When Florence opened her eyes again, she was back in the villa—lying in a bed she didn't remember getting into.
Who had brought her here?
Before she could figure it out, loud laughter and dramatic movie lines blasted through the house, loud enough to make the walls shake.
She pushed herself up and cracked open the door. Ursa was sprawled on the living room carpet, legs crossed, arms full of snacks, laughing so hard at the television that she could barely breathe.
"Oh hey, Florence! You're awake." Ursa turned with a wide grin, clearly unbothered. "Oops—did I wake you? Sorry, the movie's just too funny."
She popped a chip in her mouth and made a loud crunch. "I haven't felt so good the last few days. The Alpha said the air's better here, so I'm staying for a few days to recover. Hope you don't mind?"
Florence's gaze instinctively went to the sofa.
Baldwin was sitting there, flipping through the Pack's internal finance reports with cool, focused detachment.
Despite the blaring television and Ursa's antics, he didn't even twitch a brow.
Florence suddenly remembered something she had read in her journal.
"He snapped at me again today for spacing out beside him. He said my breathing was too loud and told me to leave the room.
"Note to self: Never disturb him while he's working at home."
And now?
Ursa was rattling chip bags, the TV was blasting fight scenes, and Baldwin didn't even look up.
So he had a double standard for someone he loved and didn't.
Florence opened her mouth to speak, but Baldwin beat her to it. "If the Moon Goddess hadn't messed up the pairing," he said flatly, "this house would've been yours from the start. She doesn't belong here, no need to report to her."
"You're right," Florence replied, voice calm. "No need to report to me. Stay as long as you like."
That made Baldwin pause mid-page. He finally looked up, eyes narrowing slightly.
This wasn't like her.
Florence wasn't crying or screaming. She wasn't even blinking back tears. Just calm. Too calm.
But that flicker of doubt lasted barely a second.
He dropped his gaze and went back to his papers.
After all, he never bothered about anything involving her.
And Florence? She didn't care what he thought anymore. She turned around and shut the door behind her.
She locked herself in that room for the rest of the day, with only the chaotic noise outside to keep her company.
Ursa kept the volume at max. She stomped around the hardwood floors in heels. At one point, Florence even heard her greasy fingers smudging Baldwin's treasured sapphire sword—a family heirloom from his late mother.


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