A Luna Reborn

Stella

A chill hangs in the bedroom air as I smooth the lace edge of my new red lingerie.

“Seeing the Alpha requires an advance reservation, and his calendar is completely full for the next ninety days.”

The detached voice of Vance’s secretary echoes in my head for the thousandth time. Pointing out that I am his legal wife made zero difference to her.

Work has kept him away for so long that we haven’t exchanged a single word in four weeks. Yet tonight is Christmas, the one evening every Alpha is expected to return home and celebrate with family.

I pause before the mirror for one final check, making sure every detail is flawless. Combing my fingers through my newly dyed, silky black locks, I admire the dark shade. Black is his absolute favorite, so I changed it to surprise him, pairing this crimson lingerie set I bought specifically for tonight with matching red lipstick.

The unmistakable weight of Vance's presence fills the room, and I spin around with a bright smile already curving my lips. It takes everything in me not to dash across the floor and throw myself into his arms.

His face gives nothing away. When his brown gaze locks onto mine, the familiar warmth I usually see is completely gone.

“What’s the matter?” I ask, stepping closer to him. His gaze travels from my head to my toes, yet he says nothing about my outfit or the new hair color.

“Stella.” The sharp edge in his tone makes me flinch and step back.

“I want a divorce.”

Three Years Later

“Evening, Stella.”

I offer Nadine, my restaurant manager, a warm smile. “Hi. How is the floor looking tonight?” Stepping out from behind the reception desk, I come to stand at her side.

“Looks like another packed house.”

My gaze sweeps across the bustling dining room. “It definitely is.”

A rush of pure pride warms my chest. Back when I first opened the doors, barely a soul knew this place existed. Today, thanks to my hard work alongside my team, it ranks among the most sought-after dining spots in the entire capital.

The entrance door swings open as my best friend Tessa arrives alongside her friend Roxanne, her grin growing wider the second she spots me by the counter. Approaching the desk, she gives Nadine a polite nod of greeting.

“Just look at you,” Tessa says, practically glowing with enthusiasm, which draws a genuine grin from me. “If only he could see you right now.” She doesn't need to drop a name for me to know she means Vance.

Three full years have passed since our marriage ended. In the beginning, losing my position as Luna left me completely adrift and unsure of my next step, yet here I am today, working as the head chef and owner of my own establishment. This life wasn't what I originally planned, yet it brings me real happiness.

“Seeing you thrive like this would drive him out of his mind,” Tessa adds. She isn't wrong about that. Knowing his former wife is running a kitchen and waiting on guests would be too much for his pride to stomach. Still, the moment he blindsided me with those divorce papers, he forfeited any say in how I live my life.

Just then, the front door opens again to reveal Sylvia. The instant her eyes land on me behind the counter, a look of mock pity washes over her features. Knowing full well how much she relishes seeing me in this position, I simply put on my most polished hospitality smile.

“Hello, Sylvia. How have you been?”

Right behind her walks her husband, his attention entirely glued to his phone screen.

“Doing well, dear,” she replies. Raising a hand to fuss with her fringe, she makes sure the diamond tennis bracelet around her wrist catches the light. Coming from immense wealth and having known me back when we both held Luna titles, Sylvia only visits this place to gloat over what she assumes is my tragic downfall.

“We’ll just take our usual table and order, dear,” she continues. Ever since I traded my Luna status for the restaurant business, she has made a habit of addressing me as 'dear' in a tone dripping with condescension, though I refuse to let it bother me.

A couple of minutes later, I carry their beverages over and set the glasses down on the table with care. Taking a slow sip, Sylvia tilts her head to smile up at me.

“Who could have predicted we would wind up like this?” It is obvious she is talking strictly about my situation rather than hers, so I merely give a polite nod. “Stella, once the most envied woman in town, reduced to waiting tables.” Correcting her to point out that I actually own the building and run the kitchen isn't worth the breath.

“Honestly, after your split from Vance, who would have guessed you’d end up working as hired help?” That phony, patronizing smile is right back on her lips. Her thoughts are written all over her face: pathetic Stella, cast aside by her Alpha.

“I have to admit, I am a bit jealous of you,” I reply smoothly, shifting my eyes briefly toward her husband. Pure self-satisfaction flashes across her expression.

Her primary motive for dining here is clearly the thrill of watching me serve her. Rather than fighting it, I have turned her malice into a business strategy; being Vance’s former wife draws the upper crust straight through my doors to gossip.

“Your server will be over shortly to take care of you,” I tell her with a practiced, polite smile. “Just let me know if you require anything else.” With a dismissive wave of her hand, she sends me away, and I head back toward the front counter.

Everything in this establishment belongs to me—the very first thing I have ever truly owned on my own—and a handful of petty remarks could never strip that accomplishment away. Eager to witness my supposed ruin from Luna to kitchen staff, she will undoubtedly keep coming back and spending her money, which suits me just fine.

Every table in the dining room is filled with the exact same wealthy crowd I once mingled with as an equal. Because of our shared past, I already know their preferred seating, their culinary preferences, and their favorite drinks. Every single skill that once made me an effective Luna now makes me exceptional at running this business.

The entrance door opens to admit a man in a custom-fitted suit, the overhead lights glinting off his polished dress shoes. As he strides up to the reception desk, I greet him with a professional smile.

“Good evening, sir. How may I assist you?” I inquire. Though his face is unfamiliar, he carries the distinct air of someone high-ranking.

“I need to reserve the entire restaurant,” he states flatly.

Checking the reservation ledger on the counter, I let out a small frown. “My apologies, sir, but our tables are completely reserved for the remainder of the week. The earliest we could accommodate you is next week.”

His expression hardens as he takes an intimidating step toward the desk. “Do you have any idea who you’re dealing with?” he snaps under his breath, causing my brows to lift. “I represent Alpha Vance of the Moon Valley pack, one of the strongest Alphas in the country. Are you certain you don’t want to rethink that answer?”

Walking calmly out from behind the counter, I fold my hands neatly at my waist and offer him a serene smile. “You may inform Vance that I am the owner here. Should he require a table, he is welcome to schedule an appointment through my manager.” I gesture toward Nadine, who backs me up with a pleasant smile of her own.

The representative shakes his head in disbelief. “Are you really sure you want to do this? Do you have any clue who he is?”

Nobody knows his history better than I do, yet I merely arch a single brow. “If the booking is for Vance, tell him our earliest opening is three months from today.”

Spinning on my heel, I walk away from the desk and leave Nadine to handle the stunned messenger. Pushing through the swinging doors into the kitchen, I draw in a deep breath of the savory aromas filling the air as a deeply gratified grin spreads across my face. Perhaps pulling that stunt was a bit petty, yet resisting the temptation was simply impossible.

It is high time Vance found out how his own medicine tastes.