Unveil

|PREQUEL|

I was a happy teenager, cocooned in the illusion of a perfect life. My father, my hero, spoiled me like every loving father should. My mother? She loved me in her own way, as much as she could manage.

It wasn't until I turned eighteen that I realized just how privileged I had been. I lived in a house, sheltered from the world's ugliness, with every important decision made for me. My sister..sweet, quiet, kind..stood as a contrast to the chaos of the outside world.

I was well-fed, smothered in gifts, wrapped in love. I wish I had cherished those moments more, those fleeting days of childhood innocence, when my greatest worry was an upcoming test, and my mother's warm meals soothed every ache.

But my teenage years were a stark contrast to my childhood. My childhood was a nightmare wrapped in pretty paper.

I could still recall the stench of that tiny, suffocating laundry room where I was locked in as punishment. The dim, claustrophobic space, the damp air thick with mildew. I had cried myself hoarse, my small fists banging against the cold door. My mother? She had turned a blind eye. My grandparents? They were worse. Crueler. When my mother was gone for work, they reigned over me with iron fists and sharp tongues. It was because of them that I endured the things I did. And it became a routine..a twisted, dark routine.

Then, the first year of university arrived, and everything changed. We escaped that house, severed ties, and started anew. For the first time, I tasted freedom. It was exhilarating.

That's when I met Luna. The only person who would ever truly see me.

Luna Marshall Grace. The sweet, clever girl who became my only friend.

Back then, life was simpler. I dated a boy..Rick James. A good guy, harmless, forgettable. I wonder where he is now. We had our laughs, shared our dreams, entertained fantasies about the future. I dreaded the thought of an actual job.

By my second year, Luna had found love.

Zenon King Dufort.

The Dufort family was whispered about in hushed tones. Respected. Feared. People spoke of their wealth, their business empire, their success. But there was something else, something unspoken. Their influence was unsettling, their presence a shadow that loomed over the city. Their name was linked to things best left unmentioned.

Zenon was twenty-one. Studied business..something that suited his cold, calculating nature. I never cared much for the details. They met at a wedding. One week later, she was his. Completely.

Zenon was the type of man sculpted by gods and tormented by demons. Towering, broad-shouldered, lean muscle draped over a frame that spoke of quiet, restrained violence. Dark hair. Dark eyes. Tattoos that whispered stories on his skin. And a face void of expression, empty like a bottomless void.

Unapproachable. Untouchable.

But with Luna, he was different. For her, he softened. For her, his walls cracked just enough to let her light seep in. I watched it happen..watched him unravel, watched him surrender to something deeper than obsession. Love? Maybe. Something darker? Definitely.

I tolerated him because I had to. He never acknowledged me, not really. To him, I was nothing. A background character in his all-consuming story with Luna.

I knew there was something wrong with him the moment I met him.

But oh, Luna..she made that man kneel.

Our friendship, surprisingly, remained intact. I was the third wheel, tolerated only because Luna willed it. Rides home in his car were silent affairs. He ignored my presence entirely. And I was fine with that.

Until the day Luna got sick.

He found me outside the university, surrounded by friends. The second they saw him, they scattered like frightened sheep. I stayed, rooted in place, heart hammering as his dark gaze settled on me.

"Where is she?"

Three months of knowing him, and those were the first words he ever spoke to me.

I gave him her address, hesitating before asking if I could come along. He didn't care either way.

At Luna's house, her father hesitated before opening the door, his expression shifting from surprise to something else..fear.

Zenon walked in as if he owned the place, leaving me outside with my confusion. What the hell? Why would a grown man fear him?

Something was off.

Inside, he cradled Luna like she was glass. Brushed his lips against her forehead as she pouted.

"A cold? Why would you be worried about a cold? I just had too many iced coffees."

Her voice, soft, teasing. I stood at the threshold, an outsider. Her father sat downstairs, stiff and silent. The air was thick with something unspoken.

I turned to leave. But then..

"Where's Josie?"

Hearing her ask for me..after all, after him..was unexpected.

I smiled. "Hey, sorry, I gotta head home. My mom called me. Take care, yeah?"

She pouted. Zenon watched me. Something in his gaze made my stomach twist.

That was the first time I felt dread when he looked at me.

Months passed. Luna lived her fairytale. Pretty face. Perfect boyfriend. Bright future.

I lived on my own terms. I worked at a dingy diner, making coffee for the miserable. I didn't need the job, but I liked the escape.

And then there was Liam.

Liam, the charming fuckboy. Lean, dark-haired, full of stupid jokes. He was a distraction, nothing more. We drove for hours, parked in abandoned places, and lost ourselves in fleeting pleasures. No emotions. No ties. Just two broken people using each other.

Luna disapproved.

"Stop hanging out with men who don't respect you!" she had yelled.

I had laughed in her face.

"I don't care about that, honey. I take what I want and leave. I'm not built for commitment."

She tried to save me from myself. But some people aren't meant to be saved.

And then... she was gone.

Luna Marshall Grace.

The girl who promised she'd always be there.

Now, she was just a name on a headstone.

I stared at the engraving, fists clenched. My hands trembled as I held the pink roses..why pink? I didn't even know what flowers she liked.

How could she just... leave?

How?

She was just here. Two days ago, smiling, laughing, planning the future.

Now she was gone.

And Zenon...

Zenon King Dufort was not the same.

Neither was I.