I looked down at the dish in front of me.

There wasn’t any seafood that I could see, but I knew immediately that it was my allergy acting up. My throat tightened, constricting with every breath.

I coughed hard, over and over, my chest rattling with each desperate gasp.

At first, Adrian ignored me. But as my coughing grew louder, he turned his head, irritation flashing in his eyes.

“For the love of the Moon, Clara,” he snapped. “Can you not sit still for once? Drink some water. Why can’t you do that by yourself?”

I shook my head, unable to form words. I tried to say it was my allergy, that something was wrong, but my throat closed further. My voice simply wouldn’t come.

Adrian frowned, leaning back in his chair. “Unbelievable. Always something with you.”

Marcus leaned back with a scowl, his voice loud enough for nearby tables to hear.

“She’s doing it again. Always putting on a performance. Honestly, Clara, you’ll fake anything for attention.”

My chest heaved, the coughing tearing at my lungs.

Tears blurred my sight. I raised a trembling hand toward my throat, but Adrian rolled his eyes.

“Don’t start this again,” he hissed. “Every time it’s Lyanna’s moment, you find some way to ruin it.”

Lyanna gasped softly, her hand covering her mouth. Her eyes widened with practiced concern.

“Oh dear, she doesn’t look well. Adrian, maybe we should take her to the hospital. Just in case?”

Marcus let out a sharp laugh. “Hospital? Don’t be ridiculous. She’s been pulling stunts like this for years. It’s pathetic.”

Adrian shook his head, his lip curling with disgust.

“Exactly. She’s jealous. That’s all this is. You can’t even let us celebrate Lyanna’s success without making it about yourself, can you, Clara?”

My chest burned with each cough, but his words hurt even worse. I tried to protest, to tell them I wasn’t pretending, but nothing came out.

Only a rasp of air.

Lyanna leaned forward, her tone dripping with false sweetness. “What if she’s really sick, though? We wouldn’t want to regret not helping her.”

Marcus sneered. “If she’s really sick, then it’s her own fault. Stop babying her. She thrives on this kind of pity.”

Lyanna sighed delicately, lowering her lashes as though burdened by compassion. “I only suggested it out of concern.”

My coughing grew harsher, louder, and soon nearby guests began to glance over. Their murmurs carried embarrassment like a sting.

Marcus groaned, shaking his head.

“Listen to her, coughing like she’s about to die. Always so dramatic. Can’t you stop, Clara? You’re humiliating us.”

Stop? How could I stop when my throat was closing, when each breath felt like it was cutting me open from the inside?

Adrian’s voice snapped through my haze of panic.

“Enough! I won’t let you ruin this dinner. You’ve had your fun, Clara.” He raised his hand and gestured sharply to a waiter. “Take her outside. She’s disturbing everyone.”

I froze, disbelief gripping me tighter than my swollen throat.

Take me outside? Abandon me here when I could barely breathe?

My lips parted, but no sound came. I was helpless.

The waiter hurried over and tugged me to my feet.

“This way, ma’am,” he muttered, irritation in his tone. As he dragged me toward the door, I heard Adrian’s voice one last time.

“She always pulls these stunts,” he said coldly. “Don’t waste your sympathy on her.”

The waiter pushed me out into the night air and let go of me like I was filth. His voice was low, but the disdain was clear. “What an actress. Trying to ruin a family dinner… pathetic.”

He left me there, discarded like trash.

I collapsed by the side of the building, my back pressed against the cold wall, coughing and crying at once. My chest burned, my breaths shallow and desperate.

Helplessness wrapped around me tighter than the pain.

I could still hear their laughter faintly through the restaurant’s walls. The clinking of glasses, the cheerful voices, the celebration that went on as if nothing had happened.

They looked more like a family with her than they ever did with me, even though I was the real family.

A bitter, broken laugh slipped out between coughs. My tears blurred the glow of the streetlights above me. As my lungs screamed for air, I could only feel regret.

Regret that I wasn’t enough. Regret that I tried so hard, only to be cast aside like nothing.

Perhaps this was the break I had been waiting for. The end to the suffering, the silence to all the noise. If death was what awaited me in this dark corner, then maybe…

At last, I could rest.

I woke up in a hospital, the white ceiling above me unfamiliar and glaring under the fluorescent lights.

My body felt heavy, my throat raw, as though I had been clawing for air for hours. A doctor stood beside me, checking my vitals with calm precision.

When he noticed my eyes flutter open, relief softened his expression.

“You’re awake,” he said gently. “You had a severe allergic reaction. You nearly died from respiratory failure. Fortunately, someone brought you here in time. Any later, and it would have been too late.”

The words sank into me like stones dropped into deep water. I swallowed, the ache in my throat sharp, and whispered hoarsely, “Who… who brought me here?”

He glanced at his notes before answering.

“They didn’t leave a name. They just said they saw you collapse outside and rushed you here. A passerby, it seems. A stranger.”

A stranger.

I forced a small smile and whispered my thanks, but inside, something broke.

Why had I expected it to be my family? Why had I hoped it was Adrian, rushing through the night to save me?

I should have known better.

My chest tightened as memories surfaced unbidden of the early days when Adrian courted me, when his voice was soft and filled with promises.

He had sung songs of love to me, painted visions of a future where we would build a family, raise children, and grow old in happiness. I thought we were meant for forever.

But now, looking back, it all felt like pretense.

Perhaps he had never really seen me at all. Maybe Lyanna had always been the shadow in his heart. After all, we shared similarities with some features a resemblance in our younger years.

Maybe every smile at the table, every night we shared the same bed, every dream I thought was ours had been borrowed from his longing for her.

And I, foolish enough, had assumed I was the one he loved.

The door creaked open, pulling me from my thoughts.

A man stepped into the room. His presence filled the space immediately. His smile was charming, his aura calm yet commanding.

There was something in the way he carried himself, something formidable, that reminded me of the Alphas I had lived beside.

He approached the bed slowly, his gaze steady. “You’re awake,” he said.

“You are…” A thought suddenly came to me. I tried to sit up, but my body protested. “You… were the one who helped me?”

He nodded once, casually, as if it had been nothing.

“Why did you help me?” I asked.

He looked at me, and his gaze seemed to hold something peculiar.

“I only did it because I pitied you. I was dining at the restaurant. I saw what happened.”

Shame burned my skin. I gave a self-deprecating smile, trying to hide how hollow I felt.

“It must have been disgraceful to see me like that… coughing, crying, being dragged out like a nuisance.”

He didn’t answer right away. His eyes studied me, quiet and calculating. Then his voice lowered, steady but piercing. “Do you want revenge?”

The question stunned me. I blinked, trying to make sense of it. “Revenge? What are you talking about?”

He leaned closer, his expression unwavering. “I took a fancy to you.”

My heart stumbled. I shook my head quickly. “No, you don’t understand. I’m married. I have a child.”

His lips curved faintly, though his eyes remained sharp.

“Married?” He gave a short laugh, quiet and dismissive. “Is that what you call it? Because what I saw wasn’t a wife. You looked more like a servant than anything else.”

The truth of his words cut deep. I wanted to deny it, but I couldn’t.

He was right.

That was exactly what I had become, an outsider in my own home, a shadow in my own family.

He straightened, his voice turning deliberate.

“I am looking for a Luna. Not in the traditional sense, but as a substitute. Someone to stand beside me, to pretend as my wife. In exchange, I will give you wealth, security, and most importantly, your worth back. No one will treat you like a shadow under my side.”

I stared at him, breath caught in my chest. His offer dangled in front of me like a poisoned fruit. It was dangerous, tempting, impossible to ignore.

“But,” he continued firmly, “you will have to leave your family behind. Your Alpha. Your child. Everything. So I ask you… are you willing?”

When I arrived home, the first thing I noticed was the mess.

Bags were scattered across the living room floor, clothes spilling from open drawers, shoes lined up as if waiting to march out the door.

Everyone was packing.

Jeremy spotted me first. He came rushing over, and for a moment, my heart lifted, thinking he would throw his arms around me.

Instead, he shoved a half-filled bag into my hands.

“Fold my clothes, Mama. And bring my toys too,” he ordered with childish authority, already turning back toward his pile of things.

I blinked, confused. “Why should I pack your toys and clothes?”

“Because I’m going on vacation!” He shouted over his shoulder, his voice brimming with excitement.

“Vacation?” I repeated, stunned.

Just then Adrian stepped out of our bedroom, his brow furrowed as soon as he saw me.

“Where have you been?”

“I… I was in the hospital,” I answered honestly, still gripping Jeremy’s bag.

His frown deepened. “Hospital? For what?”

Before I could explain, Marcus’s voice rang from the other room, sharp and cutting.

“Was it really worth it to run to the hospital for just a cough? Honestly, Clara, you embarrassed us at the restaurant last night, and now you’re playing pitiful again?”

My lips parted, but I couldn’t get a word out before another voice chimed in.

Lyanna stepped out of my room as if she belonged there, her dress perfectly pressed, her hair cascading like silk.

“Is everyone ready to go?” she asked brightly, then stopped short, her brows lifting in feigned surprise when her eyes landed on me. “Oh, Clara. I didn’t realize you were here.”

It was my house. My room she had just walked out of. Yet she looked at me as though I were the intruder.

Grinding my teeth behind a forced smile, I asked, “Where is everyone going?”

Jeremy darted to her side, clinging to her hand like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“We’re going on vacation with Aunt Lyanna!” He announced with pride.

This time, I asked louder, so they could all hear me. “Where exactly are you going?”

Adrian’s eyes narrowed. “Do you have to shout, Clara? If you want to ask something, say it properly.”

I held his gaze, refusing to lower my voice. “Then tell me what’s happening.”

Marcus emerged from the hall with a bag slung over his shoulder.

“We’re going on a trip with Lyanna,” he said curtly.

“Where?” I pressed.

He shot me a disdainful look. “Why do you need to know?”

Adrian sighed, clearly impatient. “Lyanna invited us on vacation. It’s her treat, a reward for her promotion. That’s where we’re going.”

“I’m coming too,” I said quickly, desperate not to be left behind again.

Lyanna bit her lip delicately, her expression apologetic.

“Oh, Clara… I’m so sorry, but the prize was only for four people.” She paused, as if thinking hard. “Unless… I could try asking my boss for another slot—”

Adrian cut her off at once, his voice firm. “No. Don’t. That would make you look bad. You don’t need to go out of your way for her.”

Then he turned to me, his eyes like steel.

“Clara, you’ll stay here. Since you can’t come, you can at least fulfill your duties while we’re away.”

Something inside me snapped.

“I want to come too,” I said again, louder this time.

Adrian’s expression darkened. “Enough. You will stay. Stop making this about you.”

With that, he tossed his bag at my feet. Marcus followed suit, dropping his own. Lyanna didn’t stop them, only lowered her eyes modestly as if she pitied me. Even Jeremy shoved his little backpack into my arms before running back to her side.

“Pack properly,” Adrian ordered coldly.

That afternoon, they left without a second glance. Their laughter trailed out the door as they walked to the car, chatting merrily about their trip.

No one said goodbye.

No one looked back.

The house fell silent, the emptiness pressing down on me like a weight.

And then I remembered the man who saved me. His words echoed in my mind, steady and sharp.

Do you want revenge?

Do you want Fame, wealth, and respect?

I thought of the years I had given to this family, of the woman I had become.

I am less than a wife, less a mother, more a servant.

I thought of the dinners where my seat was empty even when I sat at the table, of the countless times my voice was drowned out, dismissed, mocked.

I was tired.

Tired of being treated as less than nothing. Tired of being invisible. Tired of being useless.

I pulled out my phone. His number was still there, glowing on the screen, waiting. My thumb hovered for only a moment before I pressed call.

The line rang once, twice, and then his voice came through. “Clara.”

For a moment, I couldn’t breathe. My throat ached, my chest shook, but I forced the words out.

“I’m accepting your offer.”

There was a pause. Then, a low chuckle vibrated through the receiver. “Good.”

That night, I also packed my bags and whatever little belongings I have. I didn't look back, not even leaving a message.

I simply walked away leaving everything, leaving my past behind, going to the future where nobody will look down at me.

This time, they will be the one to bow down to me.