Married To The Billionaire Alpha King-Chapter 144 - she’s chosen

144

~Lira’s POV 𝐟𝕣𝗲𝕖𝕨𝗲𝐛𝗻𝗼𝐯𝗲𝚕.𝗰𝚘𝐦

The days blurred into each other like dirty water running down a drain, and I never really knew if it was morning or night inside that hotel room. The curtains stayed closed. The air smelled like sweat and dust. I barely ate. I barely slept. All I did was scroll. Refresh. Read. Stare.

Elara’s name was everywhere.

Everywhere.

Headlines about her fashion show.

Interviews praising her designs.

Articles calling her Luna Elara, the rising star of the century.

Pictures of her standing proudly beside Alpha Darlon like they owned the world.

Sometimes I thought my chest would split open from how much I hated her. Other times, I wondered if I hated her or if I just hated how the world chose her instead of me.

I whispered to myself in the quiet of that room, almost like a prayer or a curse.

"She took everything. And she gets to shine for it."

I spent a month like that. Watching. Studying her every move. Not because I admired her... never that... but because if there was going to be a moment to strike, it had to be perfect.

Then I saw it.

A headline that stopped my breath in my throat.

"Wedding Of The Year: Beta David To Marry Luna Elara’s Closest Friend."

A wedding, a gathering with a crowd. Security everywhere, but also chaos.

Food, decorations, and staff would be moving like ants trying to prepare.

I felt my lips curve into a smile I did not recognize on my own face.

"So her little friend is getting married. How sweet. How convenient."

I imagined being there. Not as a guest. Not as someone meant to celebrate. But as a shadow. A ghost. A problem no one saw coming.

"She thinks she is untouchable. She thinks they have won. Not yet."

I read everything I could. Not instructions, nothing technical. Just information that was already out there: how the venue was being decorated, how many staff were hired, what companies were bringing in food, the kinds of uniforms servers wore. I found my way with the group of servers with a fake identity, and I was glad that I got in.

I started practicing how to stand like them. How to hold a tray. How to walk like someone no one would notice. I stood in front of the mirror and practiced smiling with dead eyes. The kind of smile that no one questions.

That was what hatred taught me: All I needed was to blend in long enough.

I did not look like myself by the end of that month. Makeup changed my face. A wig changed my hair. Contacts turned my eyes into something stranger. I chose clothing that felt wrong but looked right. I stared at my reflection and whispered,

"No one will know who you are. No one will suspect a thing. Not until you decide."

The night before I left, I sat on the edge of the bed. My hands were shaking, but it was not fear. It was anticipation. Like the moment before lightning strikes. Like a breath held too long.

"I will not live in that girl’s shadow anymore. I will not sit here like a ghost."

I stood.

"I am done hiding. One of us will walk away from that wedding. And it will not be her."

I packed what I needed. Nothing complicated. Nothing with instructions. Just things small enough to tuck away, hide in fabric, slip into pockets. Like a gun and some sharp objects.

Things that, in a moment, could change a life forever. I did not think about the consequences. I did not think about what came after. I only thought about seeing her face fall apart.

About watching the world finally stop cheering for her.

When I walked out of that hotel room, I did not look back.

The servers gathered the next morning at the catering company’s loading area. People talking, laughing, adjusting uniforms. They did not know me, but I smiled when someone glanced my way. Just a simple hello, like I belonged.

Fake name. Fake smile. Fake life.

I slipped into the group easily. Like I had always been there.

For a moment, standing in line, I imagined the look on Elara’s face when she finally realized her luck had run out. When she finally understood that someone out there hated her enough to destroy everything she built.

For the first time in a long time... I felt alive.

"This is it," I whispered to myself. "My revenge begins now."

The drive to the venue felt longer than it should have. Maybe it was the way the roads twisted, or maybe it was just me. My heart was beating too loudly in my ears the entire time. I sat in the back of the catering van, my disguise perfectly in place. Hair hidden under the standard cap. Makeup flattens any softness in my features. Eyes blank. Voice ready to sound like someone forgettable.

That was the goal: The van pulled up in front of the service entrance. Not the grand front doors where the wealthy wolves would arrive. Not the part with flowers and cameras. One of the catering supervisors called out instructions. His voice echoed a little.

"Pairs of two. Carry in the trays. Keep moving. Do not separate. We have security checks once we get beyond the loading hall."

My pulse jumped. I kept my head down. I didn’t respond. I just followed.

The guards at the door barely looked at us. They were focused on the equipment, not faces. People in uniforms look the same when they move like they belong. I kept my steps steady. Not rushed. Not hesitant.

Just... there.

We walked through a long hallway that smelled like new paint and expensive flowers. Chandeliers in the main area glittered through the open double doors ahead. I could hear music. Soft. Elegant. High-class wedding atmosphere.

My stomach twisted, not from guilt or fear, but something uglier.

When the group slowed down to unload, I saw my opening. It wasn’t dramatic. No shadows, no chase, nothing cinematic. Just a moment. Someone asked the supervisor a question. Someone else dropped a stack of glasses. Heads turned.

I stepped out of line.

Not loudly. Not quickly. Just one step... then another. And then I was behind a column.

No one noticed.

I slipped down another hallway, pressing into the quiet. The space felt untouched by the chaos outside. Storage rooms. Linen closets. A narrow hall led to where floral arrangements waited to be placed. The smell of roses and lavender almost made me cough.

I found a spot behind stacked crates of decorations, silk flowers, glass centerpieces, ribbons matching the wedding colors. Soft pink, dusty gold, white like innocence. How ironic.

There was a sliver between the crates where I could see the ballroom doors. Guests weren’t there yet, but staff walked back and forth. I could hear checks being done. Final instructions. The building was inhaling before the event truly began.

I crouched there, controlling my breathing. My hands trembled, but not enough to stop me. I rested my forehead against the cool wood of the crate.

I imagined her... smiling. Soft and graceful, like she belonged to the world. Like she never stole anything. Like my suffering was a story that never mattered.

My jaw clenched.

"She thinks she’s untouchable. She thinks she’s chosen. She’s wrong."