It happened too suddenly.

One moment Luna was sitting, leaning against the headboard, trying to strategise her way out of the complicated situation, and in the next, she found herself beneath him, the cold sheets brushing her back as Damian's shadow loomed over her. 

Everything happened so fast that she didn't even have the time to breathe, much less react. His strength, his presence, the sheer dominance radiating off him-she felt all of it press down on her in a single overwhelming wave.

And before she could react, warm, moist lips leaned down and claimed hers without waiting for permission. 

There was nothing gentle about the kiss-nothing hesitant or questioning. 

It was fierce, consuming, almost punishing, as if he were imprinting his existence onto her very soul. 

Once the kiss deepened and their tongues intertwined, Luna felt the last of her defences crumble. She fell into that cyclone of emotions she had been desperately trying to avoid for years-fear, longing, confusion, desire. All of it spiralled within her, pulling her down without mercy.

Her hands, which had been gripping his lapel with the intention of pushing him away, betrayed her. Instead of resisting, they pulled him closer, dragging him down to her. 

Her fingers moved on their own, unrestrained as they slid up his broad shoulders, into his soft, silky hair. 

She tugged him closer, deepening the kiss with a hunger she pretended she didn't possess. 

It terrified her-how instinctively, how helplessly her body remembered him.

When he finally pulled back after that long, breath-stealing kiss, Luna's eyes fluttered open. Those deep, endless eyes of his held her captive, pulling her soul into them with a force that made her forget how to inhale. 

His gaze was intense-too intense. 

There was something raw in it, something unguarded that she had never seen before.

The look he gave her made her instantly regret every reckless word she had thrown at him earlier.

"D-Damian, I am-"

"I won't let anyone take you away. Not even death."

His tone was deep, quiet, deadly serious. The words were not just a threat-they were a vow. A vow spoken by a man who never broke one.

"You belong to me and only me."

Luna froze.

It was rare-so rare-to see Damian Blackwell allow emotion to seep into his words. He was a man carved from ice and discipline. 

A man whose coldness could silence a room. If any of his subordinates had witnessed him in this state, with vulnerability flickering in his eyes, they would have believed it was an illusion. 

This was the same man who could terrify a veteran soldier with a single calm glance. The same man whose voice, when dipped in frost, could make even the boldest criminals choke on fear.

Yet tonight, he wasn't cold.

He was burning.

He gave her one last glance-quick, sharp, lingering longer than he intended. 

Then he picked up his coat, slipped it on with mechanical precision, and without sparing her another look, walked toward the door. His footsteps were steady, controlled. But Luna saw the tension in his shoulders, the tightness in his jaw. He was running-not from danger, but from her.

The heavy thud of the closing door echoed through the enormous room, announcing that he had left her alone once again.

Silence settled around her like a thick blanket. For a long moment, she didn't move. She remained frozen in that same position, her lips still tingling, her fingers still trembling with the memory of his hair between them. She wasn't sure if he had truly left or if he was standing behind the closed door, fighting the urge to return.

But the hallway remained silent.

Slowly, she released a shaky breath and forced herself to sit up.

Pulling the quilt around her body, she rose from the bed. Each movement felt oddly detached, as if she were watching herself from the outside. She walked toward the window-the massive glass wall overlooking the city below. Her steps were soft, almost soundless, swallowed by the thick carpet.

She gazed down at the silent city, glittering like a field of distant stars. Her long, thick hair cascaded down her back in messy waves, tangling around her shoulders, dark and unruly, falling like a veil around her form.

It was daybreak.

The first traces of gold crept across the horizon, softening the edges of skyscrapers with a quiet glow. The room itself was perched on one of the highest floors of the Blackwell Tower-hundreds of floors above ground, secluded from the noise of the living world.

Up here, it always felt like a different realm.

A place where only two people existed.

Luna knew her life would never be the same-not since the day Damian laid his eyes on her. That moment had sealed her fate.

Her life had changed the day she made that grave, irreversible mistake three years ago-when she was only seventeen, naïve and brave in all the wrong ways.

"Damian Blackwell," she whispered, her voice trembling ever so slightly.

Her fingertips pressed against the cold glass. The chill seeped into her skin, grounding her, reminding her of reality. Her lips trembled into a faint smile; not a happy one, but a fragile, helpless one. Remnants of tears still clung to her lashes. Streaks of moisture still stained her cheeks.

Damian Blackwell.

A name that chilled countless people down to their marrow.

A name whispered with fear, respect, dread.

A name no one dared to offend in their wildest dreams.

But she had.

Luna Hart was never a fragile, weak girl. Her appearance was delicate-a rose petal waiting to be bruised-but inside, she carried a strength that refused to break. That strength was her blessing-

-and her curse.

Perhaps if she had been a softer girl, a more timid girl, she wouldn't have made that catastrophic mistake three years ago.

Exactly three years ago, in a dimly lit club past midnight, she had seen him for the first time.

Damian Blackwell.

Back then, she had thought he was... likeable. Yes, likeable. Though she didn't know his name or identity, her first impression was gentle. She had believed he was a man with a cold exterior yet a righteous heart.

How wrong she was.

Fatally wrong.

And she had been running from the consequences ever since.

A month later, she had seen him again. Till then, she had no idea who he was.

In the high-class club, which was exclusive for the Elite, Damian Blackwell, the important man of the century, was sitting in the VVIP section. Being surrounded by groups of influential men who had waited for months just to win a minute of audience with him justified his sovereignty. His eyes lingered momentarily at that beautiful woman on the bottom floor who was drinking nonstop without any regard for tomorrow. He silently took a sip of some expensive brand of French wine. No one could penetrate his thoughts.

Not long after, his eyes shifted back to the person who was desperately fawning over him. It was noteworthy to say that the people who surrounded him included not only the President of some big, renowned international corporations but also several embassy members from foreign states. Yet, the nonchalance in Damian's demeanour did no justice to their status. Despite their important posts and flattering smiles, he was sitting there with a calm look on his face and a refined ambience in his air. 

Looking ever so unapproachable and aloof. From that, one could infer that this man was several levels above any of those who surrounded him that night.

That night, on the down floor, Luna had chugged down a great number of drinks. In her struggles to dissolve her pain, she had long surpassed the pre-decided safe threshold.

"Lulu, you said it would be the last one. This is not what you said when you asked me to tag along."

"Now what? You are determined to get totally wasted?"

"Luna Hart, we have classes tomorrow!"

"How about this: let me take you back?"

"Lulu, stop! This is the fifth one!" Sierra Lane's voice of complaints came at regular intervals. However, Luna paid no heed.

"Stop nagging," she gave a dismissive gesture and asked the mixer for another glass of some high alcohol high-alcohol-content beverage.

"..."

"I-I'mm not ggoing home tonight." Her speech had only begun to slur now. Yet, the determination in her eyes was crystal clear.

"Lulu!" 

Luna Hart giggled lightly. 

"This is it! I am going to call your brother!"

Luna paused. Playfully, she placed a finger under her chin as if she were thinking about something. Laughing lightly, she met Sierra Lane's eyes once again.

"I wonder how surprised your brother would be once I tell him about the things you did with your boyfriend in the backseat of his new car."

"..."

"And how beautiful his expressions would be once he realises the stains on those seats weren't ice cream but actually-"

"For f*ck sake, shut up!" Sierra Lane's eyes were furious. Yet a deep crimson crept up her face. It was a mixture of anger and embarrassment.

"See? It is wise if we don't involve our family in this. You are going to cover up for my absence, and that's how it's gonna be."

"This is bullying. Lulu, you! You have no shame."

Luna smiled at Sierra. After chugging down the remnant contents of the glass, she looked back at her. Propping her chin over her hand, her drunken eyes looked directly at Sierra's reddening face.

"How come? I wasn't the one who did those things."

"I shouldn't have told you."

"That was a mistake you made! Now suffer!"

Luna was naturally so provocative. After numbing her caution with alcohol, her provocations had reached entirely new heights. That night, Sierra had already suffered a lot at her hands. Sierra didn't know what to do with her. She just didn't know. Other than throwing her head over the counter in desperation, she couldn't do anything anyway. She could already hear her brother's scolding for not completing her assignments.

"What was I thinking when I agreed to accompany you?"

"Lulu, my dear Lulu, you are going to regret it tomorrow."

"Have you ever drunk this much before? Think of the terrible hangover awaiting you!"

Yet no matter what Sierra said, it had no effect on Luna. Gritting her teeth, Sierra finally said,

"You are like this because of Ethan? Let me tell you, that bastard is totally not even worth a hangover!"

Something flicked in Luna's eyes.

"Who says I am here because of him? This is my life, and I want to get drunk today."

Sierra Lane was about to retort, but stopped. She had just caught the subtle change of expression on Luna's face. She froze for a second.

'Lulu, with your attitude, you almost had me believe that you really didn't care. But guess I was wrong. You still care for that bastard?'

Sierra Lane didn't bring that matter up again. With a sigh, she resigned.

"Being me one too!"

"That's my girl!" Luna's eyes gleamed in happiness; she clapped happily and kissed Sierra's cheek.

"Just remember that I am doing it this once. There won't be any other time."

Sierra eyed Luna with a glare.

"Of course!"

No matter how playful and provocative Luna was, when it came to relationships, she had her heart settled on only one man, Ethan Monroe. For him, she had forsaken everything. Now that she had caught him with another woman in the middle of the act, Luna's state of mind had been chaotic for a week. Although Luna did her best not to make it obvious and continuously told everyone that she was over him, this time Sierra had seen right past her.

"There won't be any next time. Come on, you need to lose yourself sometimes, too."

Luna's eyes fell on a couple dancing happily in the club. Gradually, her smile dropped. Inevitably, she succumbed to the memories of Ethan. She closed her eyes for a second and thought. 

Where did she go wrong? 

She just didn't agree to be physical with him until she was eighteen. To compensate, she had done her best to become a woman in his ideals. Despite her naturally wild personality, she had been restraining herself all those years. Just for his sake. Just to be a wife material for him.

Luna felt a dull ache in her heart.

'Sierra is right. He is not worth it.'

What pained her wasn't his betrayal. What pained her more was her naivety. She was so naive to think that he was sincere with her.

'Guess this is how men are. A man who can love a woman without having her physically must be a myth.'

She had reached a conclusion that night. A conclusion she would holf firmly till a tragedy proved her wrong.

And that conclwas going to make her do something that she would regret for the rest of her life.

Sierra didn't intercede as Luna drank again. After all, the Luna she knew, once she had decided to do something, there was no way to stop her. And today, Luna had decided to waste herself completely.

'It must be because Ethan had never allowed her into clubs before. In defiance, she is behaving this way today.'

Sierra hadn't missed the pained expressions on Luna Hart's face when she was looking at the happy couple dancing.

Sierra didn't care much. Today, she was not here to be a drinking partner but a babysitter to watch over Luna. She just waited for Hart to either drop dead drunk or get tired and agree to leave.

As Luna took another sip from the glass, she heard Sierra's voice.

"Lulu, I'm going to use the restroom." After saying that, Sierra glared at Luna. "So don't you dare leave this spot, or I'm going to ditch you. Have fun finding a lift back home this late at night."

"Why the glare? Don't you even trust me?" Luna pouted.

"Not even a bit!"

"You hurt me, Sisi." Luna clutched her chest as if heartbroken, being dramatic.

Sierra rolled her eyes. "How many shots have you had again?"

"Seven. Not eight. I-I think I lost count." Luna gave a giddy smile. Sierra almost wanted to punch that smile off her face.

"Lulu, this is not a joke. You must not leave while I am away!" Sierra was growing impatient.

First, she had to use the restroom. Second, she had to endure a useless bicker with her. How unfortunate!

Luna innocently smiled at Sierra . "Fine. Go away. I wouldn't leave." She waved with her hand and took another small sip.

Sierra looked at Luna suspiciously. Something about Luna's 'innocent' smile looked not so very innocent.

Feeling the suspicious gaze, Luna whined in a sweet voice. "I promise!" She even put two fingers up.

"You!" Sierra raised her finger, but the need for the restroom made her swallow all the curses she had originally wanted to throw at Luna. In the end, she could only shout while rushing away in a hurry. "You'd better keep your word!"

"Haha. Sisi, did you really believe my promise? How stupid of you."

Luna laughed evilly. Getting up, she stretched. It was very stuffy on the bottom floor; she climbed up to the second floor. It was more refreshing and clearer in there.

She was engaged in her own fun. She had lost track of time when, suddenly, gasps and a slap were heard from the side. Luna frowned and glanced in that direction.

.

.

.

Sitting over a black couch, with his elbow resting on the armrest of the couch and his head propped on his hand, nonchalance was everything that appeared on the man's face. His other hand held a wine glass as he took small sips at intervals. All the people in the club had stepped several steps away from the spot, creating a circle with the couch in the centre.

As if he were some king and everyone else in there was a peasant.

Only his subordinate kept standing by his side with a solemn face. He quietly handed a tissue to Damian. Damian silently wiped his hands clean; his actions held elegance and smoothness.

His eyes shifted down towards the woman who was grovelling at his feet. Coldness was the only thing that emerged from the bottom of his heart and poured into his eyes. Within the chilliness, one could detect slight disgust for the creature at his feet.

"F-Forgive me!" The woman was terrified of being looked at like this. Her appearance was totally ruined. One could tell that originally, she could have been looking quite seductive and classy with her tasteful jewellery and short dress.

But after being slapped and crying, her makeup was totally ruined. Blood trickled down her nose. Her hair was messy and tangled. Now, she looked more appalling and pitiful.

Looking at this, something snapped within Luna.

"I didn't mean to. I only approached Mr Blackwell because I admired you-"

The woman was slapped again by one of his subordinates. She was shut just like that. Her cries echoed on the second floor. The atmosphere grew serious. Even the background music had been shut down long ago. Everyone was holding their breath as if waiting for a great volcano to erupt.

Yet the man in the centre was silent and still like a cool moon on a winter night, giving a gentle glow.

The woman's pitiful eyes looked around as if searching for someone who would volunteer to help her out of her imminent death. Yet, no one stepped forward. Even if there were a few who pitied her, no one would dare to offend the man on the couch.

No one but a certain someone.