บททั้งหมดของ Breaking The Spotlight: บทที่ 141 - บทที่ 150

The ovation still lingered in her bones. Luna had walked offstage the night before with her body trembling, not from nerves, but from release, the kind that came when a person poured every wound, every scar, every rebirth into a song that belonged to no one but them.The press was already calling it The Phoenix Performance. Clips had gone viral before she even left the theater. Raw, stripped down, unpolished in a way that cut deeper than any glossy single ever could. She hadn’t hidden behind the industry’s lights or the weight of production. She had simply stood there, with Adrian at her side, and dared the world to see her.And the world had bowed, but enemies didn’t bow, they recalculated.Luna sat curled on the sofa in Adrian’s penthouse the next morning, still wrapped in the adrenaline haze, scrolling through endless reactions. Her phone buzzed relentlessly, producers begging for interviews, fans flooding her inbox with support, critics retracting weeks of venom. For once, the noi

The attack came on a Tuesday morning. Luna had barely rolled out of bed when her phone buzzed itself into a fit of hysteria. Hundreds of notifications stacked like dominos, spilling across the screen, mentions, tags, messages. She didn’t have to click to know. She could feel the storm brewing before she even opened a single post.Adrian was already standing at the floor-to-ceiling windows of their penthouse, his shirt sleeves rolled, jaw locked tight, his phone pressed to his ear. His entire body was a wall of cold, controlled fury, the kind that promised disaster for anyone stupid enough to provoke him.“Pull the article. Now. No, I don’t give a damn about your advertisers. If you run with Daniel Vega’s statement again, you’ll regret it. Don’t test me.”He ended the call without a goodbye, his phone clattering onto the marble counter as his hands raked through his hair.“Luna.” His voice softened when he turned toward her. That was how she knew it was bad, Adrian only lowered his gua

The penthouse was still heavy with the echoes of what they’d shared hours ago. The sheets smelled like sex and sweat and of a promise carved into skin, but mornings never allowed luxury for long. By the time sunlight fractured across the glass walls, the war outside had already sharpened its teeth.Adrian was awake before her, as always. Luna stirred to the low cadence of his voice, sharp and clipped, carrying the weight of empires. He stood at the end of the bed in nothing but dark slacks, his body taut, the phone glued to his ear as if the world would crumble if he let go.“Kill the piece before it circulates again. No, I don’t care if Vega’s lawyers threatened a lawsuit, file three in return. Find out who fed him those contracts, and if anyone else so much as whispers his narrative, blacklist them. Permanently.”He ended the call with a snap, his jaw a cut of granite, eyes burning like the city skyline behind him.“Morning,” Luna croaked, her voice raw.His head turned. In an insta

The sun hadn’t even broken the horizon when Luna’s phone started buzzing. At first, she ignored it. The night had left her drained, body aching, throat raw, the memory of Adrian’s touch lingering in every nerve. She wanted nothing more than to curl deeper into the sheets, into the warmth of his body sprawled beside her, and pretend the world didn’t exist, but the buzzing didn’t stop. It grew louder, longer, until finally she reached for the phone on the nightstand, squinting at the flood of notifications. Mentions. Shares. Headlines. Trending hashtags stacked one after the other.Her chest tightened. The title of the thread at the top nearly made her drop the device.LUNA REYES STRIPS BARE IN NEW SONG — FANS IN TEARSShe sat bolt upright, heart hammering. Her thumb trembled as she clicked one of the links, and the studio demo, the one she had recorded hours ago, the one raw and unfinished, the one she had poured her soul into, poured through the tiny speaker.The unpolished, raw, unpr

The morning air outside the recording studio was deceptively calm, the kind of pale sunlight that softened steel and glass, making even the city seem harmless. Luna pulled her hoodie up, tightened the strings, and told herself she could make it to the waiting car in under thirty seconds if she kept her head down.She should’ve known better. The moment the studio doors opened, the world erupted.“Luna! Luna, over here!”“Did Adrian Cross leak your single to manipulate the narrative?”“Were you really abused, or is this just another PR stunt?”The shouts collided like crashing waves. Cameras flashed, microphones shoved forward like spears. Luna froze for half a heartbeat, long enough for the pack to close in.Questions slashed at her from every direction.“Is it true Daniel Vega paid for your early demos? Did you use him to get famous?”“Fans are calling you a survivor, what exactly did you survive, Luna?”Her chest constricted. The air grew thick, unbreathable. She pushed forward, but