Chapter 9

Mrs. Parker looked up, her eyes widening in shock. “Luna, you’re soaked!” she exclaimed, her voice laced with concern or so it seemed.

I didn’t buy her act. “Oh, please, ma’am,” I snapped, “don’t act all innocent. You know exactly what happened. You and that good-for-nothing Romano planned this, didn’t you?”

Her expression shifted instantly. The faux concern vanished, replaced by a glare of pure rage. “Watch your tongue, young woman,” she hissed. “How dare you speak to me like that?”

I hesitated for a moment, intimidated by her sudden shift in demeanor. But my anger outweighs my fear. “I’m not some toy you can exploit,” I shot back. “I quit.”

Before I could take another breath, her hand struck me across the face. The sting of her slap burned, and for a moment, I was too stunned to react.

“You ungrateful wretch,” she spat, her voice trembling with fury. “Before you quit, you’ll pay me every single dime you owe me.”

Her hand raised again, ready to strike, but this time, it never landed. A strong hand grabbed her mid-air, stopping her. Both of us turned, and my heart dropped.

Romano stood there, his face dark with anger. His piercing eyes bore into Mrs. Parker, and for the first time, I saw fear flicker in her expression.

“Mr. Romano,” she stammered, dropping her arm as he shoved her hand away.

Without a word, he signaled to his bodyguard, who appeared moments later holding two sleek briefcases. Romano’s cold gaze never left Mrs. Parker as the cases were placed on her desk and opened to reveal stacks of crisp dollar bills.

“That should cover her debts,” Romano said, his voice like ice. “She belongs to me now.”

“What?” I snapped, turning to face him. “I belong to no one!”

His eyes shifted to me, sharp and unyielding. “Silence,” he barked.

Before I could say another word, he grabbed my arm firmly, dragging me out of the office. I fought against his hold, trying to pull away, but it was no use. It felt like trying to move a mountain.

“Let me go!” I shouted, tears of frustration spilling over. “You can’t do this!” but it was futile, it was like a puppy pulling a lion.

He didn’t respond, his grip unrelenting as he walked me toward his car parked outside. By the time we reached the sleek, black vehicle, he finally released me.

I didn’t waste a second. I turned and bolted down the street, my legs moving as fast as they could. The tears I had been holding back poured freely now, blurring my vision. My chest heaved as I ran, my wet clothes making the chill of the night even harsher.

Eventually, my legs gave out, and I slumped onto the sidewalk in the shadows, trying to collect myself. The darkness around me felt like a reflection of the chaos in my mind.

“Come on, Luna,” I whispered to myself, my voice trembling. “You’re bigger than this. You’ll be fine. Just... pull yourself together.”

I wiped my tears away and stood, wrapping my arms around myself for warmth. There was no way of getting a cab. I had left all my things back at the club. I started walking, aimless but determined to put distance between me and that place.

Suddenly, the low hum of an engine pulled me out of my thoughts. A black car slowed beside me, its windows rolling down. My heart raced, and for a moment, I considered running again.

It was Romano’s bodyguard. He extended a hand out the window, holding my bag. Hesitantly, I took it, bowing my head slightly in acknowledgment.

Before I could say anything, the back window rolled down. Romano sat there, his expression unreadable as he stared at me. The silence between us was suffocating.

The window rolled back up, and the car pulled away, disappearing into the night. I stood there, clutching my bag tightly, my emotions a storm of anger, fear, and confusion. What game was this man playing, and why did I feel like I was losing?

The cold night pressed heavily against me, my soaked clothes clinging to my skin, chilling me to the bone. My arms were wrapped tightly around myself as I walked aimlessly, trying to clear my head. Out of nowhere, a gentle voice broke through the silence.

“Hey, are you okay? You look lost... and scared,” an older man said, his tone filled with concern.

I looked up, startled. The man had kind, weathered features and soft eyes that seemed to radiate warmth. His grey hair peeked out from beneath a woolen hat.

“I... I’m fine,” I stammered, though my trembling body betrayed my words.

“You don’t look fine,” he said, shaking his head gently. “Here, let me help you. It’s far too cold and late for you to be out here like this.”

I was too stunned to resist as he placed a gentle hand on my shoulder, guiding me away from the darkened streets. We walked slowly, his presence oddly comforting, until we reached a small, cozy-looking restaurant.

“This is my place,” he said, leading me through the back door. The warmth of the room enveloped me immediately, and I exhaled a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding.

The man handed me a steaming cup of coffee and draped a thick shawl over my shoulders. “Drink this; it’ll help,” he said, his voice steady and kind.

“I’m Kun-Woo, but everyone calls me Pa Kevin,” he continued with a smile. “And this is my wife, Melissa.”

A woman appeared beside him, equally kind-looking, with grey-streaked hair and a warm smile. She extended her hand, and I shook it timidly.

“I... I don’t know how to thank you,” I murmured.

“You don’t have to,” Melissa said softly. “But tell us, dear, why are you out here looking like this?”

I hesitated but decided to share part of the truth. “I had an... incident at work. I fell into a tub of water, got into a bit of a fight with my boss because she wanted me to do something outside my job description, and... I got fired.” I avoided mentioning Romano entirely, not wanting to relive that part of the night.

Their faces fell with sympathy. “Oh, you poor thing,” Melissa said, patting my hand.

“Are you hungry?” Kevin asked.

“Oh, no, I’m fine. Really,” I replied, though my stomach growled faintly in protest.

Melissa glanced at me knowingly but didn’t press further. Instead, she disappeared into the back room and returned holding a bundle of clothes. “Here,” she said, handing them to me. “These should fit. I have a daughter about your age, and these are her clothes.”

“Thank you,” I said, my voice cracking with gratitude. “I promise I’ll return these.”

“No need,” Melissa said with a dismissive wave.