."

Two hours after her busy schedule, she was about to send a message to Wesley about the location of their lunch, but was met with another disappointment.

Wesley: Something came up. Urgent business. Lunch is off.

Riana: Sure. I understand.

She wanted to smash her phone against the wall, but too many eyes were watching in the boardroom. She forced a smile and calmly invited her closest friends, Sasha and Carlita, to join her instead.

They met at Sebastian Café, a posh rooftop restaurant where the enchanted slimming salads could cost more than small cars and the sparkling water judged you for not liking its exquisite taste.

Riana sipped her espresso and let the warmth flood her chest.

"I cried last night," she said, staring at her reflection in the spoon. Always gorgeous at every angle of the reflection.

"Oh, honey," Sasha said. "Your sadness should be illegal. Want me to drain someone dry?" A Vampire that could walk in daylight she was.

Carlita reached for her hand. "What happened? I know a new curse that could drive someone mad-completely undetectable."

Sasha nodded at Carlita. An unlikely alliance between a Vampire and a Witch was the talk in the town. Carlita was well-known, born with unlimited wealth coming from her Witch ancestors.

Riana opened her mouth to explain how her daughter now preferred Delilah-but a familiar laugh cut through the restaurant's murmur.

Sasha's eyes widened as she whispered behind her glass, "Don't look."

When someone says Don't look, you always look. Isn't that obvious?

There. Across the room. Across the patio, at a corner table, surrounded by orchids and good lighting...

Wesley. Willa. And Delilah.

Laughing. Happy.

Delilah's hand rested possessively on Wesley's arm, her smile radiant. Willa gazed up at her as if she'd hung the moon. And Wesley-her cold, ruthless husband-was looking at Delilah with a softness he had never shown Riana. Not once in eight years.

Sasha leaned in, her voice a low hiss, "So, he cancelled for that b*tch?"

"Seems so," Carlita added, twisting the knife. "He canceled lunch for that?"

Willa, wearing sunglasses too big for her face, sipped orange juice from a crystal flute. Delilah whispered something in Wesley's ear, and he smiled-a real, unguarded smile-as if they were living inside a romance novel.

And Riana?

She watched from the other side of the terrace like a fashion-forward ghost.

"Oh hell no," Carlita growled. "I will throw this nine-hundred-dollar salad. I swear."

But Riana only stared.

Then, softly, she laughed.

A single, cold sound that made both her friends turn in concern.

Because of course. Of course, her husband would forget her birthday, skip their lunch, and show up here-with their daughter and his mistress-at the very restaurant where she was licking her wounds.

"The Moon Goddess must truly despise me," Riana whispered her thoughts.

"Should I go over there?" Carlita asked, already reaching into her bag. "I brought my petty pouch. It has cursed glitter and a mirror that tells nothing but lies."

"No," Riana said, finishing her espresso in one bitter sip. "Let them have their little fantasy."

Sasha blinked. "Are you okay?"

"No," Riana said calmly. "But I will be."

She stood, brushed her coat off, and took one last look at the happy trio across the terrace. Once, she had foolishly dreamed of being part of such a scene with Wesley and Willa, but reality had proven it was nothing more than a delusion. Though it pained her, at least she had awakened before it was too late.

"Sasha, Carlita," she said, her voice flat.

"Yes, my queen?" Sasha replied cautiously, watching her friend like one might watch a beautiful chandelier about to fall.

"Let's go. I have more important decisions to share with you."

***

"Are you serious? You're really divorcing that scumbag?" Sasha shrieked excitedly. The girls had retreated to the privacy of Carlita's luxurious rooftop greenhouse-their safe haven.

"Keep your voice down, Sasha," Riana reminded, rubbing her ear. "I know you're thrilled, but yes. I'm divorcing Wesley."

"It's about time! He never deserved you! Certainly not after you turned down someone as perfect as Raph-"

"Don't mention that," Riana tightened her grip on her glass as those hurt eyes flashed in her mind. She thought she had moved on. "The past is the past. I've paid the price for my choices. I'm not doing this for anyone else-just myself."

"Sweetie, are you really okay?" Carlita asked gently. Unlike Sasha, who was buzzing with excitement at her friend's impending freedom, Carlita understood the depth of Riana's struggle.

Though Riana often called it a political marriage, Carlita knew she had stayed not only out of duty and love for her child-but because, for a time, she had truly loved Wesley.

Riana saw the concern in her eyes and forced a smile, though her own eyes glistened.

"Yes, I've made up my mind." She paused, lowering her head. "My only regret is that I don't yet have the means to take Willa with me."

"The Winters pack is too influential. Both families would fight me, and Willa." Her voice broke. "I'm not even sure she would choose to come with me."

"I'll hire the best lawyer in town for you, Riana."Carlita was already reaching for her phone, but Riana shook her head, not wanting her help. Not yet.

"She told me yesterday...she prefers Delilah as her mother." At this, the tears finally fell. Sasha and Carlita immediately embraced her.

"You should've told us sooner!" Sasha held her shoulders tightly. "I would've drained those two traitors dry!"

"Oh, darling," Carlita softly caressed her back. "Willa is too young to understand her true heritage-or the sacrifices you've made."

Riana wept freely in her friends' arms, releasing years of silent heartache.

That evening, Riana returned to the mansion. She had hoped to see her daughter, to talk properly, but it seemed they had enjoyed their day out without her-excluding her, ignoring her calls. The familiar sting of disappointment settled heavily in her chest.

She mechanically packed her things, ignoring the housekeeper's pitying gaze. Most of the luggage she'd brought yesterday remained unopened; more than half was gifts for Willa. It seemed her daughter wouldn't care for them now. After all, nothing could compare to what Delilah offered.

Then, weary but resolved, she entered Wesley's home office. She had always disliked this room.

Too rigid. Smelling of pine and Alpha male arrogance. The leather chair barely sat in, shelves lined with books she was sure he'd never read, and-the thing she hated most-a large oil painting of Wesley himself, dressed in a severe military-style jacket, looking every bit the conquering general. It made her want to gag.

She knew where he kept the documents. He was a creature of habit-predictable.

Top drawer. Left side. In an unlocked box.

"There you are," she whispered, pulling out the divorce papers. The document was pristine, folded neatly, waiting for her signature.

His signature was inked cleanly on the bottom right. Neat, and emotionless.

Hers? Still blank, awaiting to be signed in the last eight years.

"You thought I'd never sign," she murmured, pen hovering as she thought of Willa. The pain of leaving Willa behind was almost unbearable.

After a long moment, she sighed. "Maybe one day she'll return to me."

Her eyes moved back to the paper.

"Well, surprise a**hole," she muttered angrily, signing her name with a flourish. "Choke on it."

She slid the paper back into the envelope, smiling faintly at the thought of Wesley's shock when he discovered who she really was.

"Mrs. Leah, please give this to Wesley when he returns." If he ever returns. Yet it no longer mattered to Riana.

She paused at the doorway.

Looked back one last time.

For years, Wesley had only given her five seconds of his attention every time, leaving her feeling silent and alone. He cared about nothing but his own pride-and occasionally, Willa.

Cold. Heartless.

But she had bigger plans now.

Seeing her driver waiting, she offered a tired smile. "To Mystic Falls, Jerry. And you're fired-as Wesley's driver. You work for me now. I'll double your salary."

"Yes, Ms. Regalia. It would be an honor." He bowed slightly, taking her light luggage.

The car pulled away, and Riana didn't look back.

An hour later, Wesley's luxury sedan glided up the driveway. The night was deep, and he assumed his wife was still out carousing with those eccentric friends of hers-the reclusive vampire and that witch he'd never approved of.

'Out partying and maxing out the credit card,' he thought with a smirk, thinking about Riana for a split second.

What kind of Luna preferred the company of night-walkers and spell-weavers over her own Pack? He silently prayed Willa hadn't inherited her mother's questionable tastes.

Willa clung to his sleeve, dragging her feet as she hopped out of the car. "Do we really have to go home, Daddy?" she pouted. "I want to stay with Aunt Delilah longer."

Delilah emerged from the car and crouched, taking Willa's hands gently in her own.

"We'll see each other again soon, sweetheart. For now, your mother is waiting for you." Her voice was honey-smooth. "She just wants time with you and your father. She'd be heartbroken if you didn't come home."

Wesley watched, pleased. Delilah treated Willa as her own-something he doubted Riana would ever be generous enough to do if the roles were reversed. No, Riana was likely waiting inside, poised for a fight. The thought alone was enough to put him on edge.

Yet tonight, something felt off. A prickle of unease traced his spine.

After instructing his driver to take Delilah to the luxury hotel he owned a few blocks away, Wesley led his daughter inside.

"Your mother's probably not home yet," he remarked, glancing around the overly silent foyer.

"Nope," Willa skipped ahead. "I didn't see her car."

He frowned slightly. Not worried-just curious. It was late.

His obedient wife usually waited up for him when she knew he was back in town. She'd always be there-even with that perfect smile and dead eyes. She always came to the door, offered wine, and asked about his flight like a loyal spouse from some old-school etiquette manual.

But tonight? Nothing.

Silence.

"Daddy, do we have to be home tonight? Can't we just stay at the hotel with Aunt Delilah?"

"Darling, if we don't come home tonight, your mother will insist on joining us tomorrow."

Willa wrinkled her nose. "What if Mommy tries to come with us tomorrow?"

"She won't." His voice was steel.

In all their years of marriage, Riana had learned her place. Patience, beauty, quiet devotion-his word always brought her back in line. "Your mother won't challenge me. I'm her Alpha."

Reassured, Willa's mood brightened. She skipped farther inside, calling for the housekeeper.

As he turned back toward the hallway, Mrs. Leah appeared like a retired ghost, her silver-streaked hair pinned neatly back, her posture so precise she could almost be mistaken for an automaton.

"Good evening, Alpha, Miss Willa. Let's get you cleaned up for the night."

Willa was fond of Mrs. Leah, who had often filled the void of loneliness when both her parents were absent. Most of the time, Willa listened to her, treating her with the trust of family.

Pausing her steps, Mrs. Leah turned to face Wesley.

"Alpha. Luna Riana left this for you." She held out a plain ivory envelope.

Wesley took it without interest, his attention already captured by a message from Beta David.

David: Luna Riana has quietly bought out that failing fashion label. Completely.

'With whose money?' he wondered with a smirk. 'Likely mine.'

"Where is she?" he asked without looking up.

Mrs. Leah whispered for Willa to go upstairs, then turned back with unusual hesitation. "She packed her things and returned to Mystic Town. She. didn't inform you, Alpha?"

"She left?" It was unlike Riana to leave the city without notice.

"Yes, Alpha."

He smirked and continued toward his room.

'Perhaps, she finally knows her place and gave way for Delilah to move in.'

'Wes, I sense something unusual,' Vars, his spirit wolf, voiced its concerns, but was ignored by Wesley.

As he walked up the stairs, he caught sight of Willa lingering on the landing, eavesdropping. No doubt disappointed that Riana hadn't stayed to help finish whatever trinket she was crafting for Delilah.

"Alpha." Mrs. Leah followed, her voice softening uncharacteristically. "Luna Riana didn't look well. She seemed. upset."

"Upset?" A dry, mocking smile touched his lips. She'd never shed a tear in all their years of marriage-as if perfectly content with their arrangement.

He'd assumed as long as she had money to spend, this political marriage would hold. Until he consolidated power. Until Willa was old enough to understand.

If not for that damned night eight years ago, he wouldn't still be bound to her.

Delilah was his true mate. The woman who should have been his Luna.

He had no doubt Riana had orchestrated that "accident". Out of fear that her half-sister would surpass her.

A calculated, greedy move from a woman who'd always been threatened by Delilah's grace.

Dismissing Mrs. Leah with a wave, he continued his way, the envelope still clutched in his hand.

As he passed Riana's door, nothing seemed out of place. Shopping bags lay on the floor, and dresses were laid across the bed. She'll be back, he thought.

Then his phone rang. Delilah's name flashed across the screen.

"Miss me already?" he answered lightly.

But Delilah's voice trembled. "Wesley, can you come? I'm scared. I think someone's watching my suite. It could be one of your Pack enemies."

Without another thought for the envelope or Riana's departure, Wesley turned and strode back out of the mansion. Some things were more important than that.

A ten-minute drive later, Wesley strode through the opulent lobby of the Moonlight Grand Hotel, his tie loose, adrenaline sharp in his veins. The thought of an enemy threatening his mate clouded his judgment, overriding any lingering unease from home.

The suite door opened an inch before he could use his keycard, then swung wide.

Delilah stood there, bathed in the soft glow of candlelight, wearing nothing but a robe the color of sin.

Candlelight flickered behind her. The suite smelled of jasmine and warm skin. The city lights glittered beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows, a silent audience to the scene.

"I heard something," she whispered, her voice breathy. "I thought someone was outside."

One hand rested on her chest, the silk robe parting just enough to reveal a tempting glimpse of what lay beneath.

He scanned the room, instincts on high alert, his gaze sharp. "Did you call security?"

She shook her head, her eyes dark and pleading. "I only wanted you."

That gave him pause.

Wanted. Not needed. Wanted.

It was a word that had never found a place in his eight years with Riana. Perhaps this was the pull of a fated bond-raw, undeniable, and utterly selfish.

Delilah stepped closer, her fingers tracing the line of his chest. "I'm sorry. I know you were probably putting Willa to bed, but I couldn't sleep. I kept thinking about you." She licked her lips. ".especially after that shower."

In the haze of heat and arrogance, he knew-she had heard nothing. No one had followed her.

The last thread of his control was shaking. He was, after all, still technically a married man. If Riana ever discovered this, the scandal would ripple through Ambrose City like a tidal wave.

But Delilah had always been bold.

She untied her robe.

Let it fall.

The scent of her desire enveloped him, clouding his senses. Reason was a feeble thing in the face of want-a flame too easily snuffed.

A heartbeat later, he lifted her into his arms and carried her straight to the bedroom.

In that moment, Wesley did not foresee the cost of this reckless choice-or how dearly he would one day pay for it.

Stepping into her old penthouse in Mystic Town, Riana's heart beat a little faster-not with anxiety, but with the quiet hum of homecoming.

"I'm.. home" she sighed with a weak smile hiding the hurt she felt.

The double doors swung open to reveal a sunlit sanctuary. Walls of cream and gold, plush carpets that swallowed sound, the faint scent of sandalwood candles lingering in

the air. Her fingers touched the walls gently while her heart beats in pain.

This had been their first home together before they'd moved to Ambrose-a nest she'd built with her own hands, dreaming of warmth and family for the child growing

inside her.

But Wesley had only ever seen walls. He'd been too lost mourning the mate he thought fate had stolen from him. He blamed her for his sorrow.

Seven years of marriage. Seven years trying to carve warmth into cold marble. Now, the penthouse stood like a museum of the life she'd failed to build-and the one she

was now reclaiming.

"No! I will not think about him. He is my past" She dropped her luggage and padded barefoot across the floor, twirling slowly as her mother's old lullaby escaped her lips. No trace of Wesley's cologne here. No dark leather or Alpha ego.

Just her books. Her scented candles. Her silence.

"Mystic Town," she whispered, pushing open the tall windows. A soft breeze lifted strands of her hair. "I'm truly at home."

She'd bought this place in secret-with Sasha's help. A shell company, a discreet sale Wesley never noticed. He hadn't cared enough to ask who'd purchased it; he was just

glad to be rid of it. Perhaps getting rid of any memory about her.

Exhaustion finally pulled her under. She slept deeply for the first time in months.

Six hours later, a sharp alarm tore through the darkness.

Riana fumbled for her phone, squinting at the screen. 3 AM in Mystic Falls. 7 AM in Amberose City. "Too early"

Then, her eyes opened wide. She recalled it was Willa's breakfast time.

Her thumb hovered over her daughter's contact. She'd set this alarm months ago-a reminder to call, no matter where in the world she was, no matter how short or cold the conversations had become. It was a thread, thin and fraying, but one she refused to let go.

Lately, Willa's replies had dwindled to one-word answers. Fine. Okay. Bye.

And after what she'd overheard. after the birthday night, the rejection, the way her daughter had looked at Delilah as if she hung the moon.

"What's the point?" With a quiet sigh, Riana deleted the alarm. Some threads weren't meant to be held forever. Some you had to let it snap.

In the darkness of a home that was finally hers again, she allowed herself one final tear. Then, she closed her eyes and chose to sleep a little longer.

The morning sun cast long, gentle shadows across her room. When the door clicked open from the outside, Riana's instincts flared. Who could it be?

With a flick of her wrist, a controlled arc of fire shot from her palm. A reflex from her self-defense act.

"Hey! Watch it! It's me!" Sasha sidestepped the flames with vampiric speed, her voice a mix of surprise and amusement. "You must be really tired not to be able to sense me"

Riana blinked, sitting up in bed. She'd returned in such a hurry she hadn't even had time to meet her friends yet. "What are you doing here?"

"Surprise, Wolf-Witch Queen," Sasha bounded onto the bed, pulling Riana into a hug before she could even pretend to be asleep. "Looks like your powers are sharper than

ever. The Winters pack is in for a shock! They're so busy fawning over Delilah's'pureblood' status they never recognized the real treasure right under their noses."

"I'm not their Luna anymore," Riana said, rising. "I signed the papers."

"You signed? And Wesley just. let you? That mangy dog didn't even try to fight for you?"

Her words made Riana laughed while she gave her friend a quick hug. "The divorce agreement was drafted right after we married,"

"What a dick! You were OK with that?"

Riana offered a bitter smile. "My signature is probably the one thing he's been waiting for all these years."

"Oh, Riana," Sasha pulled her into another embrace. "He's going to regret this. He lost a treasure."

"He doesn't matter anymore." Riana glanced at her phone. No messages from Willa. A flicker of pain crossed her eyes, but she buried it quickly. She turned the phone off,

determined to be present. "Hey, let's get some breakfast. Let's not talk about him"

***

(An hour later, still at home)

*

"Earth to Riana," Sasha teased, her amber eyes glinting playfully. "You've been staring at that sandwich for five minutes. What's on your mind? You should be celebrating! Blood?"

"Ew, no," Riana looked up, forcing a light laugh. "Just. planning for the next move. I have plans.. just thinking.. when, how.."

Sasha could read her like an open grimoire. "Riana, you're lying. What's going on with your little heir? Is her fluctuation still happening?"

Riana sighed, finally taking a bite. She could not hide things from Sasha, "Willa will stay with Wesley. For now. Until I get things in order here."

Sasha's voice softened. "Are you okay? No call from your pup today? You used to call her every morning."

"Not today."

"You're hiding something." Sasha got closer to whisper, "That tone in your voice, something is not quite right"

Leaning in, Riana lowered her voice. "I'm planning to attend the Moon Gala."

"No!" Sasha's jaw dropped. "Shut up! This weekend? Oh, you're going to cause chaos."

A wicked grin spread across her face, making Riana laugh genuinely. "All those years of secret training-this performance will be worth it. I hope Carlita can make it on

time."

"I'm excited and nervous. But at least Delilah won't be there this time."

Sasha rolled her eyes. "Don't even play modest. If it weren't for the. unexpected circumstances back then, you would've been the shining new Queen of the Gala, not

that wannabe Delilah prancing around like her homewrecker mother's 'pureblood' line actually means something. She's never had to face real power like yours."

The Moon Gala wasn't just some stuffy party. It served as the grand prelude to the most magnificent festival in werewolf history - the Moon Gathering.

Occurring once every four years, the Moon Gathering was a spectacle of power-a night where alliances were forged in blood oaths and broken with fangs. The winner

gained significant influence, their voice carrying weight in supernatural society for years to come.

Eight years ago, it was supposed to be Riana's debut. Her powers were still stabilizing, but she was confident she would stun everyone. She wanted the packs to see who the true, worthy heir was.

But her unexpected pregnancy changed everything. For Willa's safety and stability, she had to postpone her plans indefinitely.

Riana shook her head, a new light in her eyes. "Enough about the past. I have something to show you."

"A new pair of shoes? New designer dress –"

"No, something better. Hold on"

Riana walked to the bookshelf, slid out a false panel to reveal a hidden safe, and retrieved a crystal vial pulsing with a soft, rose-gold light.

Sasha's eyes widened. "Is that-?"

Riana nodded and winked, "Thanks to Rowan and his R&D team, the latest breakthrough from my company,"

Pride threading her voice. Riana continued, "I'm calling it the Xena Formula. Named after my grandmother. She was the most powerful witch Mystic Town had ever seen. It took us four years and a dozen disasters to make it work. Almost.. blew up the whole lab"

"Does it. work?" Sasha leaned in, mesmerized.

"It neutralizes inherited magical suppression codes. Permanently. Sasha, I can finally access my full potential. We all can. Freely."

"Riana. have you unchained your own powers?" Sasha asked, her voice hushed with concern. "Are you sure this is.. the right thing to do?"

But it was met with a smile from Riana, "Of course. All of it. Unchained"

"That explains the surge I've been seeing in your aura lately. It's like. bottled lightning."

"Well, whatever glow you're seeing, it clearly wasn't enough for Wesley to see my worth," Riana said, a hint of old bitterness surfacing. "He always looked at me like I was impure. Not wolf enough. Not submissive enough. Not pureblooded like Delilah. What he never understood was that my potential was artificially suppressed-dampened by the magical inhibitors they forced on me to control my witch side."

"It held back everything: my wolf's strength, my speed. my light."

"Okay, so Delilah's a coconut-scented bitch, but you're a battle goddess in Louboutins," Sasha declared, squeezing Riana's hand. "And if you get thrown into

supernatural prison for breaking approximately seventy laws, I'm going with you. So will Carlita-I'll make sure of it."

Riana laughed, the sound genuine and bright. "Relax, Sasha. My company will only produce completely legal, carefully dosed vials."

"But mine here," she said, gazing at the shimmering liquid, "is mine."

"It's enough to finally claim what should have been mine all along. And that bitch Delilah is going to have to fight me for it."

Her voice hardened with resolve. "I am the rightful heir to the Regalia Pack, not her."

Glasses were raised-espresso for Riana, a crimson-filled flute for Sasha-in a toast to a future about to be rewritten.