ログインLUNA POVMy head throbbed.I opened my eyes, blinking against the harsh morning light filtering through the bedroom curtains. I reached out blindly, my hand patting the mattress next to me.It was flat. Cold.I pushed myself up, rubbing my temples. The dull ache of the hangover was heavy. I looked at the empty pillow beside me. The space felt incredibly hollow, but I pushed the covers off and forced myself out of bed. I took a quick shower, dressed in a simple oversized sweater and jeans, and walked downstairs.The house was too quiet. There were no guards stationed in the hallway, no maids moving around the kitchen.I walked toward the living room.Killian was sitting on the large leather sofa.My footsteps slowed to a stop. I paused, genuinely surprised. It had been months since I last saw him wearing a full suit and a perfectly knotted tie. The last time he dressed like this, we were still living at the Alatorre mansion. His posture was rigid, his broad shoulders squared and tense
Killian held her gaze. He didn't look away, hiding absolutely nothing from her. "Yes." The single word hit Luna hard. A physical shock rippled through her shoulders. The realization that he would have believed her, if he had only stopped his cruelty long enough to ask, seemed to crush the last of her defenses. The heavy emotional crash, combined with the alcohol in her system, finally caught up to her. Her knees buckled slightly, her legs losing the strength to hold her up. Killian moved instantly. He slipped his arms around her waist, catching her before she could fall. She didn't protest. She just let her head drop against his chest, her breathing turning slow and heavy with pure exhaustion. He carried her the short distance to the bed and laid her down gently. He unbuckled her black heels, set them on the floor, and pulled the thick duvet over her shoulders. Leaning down, he pressed his lips gently to her forehead, then pressed a feather-light kiss over her closed left eye, an
"I did," Killian whispered, his voice rough. "Every day."The silence in the bedroom grew heavy. Luna stared up at him, her hands still gripping the collar of his dark shirt. The alcohol made her eyes glassy, but the pain swimming in them was entirely sober.She slowly shook her head, her fingers trembling against his chest."Liar," she breathed. The word cracked in the quiet room.Killian did not get angry. He did not pull away or shut down. He just stood there, letting her hold him accountable. He slowly raised his hands. His knuckles were raw and split open from the fight at the club, but his touch was incredibly soft as he cupped her face. He rested his large palms against her warm cheeks, his thumbs gently wiping away the tears spilling over her eyelashes."I am a lot of things, Luna," Killian said softly. "But I will not lie to you. Not anymore."Luna’s breath hitched. She didn't pull away from his hands."When I took you," Killian said, his voice dropping low, stripping away th
Killian stopped instantly. He dropped the bleeding man and stood up.Luna stared at him. Her eyes were wide, glazed from the alcohol, realizing he was actually here. Killian’s gaze traveled up and down her body, checking every inch of her. He just needed to make sure she was not hurt.Marco pushed through the crowd with the security team, taking control of the unconscious men on the floor.Maxim was still nowhere in sight. Killian looked back down at Luna. She reached out and took his hand, her fingers shaking slightly.Mila stepped forward from the booth. She looked at Killian with peculiar, suspicious eyes. "Who are you?""I know him," Luna said quickly, cutting her off.Mila frowned, her gaze shifting to Luna with deep concern. "Are you hurt somewhere?""No," Luna said quietly. "I am safe."Killian tightened his grip on her hand and led her away from the flashing lights.The car ride back to the esta
The private VIP lounge of Neon sat suspended above the main club, enclosed by a wall of thick, soundproof glass. Killian stood by the window, looking down at the massive, crowded dance floor. Neon belonged to him. In fact, almost every profitable nightclub in Russia operated under his syndicate. He was supposed to hold this meeting at a quiet, secure location across the city, but he shifted it here at the last minute. He was guilty of making an excuse. He promised to give Luna space, and he refused to step down there and ruin her night, but her safety remained his absolute priority. He needed to watch over her. He needed to know she was safe. Behind him, five prominent business clients sat around a leather booth, discussing the logistics of a new shipment. Killian ignored them. His attention belonged to the girl in the black dress sitting in the booth below. For the first time since he met her, he watched Lun
Two hours later, my phone buzzed with a text from Maxim. I slipped into the black heels, grabbed the handbag, and walked downstairs.Maxim waited by his sports car in the circular driveway. When I stepped out the front doors, his blue eyes widened slightly. A genuine, impressed smile crossed his face as he took in the black dress."You look amazing, Luna," Maxim said, opening the passenger door for me."Thank you," I murmured, sliding into the leather seat.We drove into the city as the sun finally set. When we arrived at Neon, Maxim guided us straight to the front of a long line. The moment we stepped through the doors, a wave of heavy bass vibrated straight through my boots. Flashing blue and purple lights swept over a massive, crowded dance floor.I stayed close to Maxim's shoulder as he navigated us through the sea of moving bodies toward a raised VIP booth, where Anya, Mila, and Lev were already sitting."Luna!" Anya shouted over the deafening music, pulling me into a tight hug.
Pain woke me.Sharp and specific, sitting low in my stomach where my father's boot had landed two nights ago. I lay still, breathing carefully around it, staring at the ornate ceiling until the worst of it dulled to a manageable ache.The room was freezing. Volkov kept the temperature cold. Always c
The Drawing Room smelled like a funeral home trying to disguise itself as a celebration.Lilies. Too many of them. Massive white blooms in crystal vases on every available surface, their heavy, cloying scent thick enough to coat the back of my throat and make me want to gag.Father sat on the velvet
My lips were burning.I stood in front of the bathroom mirror with both hands gripping the edge of the porcelain sink, knuckles white from the pressure. The washcloth I'd been using lay crumpled in the basin, stained a sickly pink where my lipstick had mixed with the blood from where I'd scrubbed my
The knock wasn't Volkov's.His knock was heavy. Controlled. A single firm rap that made the door vibrate.This was different. Sharp. Hollow. The knock of someone afraid to deliver bad news.I sat on the edge of my bed, staring at the empty armchair in the corner.It was past midnight.Volkov had lef







