Maia Schultz Facebook ad: “He banished her to the guest wing to hide his mistress……”

About this ad

Meta Ad Library ID

938056782266738

Platforms

Facebook and Instagram

Relaunches

1

Niche

AI & Software

How we count

Ad text

The morning sun filtered through the sheer curtains, casting long, pale shadows across the bedroom floor. I lay still, feigning sleep, listening to the sounds of Charles getting ready. The rustle of his tactical gear, the zip of his boots—it was a performance of duty. "Emilia," he said, his voice rough as he leaned over the bed. I opened my eyes, blinking slowly, forcing my expression into a mask of submissive fatigue. "I have to head out. Border patrol. There have been reports of rogue activity near the northern ridge. Don't wait up." "Be safe, Alpha," I whispered, the title tasting like ash in my mouth. He didn't kiss me. He just patted my shoulder—a dismissive, patronizing touch—and strode out of the room. I waited until I heard the heavy thud of the front door and the roar of his SUV fading down the driveway before I threw off the covers. My heart was pounding, not with fear, but with a cold, focused adrenaline. Charles thought I was just the pampered daughter of the Lycan King, a woman who cared more about tea parties than technology. He forgot who raised me. I grabbed my phone and opened the family tracking app. We had installed it years ago for safety, a standard protocol for high-ranking pack members. He probably thought I didn't know how to bypass the basic filters, or perhaps his arrogance simply led him to believe I wouldn't dare check up on him. The little blue dot representing his SUV moved steadily away from the Pack House. I watched, breath held, as it approached the turnoff for the northern ridge—and drove right past it. "Liar," I hissed. The dot continued south, crossing the invisible boundary line of our territory and entering the neutral zone. It finally came to a stop at "The Midnight Moon," a secluded café popular for illicit meetings because pack jurisdiction didn't apply there. I didn't cry. I didn't scream. I went to my closet, bypassing my silk dresses and designer coats. I pulled out a nondescript gray hoodie and a pair of worn jeans I used for gardening. I tied my hair back and grabbed the keys to the gardener’s old sedan, a vehicle so invisible no one would look twice at it. The drive was a blur of gray highway and white-hot rage. When I pulled into the gravel lot of The Midnight Moon, I parked three rows back, slumped low in the seat. I pulled the hood up, masking my face and dampening my scent, and walked toward the café. The bell above the door chimed softly. The place smelled of stale coffee and damp wood, but cutting through it all was that scent. Vanilla. Cheap musk. It was a trail of breadcrumbs leading straight to hell. I slid into a corner booth, keeping my back to the room, and angled a small compact mirror on the table so I could see the reflection of the booth by the window. There he was. Charles sat relaxed, a smile on his face that I hadn't seen directed at me in years. It wasn't the polite smile of a politician; it was the hungry, doting look of a man obsessed. Across from him sat a girl who couldn't have been more than twenty-two. She had wild, curly hair and wore a tight crop top that left little to the imagination. Jordyn. I didn't know her name then, but I knew her type. Hungry. Desperate to be someone. I watched as Charles reached into his jacket pocket. My stomach dropped as he pulled out a velvet box. He slid it across the table. The girl squealed, clapping her hands before tearing it open. She lifted the diamond tennis bracelet—the very one from the receipt I had found—and draped it over her wrist. It glittered offensively in the dim light. I focused my hearing, tuning out the clatter of cups and the murmur of other patrons. My Lycan blood allowed me to pick up their whispers as if I were sitting right beside them. "It's beautiful, Charles," she purred, leaning forward to stroke his hand. "It looks like something a Luna would wear." Charles chuckled, his thumb rubbing her knuckles. "You deserve it more than she does. You appreciate me." "I can't wait," she whispered, her voice dropping to a sultry hum. "I can't wait until I'm the one sitting by your side at the Pack House, Alpha. Until everyone knows." "Soon," Charles promised. "Just be patient." Read now to see how she takes revenge! #BetrayalStory #StrongFemaleLead #Revenge #HeartWrenchingRomance #WomenFiction #LifeAfterBetrayal #MustReadStory

Where the ad sends people

h5-fb-usa-xz-604.rocnovel.com

He banished her to the guest wing to hide his mistress… not realizing she was already watching from the shadows, ready to strike.