Ethan was cooking in the kitchen.

As he placed the food on the table， he casually asked， "Does Sophia visit you often?"

His tone was light， almost indifferent.

At first， I didn't think much of it. It was like watching an old movie， a scene replaying in my mind. In my past life， I had completely overlooked this moment.

But now， remembering how I had died at Sophia's hands， my heart clenched. Before I could stop myself， the words slipped out.

"You don't like her?"

"Why?"

"She just moved here， and you two are already close?"

"Are you hiding something from me?"

"Ethan， I..."

The moment I asked， I regretted it.

I had been careless.

The old me wouldn't have made such a mistake.

I stared at Ethan， carefully watching his reaction. Sure enough， his hand froze for a brief second while arranging the plate.

His deep blue eyes， usually calm and unreadable， darkened. For a fleeting moment， a sharp， almost menacing glint flickered in them—like a crack appearing in a perfectly crafted mask， revealing something hidden underneath.

That cold， fleeting look—natural， commanding， almost regal—vanished as quickly as it came.

A strange feeling crept into my heart.

I recalled Sophia's final words before she died.

The prince of the werewolves， the strongest Alpha.

Had I ever truly understood Ethan?

What was he hiding?

Why hadn't he ever told me?

Was it because he knew I would die soon， and I simply wasn't important enough to know the truth?

Can I trust Ethan?

If he really cared about me in my past life， why did he divorce me?

If he truly cared， knowing the danger Sophia posed， why did he do nothing?

So many questions swirled in my mind.

Perhaps because I had already experienced death once， I now understood—someone like Sophia， who seemed fragile and gentle， had been capable of taking my life without hesitation.

I had to be careful.

For now， I couldn't act rashly.

...

"I was just asking." I quickly covered up my moment of weakness， lowering my voice. "You never liked parties before."

"They're boring."

"..."

Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

"You should stop going， too."

"Ethan， I don't throw huge parties. It's just friends gathering to eat and talk—"

"A bunch of dull people wasting their dull lives." Ethan cut me off， his voice slow and casual， as if the words meant nothing. "They eat some meat， drink a little wine， and suddenly think they're profound."

He placed the plate down with effortless grace， his expression indifferent.

"And just a few decades， they act like they've seen it all."

His tone wasn't harsh， but it carried an air of superiority.

Not just a casual arrogance， but the kind of detachment one would have after living far too long.

My heart tightened.

I gazed at Ethan， a sense of unease creeping in.

"...Is the chicken ready? I'm hungry." I changed the subject.

"No extra sauce for you today." He spoke lightly. "You're in good shape right now. I like it. Don't gain or lose weight."

He smiled as if he were making an innocent remark.

"...Okay."

"You don't like that?"

His voice remained gentle， the same as always.

But in those blue eyes， I caught a flicker of displeasure.

I quickly waved my hand. "I—no， that's not it. I mean... thank you， baby."

Ethan's gaze sharpened slightly.

"What did you just say?"

"I said... thank you."

"The last two words."

"...Baby."

A slow smile curled at the corners of Ethan's lips.

......

The chicken was golden brown—crispy on the outside， tender on the inside.

As I took a bite， the rich， cheesy flavor melted on my tongue， accompanied by a subtle， smoky aroma.

For the first time tonight， my mood lightened.

A familiar melody drifted from the speakers.

It took me a moment to realize—it was one of my old favorites.

I felt like I had been transported back five years， reliving a past life.

But then I started to panic.

What should I do? Divorce?

No.

Divorce meant death.

Sophia had already killed me once.

If Ethan weren't here， she would do it again.

If I died by her hands this time， would fate grant me another chance?

Would God favor me again?

If I don't get a divorce... Confessing everything to Ethan?

No， that's not an option either. In my past life， Ethan gave up on me.

And because of that， Sophia had killed me without hesitation.

I can't afford to gamble my life on trust.

Not again.

He's a werewolf—powerful， long-lived， and indifferent to humans.

But what am I to Ethan?

He hasn't even shown me his true form.

"What are you thinking about?"

Ethan cut a piece of steak and placed it in front of me.

"You've been distracted all night. Are you thinking about the divorce?"

"No."

His eyes darkened.

"No?"

"Elena， you've been bringing up divorce a lot lately. And now， even on a night like this， you're completely lost in thought..."

He exhaled sharply， the warmth in his gaze vanishing.

The air between us turned frigid in an instant.

His long， slender fingers set down the knife and fork.

He stared at me， his expression unreadable—anger mixed with something else， something almost... trapped.

The intensity in his eyes made me instinctively shrink back. For a moment， I couldn't find my voice.

And then， as if he had finally lost patience， Ethan spoke again， his tone icy.

"Do you really want to leave?"

"I'm not thinking about divorce."

"What?"

"I'm not thinking about divorce."

I poured him a glass of red wine， watching the flicker of surprise in his expression before I quickly added， "I was thinking about my brother."

Silence.

After a long pause， Ethan finally spoke.

"Your brother wants to see you?"

"Yeah. He invited us to dinner at my place tomorrow."

"And that's enough to distract you this much?" Ethan narrowed his eyes.

"You know my brother doesn't like you，" I said quietly. "He never wanted me to be with you."

"So?"

"I'm going to see him tomorrow，" I continued， hesitating for a moment.

Then， watching Ethan's expression carefully， I added: "...And I want you to come with me."

Ethan seemed to relax slightly.

His expression softened， though I couldn't quite tell if it was relief or something else.

Thinking about my brother， I felt an unexpected sense of comfort.

I hadn't seen him in so long. Vesper was a lawyer.

Always busy.

He had been adopted by my mother when he was six.

Yes... I hadn't seen him in a long time.

I vaguely recalled that in my previous life， Vesper had texted me one evening， asking to meet.

But I never went.

That day， Ethan and I had fought， and I ignored the message.

My phone vibrated.

[Wisp: Let's meet tomorrow. Just us.]

[Wisp: I need to talk to you about your husband.]

My heart skipped a beat. The message—word for word—was the same as in my past life.

This time， I wouldn't ignore it.

[Elena: Okay.]

[Elena: See you tomorrow.]

I hit send and glanced at Ethan， half expecting him to stop me.

But he didn't.

Instead， he seemed... pleased.

"Vesper wants you to go alone， doesn't he?" I froze.

"How did you know?" Ethan smiled， his expression as gentle as ever. "Just a guess."

He didn't explain further.

He simply looked at me， his gaze unreadable， and said， "I'll wait for you at home."

"...Alright."

Just as the words left my lips， a familiar voice called from outside.

"Elena， are you home?"

Sophia is coming.