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Chapter 8
The maid hesitated for a moment before responding, “Luna?. She’s perhaps occupled with work?”
Half a month ago, when Nora left with her luggage, this maid wasn’t present. She had only heard from the other servants that Luna had left the villa. Naturally, she assumed Nora had gone on a business trip.
But what’s taking her so long this time?
Arnold’s brow furrowed as mild irritation simmered within. He didn’t recall assigning her anything that required an extended trip. His thoughts paused midstream as an unsettling realization struck him.
He knew absolutely nothing about Nora’s whereabouts.
Where she went, what she did… he had never cared enough to ask. The agitation bubbling in his chest was unwelcome, and he tamped it down with practiced indifference.
“Help Alex change his clothes,” he instructed the maid curtly before retreating to his study.
As he shut the door behind him, a low, gravelly voice echoed in his mind.
“Arnold, you
can’t go on like this,” his wolf, Enzo, growled.
Arnold sat at his desk, unmoving, as Enzo continued, “Haven’t you noticed? The bond with Nora is already fading. You’ve been unfaithful to her, shut her out completely, and severed your connection to her. If you keep this up, you’ll lose her for good.”
Arnold’s reply was as cold as the air around him. “And? I don’t care. It’s the Moon Goddess’s mistake we’re mates in the first place. The sooner this bond disappears, the better.”
“You’ll regret this, egotist,” Enzo sighed, his voice fading into the recesses of Arnold’s mind.
The silence that followed was oppressive. Arnold stared at the papers strewn across his desk, an inexplicable frustration building within him. He tried to focus, but the emptiness of the house gnawed at him. Nora’s scent, once omnipresent–a fresh, natural aroma of lily of the valley and freesia… was entirely
gone.
That scent, warm and light as spring, had always calmed him in ways he could never admit. Now, not matter how he strained to catch even a hint of it, it was as if it had never existed.
A nameless anger surged in his chest. With a growl, he swept the documents off his desk, sending them scattering to the floor.
Grabbing his phone, he dialed.
Chapter B
“Hello? Linda…”
The next day:
Arnold found himself standing in the lobby of Silver Moon’s office building when he saw her.
Nora.
She seemed thinner than he remembered, her frame smaller, her posture lighter as if she carried some invisible burden. She was delivering some documents, likely a task she didn’t anticipate would bring her face–to–face with him.
For a brief moment, she froze, clearly caught off guard.
Arnold’s expression quickly hardened into indifference. Without a word, he brushed past her, his cold demeanor creating an invisible wall between them.
Inside, though, he couldn’t help but notice the change.
What happened to her?
In the past, Nora would have jumped into his arms, her face lighting up with joy. Later, when his indifference became too obvious to ignore, she had grown quieter, more reserved, but her eyes still held a flicker of hope.
But now?
She met his gaze briefly, her expression unreadable, before lowering her eyes. No excitement. No lingering warmth.
A faint discomfort bloomed in Arnold’s chest, one he resolutely chose to ignore. He stepped into the elevator and left without a backward glance.
Nora, watching his tall, composed figure disappear behind the closing elevator doors, could only think:
*Now that he’s back, perhaps the divorce can finally proceed.”
There was still a twinge of pain in her chest, but it was mingled with relief.
Later
Nora was at the data management office, knocking on the door to deliver her documents, when a familiar, cheerful voice called out.
“Nora! You’re finally back!”
Chapter 8
It was Evelyn, Arnold’s life assistant. A young, stylish woman. Evelyn was balancing two empty cups in her hands as she rushed toward Nora.
Before Nora could react, Evelyn shoved the cups into her hands with a pleading expression.
“Please, could you make two cups of evening primrose tea and bring them to Alpha’s office?” she begged. “He only likes the tea you make, and I’ve gotten so much flak since you left!”
Nora sighed but didn’t argue. Evelyn offered a hurried word of thanks and disappeared as quickly as she’d arrived.
Looking down at the cups, Nora felt an old weight settle in her chest.
Making evening primrose tea was no simple task. It required pristine mountain spring water, Misty Flowers, and Evening Primrose, among other ingredients. The process was painstaking, but the result was worth it–a crystal–clear silver brew with a mellow floral flavor that refreshed the mind.
Arnold loved it.
She had once gone to great lengths to perfect the recipe, even hiring a professional tea brewer to teach her. It was her way of understanding him better, of finding some small way to connect with him.
For a time, it worked.
Arnold had praised her tea, even requesting it both at home and in the office. At the time, she’d been overjoyed, believing it was a step toward earning a place in his heart.
But now, as she prepared the tea with practiced hands, a bitter realization settled over her.
It wasn’t her he valued. Just the tea.
And to her, Arnold’s attitude remained indifferent. Perhaps, in Arnold’s opinion, she was no different from a servant who made good tea.
Nora decided to do Evelyn this favor, and after she prepared the tea, she went to the floor where Arnold’s office was located.
She hadn’t gone in yet when she suddenly heard an ambiguous kissing sound coming from inside the
room.
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