CHAPTER 2

A day after I walked out of that house, leaving Harold and his bitch mistress in their elicit affair. The sting of Harold’s rejection still lingered within me, but the weight that had lifted from my chest was undeniable. 

I realized that I was finally free despite how the pain from his rejection still simmered just below the surface. And it was that kind of hurt that led me straight to my bestfriend’s place,  Wella, with a bottle of vodka in my hand and I was all ready to drown my sorrows with the only person in the world who would certainly understand what I was going through.

“He did fucking what?” Wella practically screeched as her eyes grew exaggeratingly wide. I could see the disbelief in her expression as I told her all about what I saw earlier. “I can’t believe that motherfucker was using you this whole time for his own gain?”

I quickly nodded while I felt the burn of embarrassment crept up my cheek. "Yep, I was too naive to realize that earlier, Harold had just used me like a pawn in his little game to prove himself worthy as the next Alpha of Clawstone pack. And now that he's got what he wanted, he thinks he can just threw me out of the picture like some of garbage."

“Urgh! That bastard,” Wella furiously spat as she continously paced back and forth in her living room, leaving me feeling dizzy watching her move. “I swear, if I ever see bullshit face of him, I swear to the moon goddess, i’m going to castrate him.”

Hearing my bestfriend, despite the anger coursing through me, simply brought a small smile on my face. “Well, I already gave him a good kick in the groin earlier,” I proudly said.

And Wella quickly cackled a loud laugh as she sat down beside me on the couch. “Now that’s my girl! But seriously, Elisse, you don’t deserve to be treated like that. You don’t deserve to be with that fucking asshole at all! You deserve someone better that would worship you like you’re his own world.”

For some reason, my eyes welled up hearing that from her while wondering if I would even be able to experience that at all, and before I knew it, the words came out from my mouth. 

“Tell me, wasn’t I good enough, Wella? What did I possibly do wrong? Where could I still be lacking? Harold said I was not enough to pleasure him or even satisfy him in bed. Wella, I tried to be everything for him. I tried to be the perfect Luna, the perfect wife, and it still wasn’t enough.”

Wella then pulled me into a tight hug as the tears finally fell off. “Oh no, Elisse, don’t think like that. You didn’t do anything wrong, Elisse. He’s just a scumbag who doesn’t know how to value someone as precious as you.”

After a few moments of silent cry against my bestfriend’s shoulder, I eventually decided to pull myself away while I wiped my face with the back of my hand. “I don’t want to cry over him anymore,” I said, my voice firmer now. “I want to prove him wrong, Wella. Help me, please. I want to show him that I’m so much more than what he thought.”

Suddenly, Wella’s forehead creased as she thought about what I asked her until her eyes lit up with mischief. “Oh? And how exactly do you plan on doing that?”

A wicked smile crept onto my face. “I want you to help me make an elicit list of naughty things to make myself the perfect bitch that Harold would die hard to have again.”

Wella blinked at me, clearly intrigued. “What?”

“You heard me, Wella” I said, grabbing the notepad from her coffee table. “Help me make a list of all the bitchy nauthy things that Harold thinks I’m not capable of doing. All the things that’ll make him wish he never let me go. I’ll prove to myself—and to him—that I’m more than just some useless Luna.”

Wella leaned in closer, eyes sparkling with excitement. “Are you trying to win him back?”

“Yes, and after I do, I’ll make him pay triple if not double of the pain he made me feel.”

“Alight, tell me more about it, Elisse. How do you plan on starting with this?”

I flipped open the notepad I saw from her coffee table and scribbled at the top: ELISSE’S NAUGHTY GOALS

“Okay, here’s what I’m thinking. First, I need you to escort me in visiting a shop that sells pleasure toys. I’ll buy all the toys, the lingerie, whatever catches my eye. Then, I’m going to watch porn—because, why the hell not? And use all those toys on me while filming myself. After that, I need to hook up with a random guy, maybe even have orgy if I’m feeling bold enough. I want to take a pole dance class too, maybe even become a stripper at a club for a night. Wear sexy lingerie, do a photo shoot wearing them or nothing at all—”

“Oh, my goddess!” Wella gasped, grabbing the pen from me. “This is fucking insane, Elisse! You’re bold but I love your kinks.”

We were both giggling like schoolgirls at the absurdity of it all, but the idea triggered something in me like some sort of spark of rebellion that I hadn’t felt in so long. Perhaps it was because Harold had underestimated me, and it pushed me to the point that I just didn’t want to continute underestimating myself.

“I we should start now!” Wella declared, jumping off the couch. “Wait right here.”

I watched as she dashed down the hallway, disappearing into her bedroom. When she came back, she was holding up a variety of lace and satin in bold, daring colors.

“Sexy lingerie!” she proclaimed, tossing a few pieces onto the couch beside me. “First item on the list: Done!”

“What the fuck? Why are you keeping these with you?” 

“I was planning to wear them for my second anniversary with daniel after he comes home from his deployment in Toronto. But you can have it, you needed it more now.”

I laughed, but before I could protest, she pushed the bundle into my arms. “C’mon, Elisse. Let’s see how you look on them, I’m excited.”

There was a moment of hesitation before I grabbed one of the lacy sets—a fiery red ensemble that I would never have dared to wear before—and headed to the bathroom to change. The fabric was soft against my skin, and as I looked at myself in the mirror, I barely recognized the woman staring back at me.

I wasn’t Harold’s Luna anymore. I was just the normal Elisse Andres and I looked damn and fucking hot in these laced lingerie.

When I walked back into the living room, Wella’s jaw dropped. “Oh. My. Goodness. You look amazing hot in that girl, no sugarcoating!” she exclaimed, grabbing her phone. “We have to take pictures. You need to show Harold what he’s missing.”

Fueled by the alcohol and the adrenaline of our plan, I didn’t hesitate. We posed and laughed, snapping photo after photo. Wella coached me through different poses—some sexy, some playful—and for the first time in a long time, I felt even more rebellious.

I even went on posing without anything on and doing some nasty poses as we both laugh with the outcome. 

As the night wore on, we grew bolder. “Send it to him,” Wella urged, holding up her phone. “Let your asshole husband regret losing you.”

In my drunken haze, i found it to be the perfect idea. 

Following that, I quickly grabbed my phone, selected the best photos, and sent them off without a second thought. Wella and I collapsed on the couch, right after, laughing hysterically, imagining the look on Harold’s face when he saw the photos.

“Serves him right,” I giggled, pouring myself another drink. “He’s going to be kicking himself by now since he won’t have a piece of me looking this fucking hot.”

We continued drinking and joking until we both passed out on the couch, a blur of laughter and lingerie-fueled revenge.

THE NEXT MORNING, the harsh light of reality hit me square in the face as I groggily reached for my phone. My head felt heavy, and my mouth tasted like sandpaper. My eyes squinted at the screen, blinking several times to clear my blurry vision.

And then I fucking saw it.

Horror quickly rained down my morning fucked up face when I saw that the photos I had meant to send to Harold had been sent to my husband’s most trusted Beta instead—Dominic Costales.

“Holy fucking shit,” I gasped, sitting up so fast I nearly knocked over the empty vodka bottle on the table. “Wella, damn it! wake up!”

She stirred beside me, groaning as she rubbed her eyes. “What the hell, Elisse? What are you screaming for this early?”

“I fucking accidentally sent the photos to Dominic!” I shrieked, holding up my phone. “Not Harold!”

Wella’s eyes widened, and for a moment, we just stared at each other in stunned silence.

And then, we both burst out laughing nervously.

“Oh goddess, I don’t know if that’s even sounds better! But fucking shit, Elisse!” Wella howled, clutching her stomach. “Can you imagine the look on Dominic’s face?”

I groaned, burying my face in my hands. “No, no, no! This is a disaster.”

But even as I said the words, I couldn’t stop the smile from creeping onto my lips despite not knowing what would come after this outrageously reckless disaster. Until I received a message from Dominic, who seemed to have finally saw the photos with his message:

‘The lingerie looks good. Even more good if I show it to Alpha Harold.’