Semua Bab THE ACCIDENTAL BRIDE: Bab 11 - Bab 16

The morning sun filtered through the gossamer curtains of Luna's suite, casting golden patterns across the Persian rug. She stood before the full-length mirror, her reflection a stranger in silk pajamas. The fairy-tale garden from the night before seemed like a dream now—Grayson's confession, their first real kiss, the promise of something genuine.But Detective Roberts' words echoed in her mind like a death knell: Luna Winters. Missing for twenty years.A soft knock interrupted her spiraling thoughts. "Come in," she called, expecting Mrs. Patel with breakfast.Instead, Grayson entered, still in his running clothes, hair damp with sweat. His gray eyes immediately found hers in the mirror, and she watched his expression shift from warmth to concern."You're up early," he said, approaching slowly. "Couldn't sleep?"Luna turned from the mirror, wrapping her arms around herself. "I keep thinking about last night. About us.""Having second thoughts?" The question came out rougher than he i

The days that followed blurred together in a haze of stilted conversations and careful distances. Luna found herself watching Grayson like a stranger, analyzing every gesture for signs of deception. He, in turn, treated her with the same polite formality he showed his business associates—kind but distant, protective but removed.Three days after Detective Roberts' visit, Marcus knocked on Luna's suite door with his usual precise timing."Mrs. Vaughn? Mr. Vaughn requests your presence in his office."The formal address stung, it felt foreign. She'd grown used to Marcus calling her Luna sometimes, a small intimacy that had felt like acceptance into Grayson's inner circleShe found Grayson behind his desk, staring at a stack of documents. He looked up when she entered, and she was struck by how tired he appeared. Dark circles shadowed his eyes, and his usually immaculate appearance was slightly disheveled."You wanted to see me?" she asked, hovering near the door."I had Marcus research

Luna didn't sleep that night. She sat curled in the window seat, staring at the photograph until her eyes burned. The woman in the picture had her face, her smile, but there was something different in her expression—a contentment that Luna had never seen in her own reflection. The kind of peace that came from carrying new life, from believing in a future worth building.The man beside her mother wore a white lab coat, his face partially turned away from the camera. He looked familiar somehow, though Luna couldn't place him. Was he still alive? Did he know what had happened to her mother? To the baby?She'd searched her memories until her head pounded, but found nothing. No recollection of her mother being pregnant, no dreams of a baby sister or brother. The child in her mother's womb would have been born around the time of the disappearance—if they'd survived at all.But which child was she looking at in this photograph? Was the baby her mother carried the Luna who sat here now, or ha