Chasing His Kickass Luna Back
Chapter 0337

Abby

I'm in the middle of dressing in a rush to go and meet Mr. Thompson and the health inspector at the restaurant. My hands are trembling as I try to button up my shirt, and I'm cursing under my breath when I hear the shower turn off in the other room.

A few moments later, Karl steps out into the bedroom. His hair is damp, and a white towel is slung around his waist.

“I have to say, your shower is really nice,” he says, drying his hair with another towel. “It's—"

He stops when he sees how frantically I'm moving around. For a moment, he just stares at me with concern in his eyes.

"What's wrong?” he finally asks.

I can't speak. The words just won't come; it's too painful. After all of my hard work, after all of my blood, sweat, and tears, the Alpha party turned out to be a total failure.

Dozens of guests got sick with food poisoning, and I have no idea how that happened. I swear, my kitchen wasspotlessyesterday. My team and I know how to cook food properly. It makes absolutely no sense.

"Abby?" Karl says tentatively, taking a step closer.

Finally, I turn toward him, my phone in hand, and I can hardly believe what I'm about to show him. I swipe through my social media feed and bring up the posts that have sent my world spinning. “Just... Look at this,” I manage to say, my voice quivering as I hand him my phone.

Karl takes the phone with a raised eyebrow. But then, his eyes widen as he scrolls through the posts. The headlines are all variations of the same terrifying story—my food has made dozens of high- profile Alphas and Lunas sick at the Alpha gathering.

Hashtags and captions are coining this year's Alpha gathering as the worst in history, all thanks to me. I'm the culprit. Somehow, I'm the villain who intentionally tried to make everyone sick.

"How is this possible?” Karl mutters, his brows furrowed in disbelief. “Food poisoning? Are you sure that's what it is?”

I shrug. “Who knows at this point?” I ask incredulously as I button up my pants. “Everyone is sick.” “Not everyone,” Karl says. “You and I aren't sick.”

I shake my head, my mind racing to find an explanation. “I really don’t know,” I admit, frustration and fear welling up inside of me. “Maybe we didn't eat something that other people ate. That's the only logical explanation.”

Karl hands me back my phone, and I clutch it tightly, as if it's the only lifeline I have left. I take a deep breath, my mind racing through the events of the past day. And then it hits me—a chilling realization that makes my blood run cold.

“Wait,” I say slowly, my voice filled with dread. “Do you remember the day right before the cook-off when my entire staff got food poisoning when we had that party?”

Karl nods, a troubled look on his face. “Of course I remember,” he says

I continue, my thoughts racing. “Well, what if... what if this is connected somehow? What if someone is sabotaging me, trying to ruin my reputation?”

Karl's eyes narrow, his jaw clenching in anger. “Sabotage?” he repeats, his voice low and dangerous. “But who would do something like that? You think it's Daniel?”

I shake my head, feeling overwhelmed by the chaos of it all. “I don't know,” I admit, my voice trembling. “But after everything that's happened—food poisoning, the fire, the power going out, the burst pipe—I'm starting to wonder if there's someone out there who wants to see me fail.”

Karl steps closer to me, his expression fierce and protective. “If that's the case, then I'll help you figure this out, Abby,” he says. “I won't let some low-life ruin your reputation.”

I look up at him, gratitude welling up inside of me, but I can't allow him to help me with this. “Karl, this could be detrimental to you, too,” I point out. “Youof all people don't need my bad press affecting your status as Alpha.”

He stares at me for a moment, his eyes searching my face, but then he seems to understand. He says nothing, but he nods.

I pull away reluctantly, my mind returning to the urgent matter at hand. “I need to go to the restaurant immediately,” I say with a sigh. “I have to meet with the health inspector and Mr. Thompson. Maybe I can prove that it wasn't my fault.”

“Let me at least go with you,” Karl insists. “To at least support you.”

I shake my head, a pang of sadness filling me. “No, Karl,” I say firmly. “You need to get back to your pack. And it's an especially bad idea for you to be here with all of this going on.”

He shoots me a concerned look. “Are you sure?”

I nod. “I'll be fine. I'll call you as soon as I know anything.”

Karl nods, his gaze locked onto mine. “Okay,” he says, his voice filled with resignation. “But promise me you'll be careful at least? If shit starts to hit the fan, you should leave the city. People can be crazy, especially when they're hurt and angry.”

I reach up and give him a quick kiss on the cheek. “I'll be fine,” I say, although the words sound hollow even to me. “Don’t worry about me. And... thank you for last night.”

Without another word, I turn and run out the bedroom door, my mind racing with a million thoughts and worries.

"Wait!" Karl calls out, running after me. I stop just as I'm about to reach the front door, my hand on the doorknob, and turn to look at him. He reaches into his tuxedo pants pocket from last night and pulls out a blue surgical mask to hand to me.

“Here,” he says as I take the mask. “To keep yourself safe.”

I nod, slipping the mask around my ears. I grab my hooded jacket too, just to be extra cautious. “Thank you,” I murmur, my voice muffled through the mask.

Karl simply nods, a look of worry in his eyes. “Be safe,” he says gently, reaching out one last time to give my hand a squeeze. “Don't make me regret leaving you here.”

For a moment, I just look at him, feeling a sense of affection wash over me. It's endearing how much he cares, even when the very act of him being around me could ruin his own reputation.

But there's no time to waste. With a final nod, I slip out the door and run toward the subway, my heart pounding in my chest.

By the time I arrive at the restaurant a little while later, I can see that the health inspector and Mr. Thompson are already waiting outside. I slip my hood and my mask off, taking a deep breath to steel myself for what is sure to be a long and grueling investigation.

Their expressions are grim, and I can feel the weight of their disappointment before I even walk up the path.

Will I be able to redeem myself, or is my restaurant doomed to fail?

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