Chapter 2
1252words
After leaving Silver Claw territory, I'd taken a job as a pastry chef at this high-end dessert shop. My reason was pathetically simple—Ethan loved desserts, especially the tiramisu from this place. I'd spent countless nights perfecting recipes, all to see that satisfied look on his face when he tasted my creations.
How fucking ridiculous.
"Selena, the colors on today's macarons are absolutely perfect." Marco, the shop owner, exclaimed. "Are you sure you want to quit? I really hate to see you go."
I nodded. "Yes, I need to leave this city."
"Could you stay just a few more days?" Marco pleaded. "At least give me time to find someone to replace you."
I hesitated. Father had said he needed a few days to arrange for someone to pick me up. After all, I'd been away from home for three years, and my sudden return required some preparation.
"Alright. One more week," I finally agreed.
Just then, the shop bell chimed. I glanced up through the kitchen's glass partition and saw that familiar face.
Ethan.
Since overhearing his words at the birthday party, I hadn't contacted him. Three days without calls or texts. And clearly, he hadn't bothered to reach out either.
What twisted the knife deeper was the woman beside him—Vivian. She'd barely returned to the country and was already with Ethan. Clearly, he couldn't wait to restart their "official relationship."
"I'll go attend to the customers," Marco said, heading out of the kitchen.
I ducked my head and focused on decorating the cake in my hands. Maybe they wouldn't notice me. Maybe they'd leave quickly.
"The desserts here are certainly excellent," I heard Vivian's voice, "but what about the quality of the service staff?"
I kept my head down, but sensed someone approaching the open kitchen window.
"Wait, that pastry chef looks familiar." Vivian's voice suddenly rose. "Isn't that your little girlfriend?"
I had no choice but to look up, meeting Vivian's scrutinizing gaze. She wore an exquisitely tailored silk dress, with a diamond necklace that caught the light with every movement.
Only then did Ethan notice me, his expression shifting from surprise to a frown. I caught the flash of disdain in his eyes—as if seeing me working in such a place embarrassed him.
"Selena?" His tone carried obvious displeasure. "What are you doing here?"
"Working." I answered curtly, continuing with my decoration.
"A pastry chef?" His voice dripped with contempt, as if it were the most degrading profession imaginable.
"Yes, for two years now," I said calmly. In fact, I'd been working here even while dating him. He'd never bothered to ask about my job, or shown any interest in my daily life.
"Why haven't you contacted me?" he suddenly demanded, his tone accusatory. "I've been waiting for your call."
I nearly laughed out loud. He was waiting for my call? After what he'd said?
"I've been busy." I continued with my work, not bothering to elaborate.
"How could this place employ such a low-class werewolf?" Vivian said loudly, ensuring other customers could hear. "Seems this shop's standards have really slipped."
I clenched my fists, nails digging into my palms. For three years, I'd hidden my identity, suppressed my nature, all to live an ordinary life. But now, being humiliated so publicly, I felt the wolf within me stirring.
Marco hurried over from behind the counter, a nervous smile plastered on his face. "Is there a problem, valued customers?"
"Your pastry chef was rude to me," Vivian said haughtily.
Marco glanced at Vivian, then at the diamond necklace and designer watch on her wrist, immediately recognizing a customer he couldn't afford to offend. He turned to me, apology in his eyes but firmness in his voice: "Selena, apologize to the customer."
I couldn't believe Marco was pressuring me too. But I understood—a small business owner couldn't afford to offend wealthy patrons.
"Vivian," Ethan said softly, "don't be like this."
For a moment, I thought he might defend me. His next words crushed that hope entirely.
"Don't stoop to her level. She doesn't understand proper etiquette. I don't like girls who make scenes, Selena. You should know that by now."
Doesn't understand etiquette? Making scenes? Me, the heir of the Moon Shadow pack, being lectured about etiquette by some Luna from Eastern Ridge? Being called dramatic by the man I'd loved for three years?
"Looks like your boyfriend knows you well," Vivian smiled triumphantly. "A low-class werewolf who doesn't understand her place. No wonder you're stuck making pastries in a dump like this."
She reached out to pat my cheek with that condescending gesture people use when soothing a pet.
My reaction was pure instinct. Before her hand could touch me, I grabbed her wrist.
In that moment, I uncontrollably released a trace of my true power. The Moon Shadow bloodline surged within me, and my eyes flashed silver.
Vivian's expression morphed from contempt to terror. She felt it—that crushing pressure from an ancient bloodline, that unmistakable Alpha aura.
"Please don't touch me," I said calmly, releasing her hand.
Vivian stumbled back, her face ashen. But she quickly recovered, convincing herself it was just her imagination.
"You dare touch me?" she shrieked. "Ethan, did you see that? She dared to disrespect me!"
Ethan glared at me. "Selena, you've gone too far. Apologize to Vivian. Now."
Marco looked at me nervously. "Selena, please apologize." His eyes pleaded: Don't put me in this position.
In that moment, I saw the world with perfect clarity. Ethan had never truly loved me. Marco saw me as nothing but a replaceable employee. In their eyes, I would forever be just an ordinary werewolf they could push around at will.
I picked up the freshly made tiramisu beside me—Ethan's favorite dessert—and under everyone's shocked gaze, I smashed it onto his expensive suit.
"We're done, Ethan," my voice rang through the store. "Thanks for showing me what true love isn't."
The other customers turned to stare. Ethan's face flushed crimson with rage and humiliation.
"Are you fucking insane?" he growled. "Do you have any idea how much this suit costs?"
"Is it worth more than the three years I wasted on you?" I shot back.
Vivian sneered. "Looks like your boyfriend's taste has finally improved."
"Ex-boyfriend," I corrected her. "And Vivian, if I were you, I'd be careful about where that promise ring ends up. He fed me the same bullshit."
With that, I stripped off my apron and tossed it onto the workbench.
"Marco, I quit," I told the stunned shop owner. "Sorry for putting you in a difficult position."
Walking out of the pastry shop, the night breeze cooled my burning cheeks. I felt an incredible lightness, as if a massive weight had been lifted from my shoulders.
Ethan's voice came from behind. "Selena! Stop right there!"
I didn't look back, just kept walking.
"Where the hell do you think you can go without me?" He caught up and grabbed my arm. "Don't be stupid. Without me, you're nothing!"
I shook off his hand and fixed him with an icy stare. "You're always so damn sure of yourself."
So confident I'd never leave him.
I turned and walked away, never looking back.
From behind, I heard Vivian's delicate voice: "Ethan, you've spoiled her too much. She actually dares to throw a tantrum at you."
I heard Ethan reply: "She needs to learn a hard lesson. She'll come crawling back, crying and begging like before."
