Chapter 4: Proofs and Perfume
1111 Words
Five Years and Three Months Ago: Asher at Five Months Old
Sera found the first piece of evidence in the laundry.
It should have been nothing, a simple receipt tucked into the pocket of Dominic’s suit jacket as she sorted clothes for washing. She almost threw it away without looking. Something made her pause.
Marcello’s. Dinner for two. Last Tuesday.
The same night Dominic had said he was working late.
She stared at the total, her fingers trembling. Two filet mignons. Expensive wine. A shared dessert. Marcello’s was the most romantic restaurant in the territory, a place couples chose for anniversaries, not business meetings.
Meanwhile she had spent that evening alone, soothing a fussy Asher and eating leftover pasta while telling herself Dominic was overwhelmed with paperwork.
Do not jump to conclusions, she whispered inside her mind. There must be an innocent explanation.
When Dominic returned that night, she wanted to ask him. The words never left her mouth. Asking meant confirming something she might not be ready to face.
She folded the receipt and tucked it into the back of her desk drawer.
Then she started watching. Really watching.
The signs appeared everywhere once she allowed herself to see them. His late nights became later. Weekends suddenly filled with urgent pack meetings. He showered immediately when he got home. He took phone calls in other rooms with a low voice that carried a strange softness.
The mate bond gave her nothing. Dominic had mastered the art of emotional silence. She felt only the smooth, cold surface of the wall he kept between them.
Two weeks after the receipt, she noticed perfume.
He came home just after midnight, claiming an emergency council session. When he kissed her forehead, she caught it, faint but unmistakable. Jasmine and something deeper, something she had never worn.
“You smell like perfume,” she said quietly.
He paused. “Do I?”
“Yes. Jasmine.”
“Probably Sienna. She was at the meeting and kept standing too close while we reviewed documents.” His tone was casual, as if he were discussing weather. “I should shower.”
Sienna. The woman who had stared at him during the wedding. The woman who looked at Dominic with a familiarity that made Sera’s wolf rise in warning.
“She was at a midnight council meeting?” Sera asked, trying to keep her voice steady.
“Gregory brought her. She is learning council work.” Dominic walked toward the bathroom. “Do not wait up.”
The shower ran for nearly twenty minutes. When he emerged, he smelled only of soap and cedar.
The scent of another woman had been washed away.
Sera lay awake in the darkness, heart pounding. But perfume and a restaurant receipt were not enough to accuse her Alpha husband. She knew exactly how he would respond.
You are imagining things.
You are tired.
You are jealous.
So she began documenting.
A hotel charge from the city.
Flowers purchased with their card, flowers she never received.
A text message that flashed across his screen while he showered. Tonight was perfect. I miss you already.
No name, just a heart.
Sera snapped a photo before it vanished and stored it in a hidden folder on her laptop. She was building a quiet archive, a truth she feared she would one day need.
Three weeks later the breaking point arrived.
Asher had cried all day. He was teething, restless, impossible to soothe. Sera was still in pajamas at three in the afternoon, hair unwashed, eyes ringed in exhaustion. This was motherhood in its rawest form, and she faced it alone.
Dominic had promised to be home early. He had touched her arm that morning and said, “I know you are tired. I will be back by six and I will take the night shift.”
Six came and went.
Then seven.
Then eight.
Sera called at eight-thirty. Voicemail.
She texted. Where are you? You promised.
No reply.
By nine Asher was finally asleep. Sera moved through the kitchen like someone drifting underwater. She made tea. She sat at the table. She stared at nothing and felt the weight of every hour she had held together.
The front door opened at ten-fifteen.
Dominic stepped inside. Sera’s wolf reacted before her mind did. She smelled another woman beneath his cologne. His cheeks were flushed. His hair was slightly mussed.
He had been with someone.
Not earlier.
Recently. Intimately.
“You are late,” Sera said. Her voice sounded strange, almost steady.
“Got held up at the office. Sorry,” he said, without meeting her eyes.
“You smell like perfume again. Jasmine.”
“I told you. Sienna”
“Stop.” She stood, and something in her voice made him finally look at her. “Do not lie to me. Not tonight.”
“Sera, I do not know what you think…”
“I think you were with her.” Her voice trembled. “I think you have been with her for months.”
Silence fell between them like a stone dropped in water.
“Say something,” she whispered. “Tell me I am wrong.” Tell me I’m being paranoid”.
Dominic did not speak. He did not protest or deny. His stillness was an answer.
“Oh God.” Her hand covered her mouth. “It is true. You are having an affair.”
“Sera…”
“How long?” she asked, tears filling her eyes. “How long have you been sleeping with her?”
Dominic closed his eyes. When he opened them, something like relief sat in his expression, as if hiding had been the burden all along.
“Does it matter?” he asked quietly.
“Does it matter?” Her voice cracked. “Yes. It matters. You are my husband. We have a son.”
“A son you can raise without me,” Dominic replied, cold now. “You are strong enough. You have Asher. You have your duties as Luna. Whatever I do should not change anything.”
“Not change anything?” Sera choked. “We are married. We are mated. You took vows.”
“Vows I never wanted,” he said. “Vows my father insisted on.”
The truth settled around her like broken glass. Every assumption she had clung to for years finally shattered.
This was the moment the marriage died.
Not the day he looked at Sienna.
Not the night she found the receipt.
Here, in this kitchen, with this cold truth spoken aloud.
And the worst part was that he did not even look sorry.
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