MasukKillian 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.
LUNA POVThe midday sun warmed the university courtyard, casting long shadows across the grass. I sat cross-legged with my notebook resting on my lap, quietly listening to Lev and Maxim argue over the ending of a movie they watched the night before.Anya suddenly clapped her hands together, demanding our attention."Alright, enough about the movie," she announced, a bright, excited smile taking over her face. "Tonight is the night. My birthday. I booked a booth at Neon, so I expect all of you to be dressed up and ready by nine."Mila nodded, taking a slow sip of her coffee. "I already picked out my outfit."Anya turned her bright eyes toward me. "Luna? You are coming, right?"I paused, my pen hovering over the paper. The mere thought of stepping into a crowded, loud nightclub sent a spike of anxiety through my chest. My life existed behind locked iron gates, quiet estates, and formal mafia galas. I never actually set foot inside a real nightclub before."I think I will just go home af
I did not know how long we stood in the rain. The cold drops soaked my hair and dripped down my coat, but I stayed buried against his chest, anchored by his solid warmth. Slowly, my breathing steadied. I took a shaky breath and stepped back. The cold air rushed into the space between us. Killian let his arms fall to his sides. Before either of us spoke, a dark figure approached through the gray mist. It was one of Killian’s guards. The man walked up quietly, holding a dozen fresh white roses. I looked at the man, my brow furrowing in confusion. Killian reached out and took four roses from the guard's hands. He gave a single nod, and the man stepped back. He took a few steps past my mother’s resting place. I followed him. Right there, resting in the same quiet section of grass, were four more marble headstones arranged in a neat row. I stepped up beside him and looked down at the names carved into the smooth stone. Nikolai Alatorre. Svetlana Alatorre. Damon Alatorre.
My mother.The shock hit me so hard my mind just blanked. After Dario beat her to death in front of me, I never saw her again. I didn't even get to see her body when I woke up in the hospital. I begged Dario to let me see her, just to know where she rested. He slapped me. I got beaten so many times I forgot to count, just for asking to see my own mother's grave. He never told me. For fourteen years, she was lost in the dark.And now, she was right here.My vision blurred. My hands started to tremble as I looked up at Killian. The question screamed in my eyes—How?—but my mouth refused to open.Killian read my face. He kept his distance, his voice low and steady."I got her location from Dario," Killian said quietly. "She was in an unmarked grave near Palermo. I ordered my men to bring her here, so you could visit her."He stepped forward, gently laying the bouquet of white lilies at the base of the marble headstone. Then, he immediately took two steps back, keeping his head bowed to gi
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







