Betrayed by the Alpha: The Diva’s Last Revenge

The director called, “Cut!” for the third time, but Darius, my celebrity husband, remained locked in a passionate kiss with Seraphina. The crew stood frozen, tension thick in the air. I stepped forward, keeping my voice steady. "Darius, we're done for today. Wrap it up." Seraphina pulled away, tears glistening in her eyes. “I’m just so deep into this role,” she sobbed, clutching Darius’s arm. I forced a smile. Darius’s eyes flickered with irritation as he turned to me. “Lyanna, you have no right to interfere. You see filth in everything. Can’t you just trust me?” The sting of his words barely registered. I had already seen the paparazzi photos—him and Seraphina entering a five-star hotel together that night. The marriage I had spent five years protecting was over.  I just hadn’t signed the papers yet. After a quick call to my lawyer, I returned to the lounge. Darius walked in shortly after. His face softened when he saw me—for a second. Then his gaze turned cold. “Lyanna, this lounge is for lead actors. Why are you here?” I grabbed the thermos from the makeup table, my voice flat. “Just getting my stuff.” He hadn’t touched the meal I made him. Not a single bite. “Don’t bother making food for me anymore,” he muttered. “It’s unpalatable.” In the past, I would have argued, reminded him how he used to love my cooking. But this time, I just nodded. “Hmm.” Then I walked out the door. Darius called after me, irritation laced in his voice. “There’s a crew dinner tonight. The director wants me to discuss the script with Seraphina.” I didn’t miss the guilt in his tone. “Okay,” I said, closing the door behind me. Later that night, he came home around 1 AM. I wasn’t waiting for him like before. He pushed open the bedroom door, frowning. “Lyanna, I have trouble sleeping. Why didn’t you brew my calming tea?” I pulled the blanket over my head. “Ran out of tea leaves last night. Order takeout.” The door slammed shut behind him as he stormed into the study.  In the past, I would have stayed up, apologizing. But this time, I let him be. The next morning, Darius allowed me to ride in the van with him to the set. It was unusual. I should have known something was coming. As we pulled up, Seraphina approached. She was dressed in a backless, low-cut dress, her every movement calculated. “Darius, do you have any bug spray? I always attract mosquitoes,” she purred. Then she saw me. Her expression shifted. “Oh, Lyanna, you’re here too? I’d better take the other car.” Before she could move, Darius spoke, his tone sharp. “Lyanna, can’t you be sensible? Stop causing trouble. Go sit in the assistant’s car.” I didn’t argue. I simply stepped out. My movements were slow, controlled. As I walked away, I felt his gaze on me. A few minutes later, my phone buzzed. A message from Darius: Today, Seraphina will have a scene where she shows her legs. Don’t misunderstand. I stared at the screen for a moment before typing back: Understood. The day dragged on. By the time filming wrapped at 11 PM, I was exhausted. Then—disaster. The scaffolding collapsed. I watched as Darius shoved Seraphina out of harm’s way. They fell, tangled together—lips colliding. The crew cheered, mistaking it for part of the scene. I stood frozen, my wolf stirring within me, urging me to claim what was mine. But I held back. I didn’t have to fight. Because Darius had already made his choice.