Before Luna truly step out of the room, Nick called her name again.“Luna.”Her hand froze midair, fingers just brushing the cold brass doorknob. For a brief second, she considered ignoring him. But something in his tone—low, measured, almost careful—made her pause.“What?! What now?!!” Luna snapped, turning her head sharply. Her cheeks were still flushed, not only from anger but from the humiliation of that absurd conversation about babies and price tags.Nick leaned casually against the edge of the bed, though his eyes betrayed something far more serious than his relaxed posture suggested. He studied her—really studied her—as if memorizing the way fury sharpened her delicate features.“Can’t you speak calmly to me?” he asked, the corner of his lips twitching.“No! I can't!”Her answer came instantly. No hesitation. No diplomacy.Nick let out a short breath that might have been a suppressed laugh. The tension in the room thickened, yet underneath it was something dangerously close to
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