Ex-Alpha's Regret: Siren's Comeback novel Chapter 28

POV: Seraphina

That evening, Damian unveiled his next meticulously crafted torture. He called it a "quiet family dinner." When I entered the small, private dining room, the table was set for only four. For Damian, for Sylvie, for Nico, and for me. The intention was clear: to force me into the role of a spectator at my own family's new, perfect life.

The meal was an agonizing performance. I sat in silence, a ghost at the feast, while the other three created a flawless tableau of domestic bliss. Damian, who had never had the patience for bedtime stories, was now recounting a grand, embellished tale of one of his early battles, his eyes sparkling as Nico listened with rapt attention. He was the doting father I had always dreamed he would be, but his performance was not for me.

Sylvie played the part of the perfect mother. She didn't just serve Nico; she doted on him, cutting his steak into tiny, perfect squares, dabbing the corner of his mouth with a napkin with a soft smile. "Slow down, my little warrior," she murmured, her voice dripping with affection. "You'll get a tummy ache."

Nico, in turn, basked in their combined attention. He preened and chattered, telling Sylvie about his day at the creche, asking Damian a stream of questions about being an Alpha. He didn't look at me once. It was as if my chair was empty. I was an outsider, a piece of furniture, a silent witness to my own complete and utter replacement. The food on my plate tasted like ash, each swallow a struggle against the knot of grief and rage in my throat.

When the plates were finally cleared, I thought the ordeal was over. But Damian had saved the worst for last.

He reached over and, with a steady hand, pinned the symbol of my authority, my role, my very identity as the lady of the manor, onto the bodice of Sylvie's dress.

"From this day forward," he declared, his fingers brushing her chest, "all internal household matters are your full responsibility."

The clasp clicked shut, the sound echoing in the silent room like a cell door slamming closed.