I saved a stranger. Now, I belong to him. Luna thought she was doing the right thing when she helped the wounded man whom she stumbled into on her way going back home from work in the dead of night. She never expected to wake up in his world-trapped, claimed, and bound to a man who doesn't take no for an answer. Hardin DeVante is a kingpin in the business world, a man whose power extends far beyond boardrooms and balance sheets. He's ruthless, calculated, and dangerously captivating. And now, he's decided Luna will be his wife. She wants to fight. He wants to break her. But in the game of power and possession, will she escape... or will she surrender to the man who holds her fate in his hands?
Lihat lebih banyakLunaMy eyes fluttered open to light filtering through curtains. I blinked, squinting at the spacious room that wasn't mine—and then my gaze landed on the bare, broad back just a few feet away.Hardin with a towel hung low around his hips. Fresh out of the shower. I sat up abruptly, heart hammering. My clothes were still on—wrinkled from sleep—and the memories from last night came crashing in.The kiss. His hands."You're mine."Hardin turned around slowly, catching me mid-stare. My eyes dragged over the tattoo inked across the hard lines of his chest. He smirked like he caught my thoughts red-handed."Good morning," he said, voice low and lazy."Uh..." I stammered, still half in a daze. "Morning."I glanced around, then down at myself. "Wait—how did I... sleep here?" "You know," he said, towel still slung low on his hips as he ran a hand through his damp hair, "you were the one who wanted to stay. Practically begged for it, actually."I blinked. "What?"He shrugged, taking a slow st
HardinI don't know why I told her to stay. Hell, I don't know why I've been doing a lot of things lately. Letting her close. Watching her when she's not looking. Letting her touch me—even if it's just to wrap a wound I damn well could've handled myself.I'm not like this. I've never been like this.But here she was—sitting again like she belonged here, like her presence didn't mess with everything inside of me. She was a storm and I was letting her in.Her scent still lingered from earlier, that mix of something warm and soft, like lavender and stubbornness. My hand still tingled where she'd held it under the tap, rushing to stop the bleeding like I mattered.I glanced at her from the corner of my eye.She wasn't saying anything now. Just staring at her fingers like they were suddenly more interesting than me. Maybe I should've let her go. Let her escape this twisted thing between us before it turned into something worse.But I didn't.Because something in me needed her to stay. Even
LunaI came home earlier than usual, something about today had just... lifted me. The hospice was unusually alive, with laughter bouncing off the walls and warm chatter filling the halls. One of the patients had taught me an old card trick, and another insisted I try her famous mint candies, which were, in her words, "better than love." I didn't argue.I dropped my bag on the dinning table and made a beeline for the kitchen."Alice," I called with a smile as I stepped inside.She looked up from the counter, her sleeves rolled to her elbows, a bowl in front of her. "Well, well, look who's home early.""I'm helping with dinner today," I said, grabbing an apron from the hook. "Don't fight me on it."Alice's eyes sparkled as she clapped her hands. "Oh, what a lucky evening! Looks like we're in for a sweet dinner tonight."I laughed, tying the apron around my waist. "What's that supposed to mean?""Hardin," she said, her tone far too cheerful. "He told me he's making dinner tonight."I bli
LunaI wrapped my hands around the warm mug, inhaling the soft scent of chamomile as I scrolled through the hospice community group chat. Another event planned. A new patient admitted. More responsibilities added to an already overwhelming list. I sipped slowly, letting the quiet hum of morning settle in my bones.The sound of footsteps pulled my attention toward the stairs. Hardin.I didn't raise my head, but I noticed the bandage. It wrapped his right palm neatly, stark white against his tanned skin. Instantly, the memory of last night returned—the way he shut down.I kept my eyes on the screen, pretending he wasn't even there. If he wanted to play cold and silent, I'd give it right back.Alice came into the dining area a few seconds later, holding out a plate with reheated breakfast—the one he asked her to make last night."Here you go," she said with her usual brightness. "Warmed it up like you asked.""Thanks," Hardin murmured in that low voice of his, already settling at the tab
LunaI barely made it past the front desk when I saw Rachel leaning against the door to my office with her arms crossed and a knowing look in her eyes.Great."Hey," I greeted casually, hoping to just breeze past her like nothing happened. "You've been waiting long?""Not long enough to miss that dramatic exit you pulled earlier." Her tone was light, but her brows were raised, waiting.I offered a weak smile, already pushing the door open. "That? It was nothing."Rachel followed me in before I could shut her out. "Nothing?" she repeated, closing the door behind her with a click. "Luna, that was Hardin freaking Devante. He marched in like some scene out of a mafia film, stared you down, and pulled you out of the restaurant like you were his property."I let out a soft groan, dropping my bag on the chair. "Rachel, seriously, don't make this a thing.""Oh, it's already a thing." She folded her arms. "You didn't even try to pretend it was a coincidence. So now I'm asking—what the hell is
Hardin The office reeked of old money. Not the flashy kind of wealth that dripped from overpriced suits and diamond-studded watches—but the cold, ruthless kind. The kind that made men gamble with lives to protect empires built on shadows.I leaned back in the leather chair, the mask concealing my face, just as it always did during meetings like this. To them, I wasn't Hardin. I was no one. Never spoken aloud in public. That's how I intended it to stay.Across from me, Lucas Morales sat with a tightened jaw and sweaty hands, pretending not to be nervous."You're behind," I said, my tone cool, almost bored. "Again."Lucas adjusted his cuffs, forcing a chuckle. "A small delay. Just a hiccup. We had some issues at the dock, but the shipment is intact. You'll get your cut."I stared at him, unmoving. "A hiccup costs time. Time costs trust."My fingers tapped once against the armrest. Behind me, Theo stood in the shadows—silent, armed, and very aware of how close his hand was to the gun s
Luna"Why do you care?"The words left my mouth before I could stop them, my voice quieter than I expected it to be, but it still hung in the air.Hardin didn't respond right away. For the first time since I met him, he actually looked caught off guard. His lips parted slightly, his brows tugging together—not in irritation or mockery, but something I couldn't quite name.I hated that look. It made my chest tighten.He didn't answer me. Instead, he stood up slowly, the muscles in his jaw clenching. I braced myself for some smug comeback, but he said nothing. Just looked at me a second longer before muttering something under his breath and walking to the door.Typical.I leaned back on the bed, sighing as the throbbing in my foot dulled into a steady ache. I shouldn't have asked. It was stupid to even think he'd answer me. Hardin was Hardin. Broody. Sharp-tongued. Closed off.And still... he was the same man who carried me without hesitation. The one who sat through dinner silently with
Hardin "Are you an assassin?" Her words caught me off guard.I didn't move for a second. Just stood there, staring into her eyes that were wide with something between fear and confusion. She wasn't joking. Hell, I could see her pulse fluttering beneath her skin, her breathing unsteady.A smile tugged at the corner of my lips, though it didn't quite reach my eyes. "What kind of question is that?" I said, tone light—too light, hoping I could throw her off with charm.She didn't flinch. Didn't blink."I saw Theo," she said, voice low. "He had a gun, Hardin. He met with some guy... and then pointed it right at his forehead."My jaw tightened. I looked away for the briefest second, exhaling slowly, trying to decide which lie would land softer. But then she said the next part, and I froze."And don't forget I saw you... the other night. Dressed in all black with a mask. That explains the injury. You were hurt when I found you."My gaze snapped back to hers. She was putting things together
LunaThe Next Morning, I woke up before the sun. Not because I wanted to, but because sleep had evaded me long before dawn broke. My mind kept looping back to last night—to the warmth of Hardin's arms, the quiet strength in the way he held me. It should've been nothing. A passing moment in a string of complicated ones. But for some reason... it didn't feel that way.When I'd leaned into him, it was as if I'd found a place I didn't know I'd been searching for.I still couldn't believe I'd told him about my parents. It wasn't a story I liked to share. Not even with Jason. But Hardin—he didn't interrupt, didn't try to offer hollow comfort. He just... listened. And for a man who often used words as weapons, his silence last night felt more powerful than anything he could've said.I had told Rachel I didn't need someone to talk to.Maybe I lied.Still, life had to go on. Mr. Jenkins was gone, and though his death had hit me harder than I'd expected, I knew how this worked. We grieve, we he
Luna"Mr. Jenkins breathing has worsened," I told Dr. Morris as we hurried down the dimly lit hospice hallway. "He's struggling to catch his breath, and his oxygen saturation is dropping."Dr. Morris gave a short nod. "Was there any sign of distress earlier?""He mentioned mild discomfort, but it escalated fast. His daughter is with him—she's panicking."We reached Room 214, and the moment I pushed the door open, the sound of ragged, labored breathing filled the space.Mr. Jenkins lay against his pillows, his chest rising and falling erratically, his face pale and clammy. His daughter sat at his bedside, her fingers clutching his frail hand. Tears streaked her cheeks."Dad, hold on," she pleaded. "Please, just hold on."I moved swiftly to his side. "Mr. Jenkins, it's Luna. We're going to help you, okay?"His weak gaze met mine, his lips parted as he tried to speak—but only a wheeze came out."Let's get him more comfortable," Dr. Morris said. "Luna, increase his oxygen and check his m...
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