The Sickened Luna's Last Chance novel Chapter 384

**TITLE: The Perfect 384**
**Chapter 384**

In that instant, a loud crash echoed from somewhere in the distance, drawing the attention of everyone in the vicinity. I couldn’t quite decipher what had transpired, but the unmistakable sound of a slap reverberated through the air, followed closely by a high-pitched voice shrieking, “You ruined my dress!” The words hung in the air, charged with indignation.

Brian, momentarily pulled from his self-absorbed musings, blinked rapidly as he processed the ruckus. “I, uh… I wouldn’t be overthrown,” he muttered, his arrogance seeping through his words like an unwelcome odor. What a pompous fool he was. “Maybe it’s high time an Alpha King with some real spine took the reins. In fact, I think—”

“Brian! There you are!”

As I had anticipated, Margaret and Richard rushed over, their expressions a mix of concern and urgency. Like moths drawn to a flickering flame, they had spotted their son making a spectacle of himself and knew they had to intervene before the situation escalated further.

A wide smile spread across my face as I turned to greet them. “Richard! Margaret! It’s been so—”

But before I could finish my sentence, a violent cough erupted from my throat. The people surrounding me gasped, their faces turning pale as I sputtered into my hand, desperately pounding my fist against my chest. Crimson liquid trickled down my shirt collar, and I could see Margaret’s eyes widen in horror, her gaudy diamond ring glinting ominously in the dim light.

As I felt myself teetering on the brink of collapse, the three of them crowded around me, their concern palpable…

Unbeknownst to them, two shadowy figures had quietly slipped out of the banquet hall, unnoticed.

—

**Ella’s POV**

“You ruined my dress!”

The sting from the slap was sharp and immediate, my cheek burning as my head snapped sideways. I hadn’t anticipated Anya’s ferocity; her strike was unexpected and potent. Yet, I had to give her credit—she was certainly embodying her role with remarkable skill.

“Certainly.” The venomous look Helen shot me was unmistakable. If I were truly her servant, I could only imagine the punishment awaiting me later. “Right this way.”

Anya and I exchanged furtive glances, a silent understanding passing between us, before we followed Helen up the elegantly curved staircase to the second floor. She led us to her private dressing room, a lavish space that housed an opulent bathroom and a closet overflowing with exquisite gowns.

“Take all the time you need, Luna Anya,” Helen said, her smile warm yet strained. “And you—when you’re finished, I want you in the kitchens for the rest of the night. I can’t have you destroying anything else tonight.”

“Yes, ma’am.” I curtsied, deliberately averting my gaze, playing the part of the obedient servant she expected me to be.

But the moment she left the room, my mask of submission shattered, replaced by a triumphant grin. I turned to Anya, who was rummaging through the layers of her voluminous skirt. With a flourish, she produced two wigs—one a vibrant short red, the other a long, rich mahogany.

She tossed the red wig my way, and without wasting another moment, we began the process of undressing, our laughter mingling with the thrill of our secret plan.