Chasing His Kickass Luna Back novel Chapter 134

“Dammit,” I mutter under my breath, reaching for a fresh piece of salmon. I’m about to season it when I overhear voices filtering from the dining room.

“Well, you should have seen the look on her face, trying so hard to impress everyone with her little cooking skills. As if we’ve forgotten that our ex-Luna has turned into nothing more than a pathetic housemaid.”

I recognize that voice: Gianna. I can see the back of her head, her perfectly curled hair and tight dress, as she saunters past the kitchen door. Heat surges up my neck and into my cheeks. A pathetic housemaid? Really?

That’s it.

With sudden clarity, I remember that the wardrobe upstairs still houses my former life—gowns and dresses, a collection of silk and sequins. A cunning plan starts to take shape.

“Elsie, could you please watch the stove? Take the salmon off in five minutes and let Karl know that dinner is ready.”

“Erm, Abby…?” she starts, but I’m already ripping off my apron and dashing out of the kitchen and up the back steps two at a time.

A line of designer gowns greets me as I slide open the wardrobe doors. My fingers hover over the clothes for a moment before settling on a dress that I had once loved dearly—a stunning deep-red gown that fits like a dream, even now, years later.

I take a glance in the mirror before deciding to change my hairstyle. A few minutes later, the neat bun I was wearing before is now elegantly curled, cascading down my back. I don’t need much makeup; just some mascara, a hint of eyeshadow, and a bold red lip to match the dress.

As I get ready, I can’t help but wonder why I’m doing this. Is it really just to prove something to Gianna and her judgmental friends, or is it… something else?

The moment I do, the room falls silent. Every eye turns in my direction.

But it’s Karl’s reaction that I care about the most, as much as I don’t want to admit it.

As I descend the stairs, his eyes catch mine, and they widen in astonishment. His gaze travels the length of my gown, and I can almost see the wheels turning in his mind, reassessing, recalculating. I reach the foot of the stairs and pause for effect. The room is so quiet I could hear a pin drop.

Right now, at this moment, my message is clear—I’m not someone you can ever dismiss or forget. I am Abby, the ex-Luna, the renowned chef, and the woman who just cooked an extravagant three-course meal for a room full of Alphas, yet still had time to dress to kill.

Let’s see Gianna, or anyone else for that matter, label that as ‘pathetic.’