LunaThe first place I headed to as soon as I arrived at the hospice was Ethan’s room. I hadn’t even stopped by my office or checked in with the nurses. My feet just led me straight to him. It’d only been two days, but something about being away from this place made it feel like I’d been gone for weeks.When I pushed open the door quietly, the soft sound of cartoons filled the room. His nanny, Grace, was gently feeding him some porridge, her voice calm as she encouraged him to take another spoonful.Ethan looked smaller than I remembered. Thinner. Tired. But when his eyes caught mine, that same little spark lit up in them. I forced a smile and stepped fully into the room.“Look who’s here,” I said, trying to sound cheerful even though my chest tightened just seeing him like that.His lips curved into a weak grin. “Luna…”God, hearing him say my name with so much joy did something to me. I moved closer and leaned down to press a kiss to his forehead. His skin was warm, but not in a fev
LunaThe image of the gun wouldn’t leave my head.As soon as my fingers wrapped around it, something cold had run down my spine. I’d shoved it right back into the hidden compartment and rushed out of the study like my feet were on fire, my heart pounding against my chest.Why does he have a gun?I stood there in my room, staring at nothing. Was that what Ronan meant on the yacht? When he asked what if he kills people? That stupid question had stayed in my head longer than I liked to admit, but now it didn’t feel so stupid anymore.Should I confront him? Or just… keep digging?I was still frozen in place, trying to calm the chaos in my head, when a soft knock hit my door.Then the door creaked open, Hardin. He popped his head in with that same crooked smile that always seemed to weaken me a little."Yes, my wife is back," he said, stepping inside fully.I had to force a smile. My face felt stiff, like my muscles were still trying to recover from the panic of earlier. I dropped my work
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
HardinI woke up in her damn house. A place I never should've let myself be dragged to, but here I am. The scent of antiseptic still lingered in the air, mixing with something faintly sweet. Luna.I've never heard of someone named Luna before. Her name sounds unique. I blinked against the fog in my head, my body heavy and aching. I can barely move my arm without it feeling like it's on fire. The wound—shit, I can still feel it. The pain is nothing new. I've seen worse. Been through worse. But it's different when you're not the one in control.The memory of how I ended up here hits me in fragments. A bullet in the shoulder—clean shot. At least that's what I thought. But it wasn't the bullet that did the real damage. No, it was the fucking knife that came after. A reminder from someone I used to trust. Someone I thought I could count on.The bastard betrayed me.I ran. I knew I couldn't stay in the warehouse. My men were compromised. The bastard men were closing in. I barely made it ou
Luna The morning light streams through the windows as I made my way down the hallway of the hospice. I stopped at the first patient's room, checking the chart on the door. Mrs. Alvarez—eighty-two, terminal, but still fighting. Her chart looks stable today, so I mark it down with a quiet nod and move to the next room.One by one, I visited the patients under my care, checking their vitals and reviewing their charts. It's a routine I've become accustomed to, the same one I follow every morning. There's something calming about the predictability of it all. The names, the numbers, the data—it's all I've ever known in this job. And it keeps me grounded.I gave a smile to Mr. Thompson, who's always asking if I brought him coffee. I didn't, but I promise him I'll bring some tomorrow. It's a small thing, but it keeps him going. Small moments like these remind me why I chose this career, why I keep doing it.Once the rounds were finished, I made my way to my office, my feet dragging a little.
LunaHardin didn't look like a joker. In fact, he looked like someone who was in for a very serious business. But as his words processed in my head, I labeled it as a scene from a comedy movie. Because where in hell did that come from? Who says that to a stranger out of the blue?A hearty laugh erupted from me. "Your wife? Are you rehearsing for a character in a movie?" I asked, still laughing.Hardin didn't join in my laughter. He kept a serious expression on his face, which only confused me more."Do I look like a joker to you?" he questioned."I think you do," I answered immediately. My eyes briefly glanced at his arm, now covered with a long-sleeve shirt, hiding away his injury. "And if not for the image of you that's installed so deeply in my head, I would have thought you weren't the same person I saved last night.""Well, too bad I am. The wedding is taking place in two days. There won't be any ceremony or guests. Just paperwork.""You're crazy if you think I'll fall for this b
HardinI have mastered an ability—the ability to study people. Before I interact with you, I first analyze your façade, observing and understanding the kind of person you are. A lot of times, people get surprised when I tell them what's on their minds. It's not because I have supernatural powers. No. It's simply something I grew up with. Being raised in the hands of a powerful gang taught me what it meant to be strong.I wasn't entirely proud of the person I became—fearless, ruthless, and powerful. But life has a way of throwing you into its own brand of unexpected cruelty. I have no memories of a bright childhood because I wasn't born into one. I do not have a mother or a father to call family.The only thing I was ever taught—reminded of every single day while growing up under my grandfather's rule—was never to be brought down by the cruelty of life. My grandfather, once the leader of the biggest mafia gang, was the only figure I looked up to throughout my childhood, my youth, and e
LunaIf someone had told me I would find myself in Hardin's house again, I would have laughed it off. I was certain the last time that I wouldn't step foot inside his house or, much less, encounter him again.However, here I am, standing in his big living room with a tall man behind me who exudes danger—just like the men in black suits I met on my way in. Saving the hospice wasn't my responsibility. The worst thing that could happen to me was resigning from work when the hospice shut down.But I have seen the way the nurses and doctors give their all to the hospice. The shared laughter between patients, and between patients and nurses, had turned the hospice into a community—one that had become like family to me. Most workers depended on it to provide for their families, and some found solace in reliving the memories of their loved ones who had passed away there.The sad look on the hospice director's face when he called us in for a meeting, and the heartbreak on the workers' faces wh
LunaThe image of the gun wouldn’t leave my head.As soon as my fingers wrapped around it, something cold had run down my spine. I’d shoved it right back into the hidden compartment and rushed out of the study like my feet were on fire, my heart pounding against my chest.Why does he have a gun?I stood there in my room, staring at nothing. Was that what Ronan meant on the yacht? When he asked what if he kills people? That stupid question had stayed in my head longer than I liked to admit, but now it didn’t feel so stupid anymore.Should I confront him? Or just… keep digging?I was still frozen in place, trying to calm the chaos in my head, when a soft knock hit my door.Then the door creaked open, Hardin. He popped his head in with that same crooked smile that always seemed to weaken me a little."Yes, my wife is back," he said, stepping inside fully.I had to force a smile. My face felt stiff, like my muscles were still trying to recover from the panic of earlier. I dropped my work
LunaThe first place I headed to as soon as I arrived at the hospice was Ethan’s room. I hadn’t even stopped by my office or checked in with the nurses. My feet just led me straight to him. It’d only been two days, but something about being away from this place made it feel like I’d been gone for weeks.When I pushed open the door quietly, the soft sound of cartoons filled the room. His nanny, Grace, was gently feeding him some porridge, her voice calm as she encouraged him to take another spoonful.Ethan looked smaller than I remembered. Thinner. Tired. But when his eyes caught mine, that same little spark lit up in them. I forced a smile and stepped fully into the room.“Look who’s here,” I said, trying to sound cheerful even though my chest tightened just seeing him like that.His lips curved into a weak grin. “Luna…”God, hearing him say my name with so much joy did something to me. I moved closer and leaned down to press a kiss to his forehead. His skin was warm, but not in a fev
LunaIt had been bothering me all day. The silence between Hardin and me felt heavier with each passing hour, and I knew exactly what was causing it.Ronan’s words kept echoing in my mind. "Even if he kills people?"I couldn’t shake the thought. I knew Ronan was trying to get under my skin, but what if there was some truth to what he said? What if Hardin wasn’t the man I thought he was? What if he had a side to him that I didn’t fully understand, a darker side?I didn’t want to think about it, but every time I looked at Hardin, I couldn’t help but wonder. The man I saw every day was confident, charming, even kind in his own way. But what if there was something more to him that I wasn’t seeing?I couldn’t bring myself to ask him about it. What if he confirmed my fears? I didn’t know if I was ready to hear the truth, whatever it might be.That’s why I kept quiet. That’s why I stayed distant. I didn’t know how to face him without questioning everything in my head.So I pretended everythi
Hardin The soft hum of the car filled the silence between us. We were on our way back home. The yatch party was over. I’d gotten what I came for. The art piece, the power play—every box ticked.Except the one sitting beside me.Luna’s eyes were fixed outside the window, her distant eyes reflecting on the glass, She hadn’t said much since last night. I didn’t think anything of it at first—assumed it was the exhaustion, the crowd, the flashing lights and endless congratulations. But this morning? Still quiet. Still withdrawn. She’d brushed it off when I asked.Said she was fine. But I knew better.My hand moved instinctively, settling on her thigh, warm and solid beneath my palm. I gave it a gentle squeeze, just enough to get her attention.“You okay?” I asked, my eyes still on her even when she turned to meet mine.She forced a small smile, the kind that didn’t quite reach her eyes, and nodded.“Yeah… I’m fine.”She wasn’t. And now, I wanted to know why.The smell of roasted chicken
LunaThe sun was already high when we stepped out onto the deck. The ocean sparkled like it was showing off, and the salty breeze played with my damp hair. I’d thrown on a simple white dress, the fabric light enough for the weather but clingy enough to remind me I wasn’t entirely over last night. Not when Hardin’s hand slid down my lower back like it belonged there.I wasn’t sure what I expected when he said he wanted me to meet someone, but walking past sunbathers, waiters with champagne trays, and private corners still echoing with laughter from the night before—it all felt surreal. Like I wasn’t just on a yacht but in some alternate version of reality where I woke up tangled in silk sheets and lust.Hardin didn’t say much as we moved through the upper deck, only glanced down at me once with a smirk that said trust me. That same smirk made my stomach flip.We stopped at the far end of the yacht, near a shaded lounge where a man sat alone, legs crossed, a half-empty glass of scotch a
LunaI didn’t think any man could ever make me feel like this—like my body was no longer mine, like my soul was being unraveled thread by thread with every touch, every thrust, every breath.Our skin was slick with sweat, our breaths tangled in a rhythm that felt like music only we could hear. My legs—God, my legs felt like jelly, trembling uncontrollably around him. The way he moved, the way he filled me—it was too much and not enough all at once.I bit my lower lip, eyes fluttering shut as another wave surged through me. My voice cracked with a growl, raw and breathless. “F-Fuck… I’m going—”Third time. I’d already lost count after two. Twice he’d pulled me apart with just his mouth, and now I was teetering again—this time wrapped around him, lost in him.Our clothes were scattered somewhere on the floor, forgotten. Hardin’s hand slid up my body, fingers closing around my breast—his lips had claimed the same spot not long ago, leaving behind heat and hunger.I arched into him as he
Hardin Even if she hadn’t said it, I was going to do it anyway.Hell, I’d been dying to kiss her since she walked down those stairs in that dress. The black one that hugged her in all the right places and made her eyes pop like a goddamn painting. She looked unreal. Crazy beautiful. And mine. Even if she didn’t know it yet.I’d held back all evening, biting down jealousy like it was something I could swallow. Every time one of those stuck-up bastards on the yacht gave her a second glance, I wanted to snap their necks. And Luna, oblivious as ever, just stood there with that soft smile, the kind that made you want to wrap her in your arms and shield her from every idiot with wandering eyes.She didn’t realize how many men noticed her.But I did. And I hated it.So when she whispered those two words—kiss me—I didn’t need a second invitation.I pulled her close, lips claiming hers like I’d been starved for it. Because truth was, I had. I’d been starving for her—for the softness in her vo
LunaHardin’s hand didn’t leave mine. Not even once.He moved through the crowd with a quiet confidence, greeting people with nods, brief smiles, and that serious look he wore so well. Like he was always watching.And people—well, they noticed him. Eyes trailed us, whispers stirred when we passed. But no one dared approach him with anything less than respect.It didn’t take long for me to realize something.Hardin knew almost everyone on this yacht.He greeted them like old acquaintances. Men in suits, women in glittering dresses, even the crew—it was like they all knew him. Or knew of him.Which was odd, considering he never even mentioned this party until after the shopping trip.I stayed close, pretending to sip my drink while watching him from the corner of my eye. His hand occasionally slid down, resting against the small of my back. Sometimes even lower. Possessive, intentional.I wasn’t exactly comfortable with the public display, but... I didn’t stop him either.Because someho
Luna"Go for the black one."I held the dress up in front of the mirror and frowned. “It’s too short,” I said into the phone, angling the camera so Rachel could see.Her laugh crackled through the speaker. “Exactly why you should wear it.”I rolled my eyes and stared at my reflection. The dress was sleek, off-shoulder, and sinful in every way. One sharp breeze and it was game over. “If I breathe wrong, something’s gonna slip.”“You’ll be on a yacht, not hiking through a storm,” Rachel teased. “You want him to regret inviting you or regret not inviting you sooner?”I sighed and dropped the dress on the bed. “You sound way too excited about this.”Rachel scoffed. “Because I am. Hardin didn’t even mention the party until after he dropped a fortune on you. That’s rich-man language for I want you looking like a goddess on my arm.”I bit my lip, eyes drifting to the collection of bags and boxes scattered around the room. She wasn’t wrong. He’d taken me shopping, barely said a word, just tol