Broken Bond: Claimed by My Ex-Husband's Alpha Billionaire Uncle-Chapter 60: A Special Shrimp Salad

"No, Charlotte! You’re right!" Diana suddenly grabbed her hand, her eyes wide with realization. "Drugs! Maybe this is all happening because of some kind of drug!"

But the thought still didn’t fully add up. What kind of drug could possibly make a werewolf lose their healing ability? It made no sense, yet it seemed like the only reasonable explanation.

"We need to get a doctor to run some tests on his blood," Damon muttered, his gaze narrowing as he watched the rogue werewolf, who was now drooling and eerily still, like some kind of lifeless statue. "But ... I have a feeling he’s not going to make it before the doctor arrives."

"Get out, Charlotte," Damon said softly but firmly, stepping in front of her to shield her view. "This isn’t something you need to see."

Charlotte knew she could handle it, but the more she thought about it, the more she realized Damon was probably right. Watching a werewolf die like this wasn’t going to give her any pleasure—it would only leave her with a nightmare.

"I’ll wait outside," she said quietly.

As she turned toward the door, she caught a glimpse of the rogue werewolf’s eyes bulging, as if they were about to burst from his skull. His skin turned a sickly green, and the wounds on his body started to rot.

How could something like this happen?

But she didn’t ask. She simply stepped out of the room, leaving Damon and Diana to handle it.

The pack of werewolves stood outside the door. They all glanced at her briefly but said nothing.

Charlotte sighed. They weren’t rude; they probably just felt awkward speaking to her since she hadn’t interacted much with them yet.

Well, slowly but surely, Charlotte was sure she could warm up to them and become a useful Luna for her pack.

Then, Charlotte decided to sit in the living room, her gaze drifting to the pool in the backyard.

The atmosphere felt oddly calming, despite the heavy situation inside the house. The quiet stillness seemed to offer a brief respite from the chaos around her.

About half an hour later, the sound of a car pulling into the villa’s driveway broke the silence, and to her surprise, it was Louis who stepped out of the vehicle.

"Charlotte? What are you doing here?" Louis’s voice was filled with surprise when he saw her sitting in the living room.

Charlotte smiled up at him, trying to ease the tension. "Well, Damon had to come here when he was going to drop me off, so... I decided to follow him. What about you? What are you doing here?" She raised an eyebrow playfully. "I thought it would be the doctor showing up, not you."

Louis chuckled softly, the corners of his lips lifting. "I am the doctor," he said, adding a bit of surprise to the moment. "Maybe you didn’t know, but I’m a neurosurgeon."

Charlotte blinked, stunned. "Since when?!"

Charlotte thought that Louis was solely focused on managing the pack and didn’t have any other work outside of that. But the more she thought about it, the more she realized that he often disappeared at night, leaving right after receiving a call from someone.

Could it be true that he was really a neurosurgeon?

"Since... always?" Louis chuckled. "Come on, you don’t really think I just rely on my brother’s money for a lavish lifestyle, do you? My wife and daughter would probably leave me if I couldn’t buy them diamonds."

Charlotte wasn’t entirely sure about that.

"Alright, let’s talk later," Louis said with a smile, giving her a playful pat on the shoulder. "If you’re hungry, feel free to grab something from the fridge. We always keep it stocked with frozen food. People tend to swing by here, so we make sure the supplies are always fresh."

She didn’t have much of an appetite at night, but what about Damon?

After everything that had happened today, he must be exhausted and probably in need of something to eat. Maybe she could make him something.

Cooking complex dishes wasn’t exactly her forte, but frozen food or simple dishes? That she could manage. She walked to the kitchen and began looking through the ingredients in the fridge.

What did Damon like to eat again?

Oh, shrimp salad—she remembered now.

Her eyes lit up when she spotted the frozen shrimp and all the other ingredients she’d need to whip up a shrimp salad. A smile tugged at her lips. It wasn’t much, but she hoped it would be something he’d enjoy after everything he’d been through.

Charlotte quickly gathered the ingredients, her hands moving with purpose, but there was a little hesitation in her heart.

She wasn’t a skilled cook, but she wanted to do something kind for Damon.

As she prepared the shrimp, her mind kept drifting back to everything that had happened— the rogue werewolf, the mystery, and the unspoken weight Damon carried.

It must be so exhausting to lead such a large pack like the Crimson Moon Pack, right? On top of that, he also has to manage his big company.

No wonder Damon is rarely home and sometimes looks so tired.

Despite everything he had on his plate, Damon still made an effort to spend time with Charlotte, showing her attention whenever he could.

She couldn’t help but feel grateful for that, but it also made her realize that she needed to be more considerate of him too, especially with how much he was juggling.

She wanted to be there for him, just as he was for her.

Charlotte picked up a fork, hesitating for a moment before taking a bite. The cool, fresh flavors of the shrimp mixed with the crisp vegetables, and to her surprise, it was actually quite good.

She hadn’t expected much, but the taste was refreshing. Before she knew it, she had taken another bite, and then another.

It was almost as if she couldn’t stop, the taste lingering on her tongue, a small comfort in the midst of the chaos of the day.

She wasn’t sure how many bites had passed, but soon enough, the plate was nearly empty. She stopped, blinking in surprise as she realized what she’d done.

She hadn’t planned on eating so much—hadn’t meant to. It was just supposed to be a quick taste test before handing it over to Damon.

She blinked several times and dropped the fork onto the plate. How ... how could she have suddenly eaten so much?

What was she thinking?

She had just wanted to taste the food before giving it to Damon ... Oh, wait. Had she unconsciously eaten so much because her mind was full of thoughts about him?

"Charlotte?"

Damon’s deep voice pulled her out of her thoughts. He walked toward her, his face lined with exhaustion, but there was something else in his expression—concern. She had been standing still for too long, lost in her own head.

"Are you okay, sweetheart?" he asked gently.

Charlotte blinked, then slowly pushed the nearly empty plate toward him. Her fingers hovered over it for a second, as if reluctant to let go.

"I ... I almost ate all of it," she whispered.

Damon’s steps quickened, closing the space between them. He didn’t react with shock or disappointment, didn’t scold her or brush it off. Instead, he simply asked, "And how do you feel about that?"

Charlotte’s breath caught. How did she feel?

Guilty. Of course, she felt guilty. She wasn’t supposed to eat this much, not at night. Tomorrow, she’d convince herself that her face looked rounder, that she had ruined her appearance when she was supposed to shoot.

But deep down, beneath all the shame, there was something else—something familiar, something she hadn’t felt in a long time.

"It tastes delicious ...."

Her voice wavered, and before she could stop herself, tears welled up in her eyes. She bit her lower lip, trying to hold them back, but the emotions crashed over her like a wave.

"It’s really... delicious," she repeated, quieter this time, as if the words themselves were fragile.

For the first time in five years, she had focused on the taste of food, not the calories.

It was strange. It was terrifying.

And yet, for the first time in a long, long time ...

It felt a little bit like freedom.

"Is that so?" Damon smiled before pulling her into his embrace.

"Tell me," he murmured, trying to make sure Charlotte would focus on other things rather than guilt. "What does it taste like?"

Charlotte hesitated, her fingers gripping the fabric of Damon’s shirt as she buried her face against his chest. She could still taste the lingering flavors on her tongue—something she had never allowed herself to truly savor before.

"It’s ... fresh," she whispered, her voice almost uncertain. "The shrimp is tender, and the dressing is tangy but light. The crunch from the vegetables balances everything out."

Damon hummed in response, gently stroking her back. "That sounds delicious."

"It is," Charlotte mumbled. "But the food was supposed to be for you, not me. And ... I almost ate all of it. I’m sorry."

Her voice was barely audible, choked by the tears she was trying to hold back.

Damon let out a soft chuckle, his hand gently rubbing her back in soothing circles. "That’s okay," he said, his voice warm. "You can always make it for me again later."

In the middle of their sweet moment, they suddenly heard Louis clear his throat before saying, "I have no idea what’s going on here, but can you spare me a little of your time?"