Amnesia Erased Luna's Pain and Love novel Chapter 3

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"Tomorrow is Ursa's birthday. Seven in the evening. Regal Hotel." The voice on the phone was cold and detached. "Don't be late. This concerns our family's reputation."

"I'm not—"

"That's all."

Click. The call was cut off before Florence could even refuse. No discussion. No choice.

Her parents had long since shifted all their love to their adopted daughter. Ursa—stronger, steadier, a beta—seemed more like their child than an omega like Florence ever did. And Baldwin's obsession with Ursa only made it worse.

Everything was there in Florence's journals.

When they first brought her home, they said Ursa was adopted, and they needed to treat her with extra care so she wouldn't feel left out.

Later, when Florence turned out to be an omega, they said Ursa had helped them through the pain of losing her and that loving Ursa a little more was only natural.

And when Florence bonded with Baldwin, they insisted she had stolen Ursa's boyfriend, and so she owed it to Ursa to back off and make amends.

All these years, even when Florence was so miserable she tried to end her life, they looked the other way.

Worse—they asked her to be the bigger person.

She already had the title of Luna, the highest honor a she-wolf could have. Why compete for Baldwin's love, too?

How ridiculous.

Who is their real daughter again?

And who needed this hollow, title-only Luna status anyway?

Florence's heart turned colder.

On the night of the party, Florence chose a simple black gown.

The moment she walked in, she spotted Ursa, the darling of the hour, surrounded by guests, and Baldwin—who she hadn't seen in days.

"Ursa really is lucky," whispered one woman to another nearby. "She's adopted, but her parents treat her like a gem. Even that cold-hearted alpha dotes on her."

"I heard Alpha Baldwin planned the whole party himself. That champagne? Flown in from Freubar—six figures a bottle. And the flowers? Delivered just this morning from Hegreau. The entire ballroom's decorated to look like her favorite painting. Must've cost millions."

Their words drifted into Florence's ears like a bitter wind.

She sipped her drink and glanced at Baldwin.

He wore a black suit, the top buttons of his shirt undone, revealing a glimpse of collarbone. He looked every bit the commanding alpha.

And yet, this powerful Alpha was crouched in front of Ursa, gently fixing the hem of her dress; his stern face was smiling.

"Now, please welcome Mr. and Mrs. Wraith as they share a few words for their beloved daughter!"

The host's voice rang out. Florence's parents stepped on stage arm-in-arm—with Ursa.

Martin Wraith cleared his throat and scanned the crowd. "Tonight, I have an important announcement. Sixty percent of Wraith Group's shares will be passed down to Ursa."

The room exploded into whispers. Florence's hand clenched around her glass.

The Wraiths had been running businesses for years, and their family businesses had been yielding substantial dividends every year. Until now, her father held 70% of the shares. Florence and Ursa each owned 5%, with the remaining 20% divided among extended relatives.