Chapter 4

Luna

Hardin didn't look like a joker. In fact, he looked like someone who was in for a very serious business. But as his words processed in my head, I labeled it as a scene from a comedy movie. Because where in hell did that come from? Who says that to a stranger out of the blue?

A hearty laugh erupted from me. "Your wife? Are you rehearsing for a character in a movie?" I asked, still laughing.

Hardin didn't join in my laughter. He kept a serious expression on his face, which only confused me more.

"Do I look like a joker to you?" he questioned.

"I think you do," I answered immediately. My eyes briefly glanced at his arm, now covered with a long-sleeve shirt, hiding away his injury. "And if not for the image of you that's installed so deeply in my head, I would have thought you weren't the same person I saved last night."

"Well, too bad I am. The wedding is taking place in two days. There won't be any ceremony or guests. Just paperwork."

"You're crazy if you think I'll fall for this bullshit!" I hissed.

Hardin sat up, his tall frame reminding me how intimidating he was. The image of him had disturbed my mental state since last night.

"I like that you think I'm crazy. You have from now until morning to get yourself prepared."

"Wait... are you serious right now? Is this your way of paying me back for helping you?"

For a split second, I saw a flicker of amusement on his lips. Folding his arms across his chest, he looked at me with a gaze that somehow sent shivers down my spine.

The space between us kept decreasing with each step Hardin took. He leaned in close—too close—making my head spin. I opened my mouth to speak, but no words seemed to come out. It was as if he had hypnotized me with his eyes.

"You don't have an option, Luna. I don't take no for an answer, and this marriage is going to happen."

His words weren't what made my heart race more than normal. It was the way his eyes fixated on me—dark, dangerous, and manipulative.

When he was sure he had silenced me with his sharp wits, he pulled back. Even then, my heart rate didn't slow down. He briefly glanced at his wristwatch—one I hadn't noticed before.

"You're leaving in thirty minutes. Until then, you can collect your thoughts."

He turned on his heels and walked to the door.

What exactly was going on? Did this man just brainwash me?

What is wrong with you, Luna?

"You need medical attention," I blurted out, getting off the bed and dashing toward him. "In fact, you need to be taken to a psychiatrist because where the hell did you come up with this shit?"

I didn't know how it happened, but suddenly, my back collided with the wall. A large frame covered mine, followed by a hand gripping my wrist.

"Are you—" The words hung in my throat as Hardin brought his face even closer. Way too close.

My heart immediately picked up speed, thudding abnormally fast. My sense of reasoning seemed to seize from my head. I was left standing there, caged in his body as if he had complete control over me.

And it was crazy—crazy that my body reacted to his proximity, that I felt weak from the little touch of this dangerous, borderline insane man.

"Why? Cat got your tongue? I thought you were going to hit me," he mocked.

And then he smirked.

And the craziest part? My mouth was still glued shut despite the voice in my head screaming at me to kick him where it hurts.

My breathing hitched even more when his fingers trailed down my cheek. And his eyes... fuck!

How could someone have such hypnotizing eyes? The way he was looking at me, it was as if he was undressing me with just his gaze. I felt exposed.

"A wedding dress will look pretty on you," he murmured.

That snapped me back to my senses, reminding me that I wasn't supposed to be affected by this lunatic. Instead, I should be finding a way to escape.

Taking him by surprise, I kicked him in the groin, forcing him to let go of my wrist. Shock flickered across his face—clearly not expecting me to be this bold.

I had always been bold. I wasn't a nurse with a weak heart.

A smug smile spread across my lips. "What? You didn't expect me to kick your dick?" My eyes shifted to his injured arm. "Maybe I should have kicked your wound instead."

"That would have been great. You'd be the one to stitch me up again—as the loving wife."

He said it in such a way that triggered even more anger in me.

"In your dreams, sir. If you think you'll ever see me again after today, then you're completely delusional," I spat, turning toward the door.

But before I could step out, his next words stopped me in my tracks, sending my heart into overdrive.

"Trust me, Luna. You are going to be my wife."

I turned to him angrily. "And I never will. Go to hell, asshole!"

It took me some time to find my way out of Hardin's apartment—or rather, his mansion. The entire place was guarded by men in black suits, who were probably hiding guns underneath their sharp attire.

The encounter with Hardin and his words wouldn't stop replaying in my head.

That man was insane. Was this supposed to be his way of repaying me for helping him? I guess I had helped the wrong man.

Stopping in front of my apartment, I looked around, suddenly paranoid that Hardin or his men might have followed me.

I was going to curl up in my house and pretend I had never met him. I had a boyfriend I was looking forward to spending the rest of my life with—not some dangerous man who lurked behind the cameras of the world.

My home had always been a safe haven, but today, it felt extra safe. I was used to being alone, to finding comfort within these walls.

Dropping my bag on the table, I crashed onto my single-seater sofa.

The first-aid kit I had used to stitch up Hardin's wound was still there. The living room still carried traces of his scent.

I hated that coming home still reminded me of him. In such a short time, he had somehow occupied most of my space.

Pulling out my phone, I was met with tons of missed calls and messages—all from Jason. He must have been worried sick when I left in the middle of our dinner.

I immediately dialed his number, but it didn't go through.

I tried a second time. Same result.

Sighing, I sent him a text, assuring him that I was home and okay.

Leaning back, I stared at the old ceiling of my room.

Everything would go back to normal.

I wouldn't see Hardin again.

All of this would be like a bad dream.

At least, that's what I thought.

Until the next morning—when a car pulled up in front of the hospice.

And a familiar face stepped out.

With a smirk I hated so much.

That was when I knew—I had made the worst mistake of my life by helping Hardin.

Apart from the fact that guilt was eating me up for having to lie to Jason when he called this morning—I told him I had a runny stomach, which was why I left—I also felt a sense of relief knowing that he would be out of the country for a few weeks due to his new project. Jason is a contractual architect.

And now, Hardin was back again, making me even more nervous and anxious than I already was. On top of that, he was right in front of my workplace. At first, I planned on ignoring him, but when I caught sight of Rachel approaching, I quickly opened the door and hopped in. I didn't want anyone seeing me with him.

"Can we leave from here?" I said, turning to look at him. Hardin didn't respond; he only kept looking at me.

"Drive!" I snapped.

"If I ignite this car, we are going straight to the lawyer's office."

My mouth fell open in shock. I think I'd rather be seen by Rachel than listen to a crazy person like him.

Gripping the door handle, I proceeded to get out, but the next thing he said halted my movements.

"By helping me, you have endangered your life. My enemies are lurking around."

"What?" I turned to face him. "Are you kidding me? What does that have to do with me? I only helped because it was the right thing to do," I explained.

Hardin adjusted his sitting position, the smirk on his face unwavering. And I hated how he looked at me as if he could see right through me. I hated it when people thought they knew me when they didn't. Hardin was one of them.

"Your help comes with a big price. And that is abiding by the rules."

I rolled my eyes and let out a bitter laugh. "Fuck your so-called rules. If you think your stunt will move me, then you're mistaken! Go marry yourself for all I care!"

For the second time, I reached for the door handle, ready to leave and get as far away as I could from this man. But it turned out he had more tricks up his sleeve.

"The hospice...." He started, his eyes shifting outside.

"...I heard the hospice is going through a huge debt lately."

"How—"

"It needs a new investor to keep it running. Someone to save it from shutting down. And I heard the hospice is like your second family. What do you think will happen if it gets shut down? Or worse, if someone else takes control of it?"

My blood boiled. Anger shimmered inside me. I curled my hands into fists. I was an educated person, so I knew exactly what Hardin was getting at.

"What if I save it from being taken away or shut down?"