All Chapters of Captured By The Powerful Mr. Moore: His Forbidden Claim : Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

In Harford City, the sky was overcast—a dull, heavy gray that mirrored the solemnity of the day. The air carried the scent of incense and fresh flowers, clinging to everything like a memory refusing to fade. The Moore family stood before the twin graves of Benjamin and Vivianne Moore. The marble headstones were tall, pristine, unyielding. Their names carved into stone remained untouched by time, yet they had shaped every second of Grayson’s life.Grayson stood still, a figure of icy composure, his hands buried deep in the pockets of his black long coat. His expression was unreadable, carved in stone like the names before him. Beside him, his grandfather Henry remained as rigid and dignified as ever, his gaze rooted on the graves with a heaviness age had not diminished. Behind them, Melissa, Hunter, and Natalie formed a quiet line—heads slightly bowed, postures respectful but distant.Every year, it was the same.The same rituals.The same hollow words of remembrance.The same unbearab

Aurora shifted slightly, her body aching in ways she had never known before. A dull throb pulsed through her limbs, each movement a reminder of the night before. But the unbearable soreness between her legs made her wince. It felt as if she had been shattered, torn apart by the man who had taken everything from her.Grayson. His name echoed in her mind, bringing back flashes of heat, pain, and something she didn't dare to think. Her fingers brushed against the sheets, their warmth long faded. She turned her head and finally noticed it.The space beside her was empty.Her heart gave a slow, heavy thud.He was gone.Aurora stared at the vacant spot where he had been, where his body had pressed against hers. He had burned through her like fire, fierce and consuming. Now he was gone simply, leaving nothing behind but silence. The sheets were cold. No lingering warmth. No sign that he had ever been there.Her chest tightened and a dull ache settling deep inside her.So that was it.Afte

Aurora had just finished her breakfast, but the food settled uneasily in her stomach. Edith had quietly gone about helping her freshen up, her movements precise and efficient. Despite her calm demeanor, Aurora couldn't help but sense a subtle shift in the older woman's attention. Edith's usual sharpness softened just enough to hint at pity, though she never openly expressed it.Once done, Edith gave a curt nod and left the room. Aurora remained seated on the edge of the bed, her hands nervously twisting the sheets as she tried to quiet the storm of thoughts racing through her mind. But as if on cue, the door opened again.Grayson stepped inside her bedroom.Aurora's heart skipped a beat. His commanding presence filled the room, and in his hand was a small jar. Its purpose still unclear to her, but the sight of it made her stomach churn. She couldn’t explain why, but something about it made her feel uneasy, a chill running down her spine.He crossed the room unhurriedly while his ga

Aurora had already freshened up after her morning bath. She sat on the edge of the bed while her gaze drifting toward the table near the floor-to-ceiling window. A box of painting tools sat there, the sunlight glinting faintly off the fine materials. She rose and walked to the table, opening the box again. Her eyes softened at the sight of the neatly arranged brushes and colors. She was grateful for Edith's generosity. Though the middle-aged woman always looked stern, she had a kind heart behind that tough exterior. Her quiet moment was interrupted by a soft knock at the door. It opened a moment later, and Grayson stepped inside. Her heart thudded wildly at the sight of him. He wore a deep blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up, the fabric clinging to his toned frame. His tall figure radiated quiet authority and nobility as he closed the door behind him. His gaze slid toward her, sharp and penetrating. Aurora swallowed, suddenly aware of the rising tension in the room. Her pulse

The bristles of Aurora’s brush moved slowly across the canvas, gliding over soft strokes of blue and white. Her fingers trembled slightly as the sea bled into the sky. The waves crashed gently against the shore, the wind rustling through palm trees above her like a whispered lullaby.She sat cross-legged on the sand, barefoot, sunlight warming her skin. Just a few feet away, Grayson reclined on a black cloth spread across the beach, legs stretched out, a glass of champagne resting loosely in his hand. But his eyes weren’t on the ocean or the painting.They were on her.Not just watching—but studying. The way her brows drew together when she concentrated. The way her wrist flicked delicately when she blended a shadow into the surf. The way her chest rose and fell with each breath, slow and steady, like she’d forgotten he was there.But she hadn’t.Aurora could feel him. Every time his gaze swept over her, it left something behind. Heat. Awareness. Her hand faltered. The brush hesitated