All Chapters of No Longer Your Luna: Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

Lena's POV I shouldn't have given him advice. That was the first rule of professional boundaries. Don't get involved in clients' personal lives. Don't offer guidance beyond your scope of work. But I had. And now I was invested in whether his custody battle went well. Damien hired a new lawyer. Klein told me about it. A woman from the city. Aggressive. Experienced. Someone who knew how to build a case. The next day, Damien came to the cottage with documentation. Photos of him with Kelvin. Receipts from activities. Notes from conversations. He was building evidence. He was preparing. He showed it all to me. "Is this enough?" he asked. "No," I said. "You need more. You need witnesses. People who can testify that you're a good father. That you're present. That Victoria is the one who's unstable." "Who would testify?" he asked. "Klein," I said. "He's your Beta. He knows you. He can speak to your character." "Anyone else?" he asked. I thought about it. "Your father," I said.

Lena's POV I didn't sleep that night. I sat in my bedroom listening to the sounds of the house. The settling of old wood. The hum of the refrigerator. The silence that comes at three in the morning. He had said he loved me. And I had locked him out. At some point, I heard his car leave. I went to the window and watched him drive away. Watched the red taillights disappear into the darkness. Then I cried. Xena came by the next morning with coffee and fresh pastries. She took one look at me and knew. "What happened?" she asked. I told her. She listened without interrupting. Just sat across from me in my kitchen and listened to me fall apart. "So you're in love with him," she said when I finished. "I'm not," I said. "You are," she said. "And that terrifies you." "Of course it terrifies me," I said. "I spent three years building a life where I didn't need anyone. Where I was independent. Where I had power." "You still have that," Xena said. "Having someone lo

Lena's POV My mother came to visit. She arrived on a Thursday afternoon. Nadia drove her. They stayed for dinner. My mother walked through the farmhouse like she was seeing it for the first time. "This is remarkable," she said. "You built all of this." "Yes," I said. We sat on the porch after dinner. Nadia was inside reading. My mother and I were alone. "Are you happy?" my mother asked. "Yes," I said. But the word felt hollow. "Are you?" she asked again. "Because you don't look happy. You look accomplished. You look powerful. But you don't look happy." I didn't respond. "Lena," my mother said, "I spent years sick. Years fighting to survive. And you know what I learned?" "What?" I asked. "That accomplishment without love is just a beautiful prison," she said. "You can have everything and still feel empty." "I'm not empty," I said. "Aren't you?" she asked. "You have a successful business. You have money. You have power. But you don't have anyone to share it

Lena's POV Pregnancy was nothing like I expected. I was tired. Constantly. My body was changing in ways that felt foreign. My ankles swelled. My back ached. My emotions were all over the place. Damien handled it with patience. When I cried because my jeans didn't fit anymore, he held me. When I was exhausted at three in the afternoon, he sent me to rest. When I wanted pickles and ice cream at midnight, he got them without question. "This is temporary," he said one evening as I complained about my swollen feet. "In a few months, we'll have our daughter." "Our daughter," I repeated. The words still felt unreal. My business continued growing. I had to hire more staff. Had to delegate more responsibilities. Xena was managing day-to-day operations. Nadia was handling contracts and client relations. I was learning to let go of control. It was harder than I expected. Damien's custody arrangement with Kelvin was solid now. He had his son every other week. Sometimes more

Lena's POVComing home with Hope felt surreal.We brought her to the cottage. Damien had prepared everything. The nursery was perfect. The house was clean. He had stocked the refrigerator with food that didn't require cooking."I don't know what I'm doing," I said that first night.Hope was crying. I had fed her. Changed her. Burped her. But she was still crying."Neither do I," Damien said. "But we're going to figure it out together."Kelvin came for his scheduled weekend.I was nervous. How would a four-year-old react to a newborn? Would he feel replaced?But when he saw Hope, something in his face softened."She's really small," he said."She is," I said. "That's because she's a baby.""Can I hold her?" he asked.I showed him how to support her head. How to be gentle. He sat on the couch with Hope in his arms like he was the most important person in the world.Damien watched from across the room with tears in his eyes.My mother came to stay for two weeks.She helped with night fee