LOGINBryan sat in his study long after Victoria left, the dim light casting sharp shadows across the room. The rain had stopped, but its scent still lingered in the air — damp, cold, and heavy with unease.The fireplace flickered weakly, the glow reflecting off the glass of half-finished whiskey on his desk. It was silent, too silent, except for the faint ticking of the antique clock that seemed to mock his restlessness.His reflection in the window stared back at him: composed on the outside but burning underneath. Every decision he’d made in the last forty-eight hours replayed in his mind — Walter’s screams, Luna’s tears, Justine’s terrified expression.Bryan leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his hair. He had control over everything — the company, the family, the empire — but when it came to Luna, control slipped through his fingers like water.He whispered to the empty room, “She looked at me like I was a monster.”The words hung in the air, soft but sharp.And maybe she
Luna sat still long after Victoria stopped talking.The clock ticked softly on the wall, each sound stretching time into something unbearable.“Inherited darkness.”The words echoed through her mind like a curse.Her gaze drifted to the window — to the sky that seemed too bright, too calm, for the storm tearing through her chest.Bryan’s name lingered on her tongue like a wound she couldn’t stop touching.Victoria’s voice was gentle. “You’re quiet, babe.”Luna swallowed hard. “I just… I don’t know what to think, Vic. I thought Bryan’s anger — his violence — came from pain, from choices. But this—” her voice faltered, “this sounds like it’s in his blood.”Victoria reached for her hand, squeezing it. “It doesn’t mean he’s doomed to it. He’s still Bryan. The man you know.”Luna shook her head slowly. “The man I know?” Her voice broke, soft but trembling. “The man I know cared about people around him even though he calms not to. The man I know taught me how to swim. The man I know calls
Luna and Victoria had their breakfast in silence, while Luna’s mind kept running in circles, wondering what Victoria would tell her about Bryan’s past.As soon as they were done eating, Luna sat on the couch in her room, ready to know the reason behind it all.Victoria, seeing her eagerness, took a deep breath before sitting beside her.Then she began, “Bryan has what you can call an inherited darkness.”Victoria paused, scanning Luna’s face.Swallowing hard, Luna said, “I don’t understand what you mean by inherited darkness.”“Some cruelty is caused by trauma, or poverty, or any factor you could think of,” Victoria continued. “While some people are simply born wrong — charming, brilliant, but emotionally hollow.”“You’re confusing me, Vic. I don’t understand,” Luna said.“Just follow what I’m saying carefully; you’ll understand, okay?” Victoria replied, patting Luna’s hair gently.“You already know the Blackwoods come from a long line of aristocrats, entrepreneurs, and political elit
After leaving Luna's room, Bryan stood by the window in his study, staring into the garden as the rain kept falling. It was like it was matching his emotions.Luna’s absence gnawed at him, but he wouldn’t regret what he did because these were the things that made the man who he was.He whispered, almost to himself, “If love makes me weak… then let weakness be the fire that burns this family to ash.”The reflection in the glass showed a man he barely recognized — tired eyes, bloodied knuckles from last night’s punch, and a heart that would always still beat for her.Picking up his phone, he called the only person he knew that could get through to Luna.“Hey bro, how are you doing? You called me today — hope I’m safe,” Victoria said; her smile could be heard in her voice.“Veekee,” Bryan said.“What’s wrong? You sound— oh my goodness, you called me Veekee, not Victoria. Something’s wrong,” Victoria said.She knew when Bryan called her Veekee it meant he was sad, angry, or had something
By noon, it began to rain. Soft at first, then steady — like the sky itself had grown heavy with Luna’s emotions.Luna sat by her window, knees drawn to her chest, watching the droplets trail down the glass in uneven lines. The world outside looked blurred, as if refusing to take a clear shape — much like her thoughts.Her phone buzzed again.Bryan.For the fifth time since she left him in the garden earlier that morning.She didn’t pick up.She knew he was calling for her to come down and eat, but she just couldn’t get herself to move.Each call made her chest tighten, but she couldn’t bring herself to hear his voice. Not yet. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw him standing in that torture room — fury in his eyes, ready to kill anything that stood in his way.But then she also saw the way his hands had trembled when he reached for her — the way his voice cracked when he called her princess.Her mind was a battlefield between fear and love.And both were losing.The knock on her
The morning sun crept gently over the mansion, pouring soft light across the marble floors and the endless stretch of the garden. Birds sang somewhere in the distance, their voices delicate and out of place in a home that had seen too much darkness. Luna sat on the edge of the stone bench, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. The garden had always been her favorite place — it was peaceful, quiet, safe. But today, even the flowers seemed to look at her differently, bending slightly under the Saturday morning breeze like they, too, were unsure of what to say. She hadn’t slept much. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw that room — the metal walls, the smell of disinfectant, the sound of her own heart racing when Bryan had walked into the torture room, his presence cold and dangerous. And Walter. The mocking laughter, the way Bryan’s face had twisted when he raised the knife… too prefect like he had done this a thousand times. She pressed a hand to her chest, trying to steady he







