Alpha's Discarded Luna (Talia) novel Chapter 152

Talia’s POV

Imema quiets down noticeably in the days that follow. With dramatic fainting spells to interrupt her work, she simply puts her head down and works.

During this time, Jack has deliberately given her tasks like serving coffee and doing menial chores. He even assigns her some of the more difficult sorting jobs, the ones with the thorniest vines and the most tangled roots.

To our surprise, Imema endures it all without complaint.

Jack narrows his eyes, clearly suspicious. He leans in close to me, his voice barely a whisper. “Something is off.” He watches Imema carefully sorting herbs across the 1 room. “Talia, what do you think she is up to?”

I glance at Imema. Her movements are steady, deliberate. “Maybe she is waiting for the right moment to fake a fall or pretend to pass out. Just to get Nick and Aires to see it.”

Jack snorts dismissively. “Let her. I am not afraid of her 6

little com

< Chapter 147

getting here.”

Jack nods slowly with a satisfied gleam in his eye. “The sooner you get out of this mess, the better.”

We chat a little more before I glance at the time. It is getting late. I gather Robin and head home, my mind already turning toward tomorrow.

***

The next day, I arrive at the courthouse with all the necessary documents. The divorce agreement is tucked into my bag, along with the settlement agreement for

Nick.

This time, I am not foolish enough to arrive too early, watching the door for a man who never came.

I show up just five minutes before the appointed time. If Aires dares to be late, I will tear up the settlement agreement on the spot. Let him explain that to Nick.

At 9:58 AM, a sleek, black limited–edition luxury car pulls up beside me. The door opens, and a tall, well–dressed

man steps out.

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I knew he would come. Aires might not care about me, but he cares about everything else… including Nick’s freedom and Imema’s treatment.

Without another word, we enter the courthouse,

Inside, the building is bustling with activity. There are far fewer couples waiting to get married, but the lines at the divorce windows are long. I look at the people waiting, each of them carrying their own stories.

Some have blank, emotionless faces. They stare at the floor or the ceiling, anywhere but at the person beside them. Some are still bickering, pointing fingers and blaming each other for everything that went wrong. Others are in tears, desperately begging their partners not to go through with it. And then there are the ones who look relieved, their faces lit with the joy of finally breaking free.

I wonder which one I look like; I hope it is the last.

A staff member approaches us before we can join the line. “Alpha Aires, this way, please.”

Of course. Aires has made arrangements in advance. 14:16

When he wants something done, it is always taken care of

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to process the paperwork.

As we wait, Aires suddenly breaks the silence. “Talia, if you say you have changed your mind now, it is not too late.”

I let out a cold, disdainful laugh.

His eyes narrow, his gaze turning icy. “When you regret this later, don’t say I didn’t give you a chance.”

My expression grows impatient. “Aires, since when did you start acting so indecisive? Do you still want Nick’s settlement agreement or not?”

He falls silent. About ten minutes later, the staff member hands over the paperwork for our mandatory cooling–off period. She explains the process in a practiced, neutral

voice.

“Over the next month, you can still withdraw the divorce. If you decide to go through with it, you will need to return in a month to finalize everything.”

I take the documents and thank her politely. I slip them into my bag and we walk out of the private room.

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“What the hell is this?!” His voice echoes off the high ceilings. “I have been coming here for days before the holiday! Every time I try to book an appointment, they tell me the slots are full! Online, I cannot get a booking either. When the hell am I supposed to get this done?!”

Several other couples who have also been turned away today chime in, their frustration spilling over into loud complaints.

“Exactly!” A woman in a faded coat throws her hands up. “I have been trying to book for a month now, and every time, the slots are full. You can only book a month in advance…” She looks around at the crowd. “Are there really this many people getting divorced?”

A younger man shakes his head. “Why are there limits on divorce appointments? Why don’t you put limits on marriage instead?”

Someone calls out from the back of the crowd. “I will pay a thousand dollars if anyone is willing to sell me their appointment slot!”

“A thousand dollars?” Another voice scoffs. “That is nothing. I will pay three thousand dollars!”

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waves his hand. “Damn it, I will get this divorce no matter

what!”

Then a woman’s voice cuts through the chaos. It trembles with desperation, but it is loud enough to silence the

room.

1

“I will pay ten thousand dollars.”

I turn to look at her. She is small, thin, with dark circles under her eyes and bruises on her arms that she has tried to hide with long sleeves. Her hands are shaking.

“I cannot live with this abusive man any longer… He finally agreed to the divorce, but if this drags on any further, I am scared he will change his mind and refuse again.”

Tears stream down her face. “My life is more important than money. I would rather just pay more than suffer more.”

“Here we go! Another dramatic sob story.”

Someone in the crowd mutters, “If he is abusing you, why don’t you just press charges?”

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“My ex–husband told the judge we were still in love. He said he wanted to give our child a complete family. He said hitting me was just a moment of impulsiveness, something he promised he would never do again.”

She takes a shuddering breath.

“But the moment we got home, he started hitting me again! I waited eight long months for the court’s decision, and they rejected my request for divorce.”

She looks at the crowd with hollow, desperate eyes.

“In the verdict, they hoped we would remain committed to one another.”

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