"No… it's too much. I need something in black," I said, my voice already tired from repeating the same sentence for the past hour.
The saleswoman smiled politely, though I could tell I was testing her patience. Dresses—red, gold, shimmering, elegant—none of them felt right. None of them felt like me.
Black did.
Black always did.
It didn't ask questions. It didn't expect anything. It just… hid everything.
"Maybe this one?" she suggested, handing me another piece.
I took it without much hope and stepped into the changing room again.
A minute later, I stared at my reflection.
A black strapless dress.
It clung to my body like a second skin, hugging every curve perfectly. It ended mid-thigh, simple yet bold. No unnecessary sparkle, no overdone design.
Just… perfect.
I tilted my head slightly, studying myself.
"Hm… not bad," I murmured.
For the first time today, I didn't feel like taking it off immediately.
"This one. Pack it," I said as I stepped out, already reaching for my old clothes.
The saleswoman's smile returned, this time genuine.
Within minutes, I had changed back, placed the dress on the counter, and paid.
No second thoughts.
No hesitation.
Maybe I needed this.
Something simple. Something controlled.
Something that wasn't my life.
The drive home felt quieter than usual.
Or maybe my mind was just louder.
As soon as I stepped inside the house, the familiar coldness wrapped around me. It wasn't the temperature—it was the feeling.
This house never felt like home.
My eyes automatically searched for Adrian.
Of course.
The study.
Where else would he be?
I walked down the hallway and stopped in front of the door. For a moment, I hesitated… then knocked.
"Brother?" I called softly.
"Come in."
Same tone. Same boredom.
I sighed under my breath and stepped inside.
He was sitting behind his desk, as always—perfect posture, unreadable expression, like he was carved out of stone instead of flesh.
Without a word, I walked forward and placed his credit card on the desk.
"I used this," I said simply, turning to leave.
"Luna."
I froze.
"Sit. I need to tell you something."
His voice wasn't loud, but it carried weight.
Something serious.
I turned slowly, frowning, and took a seat across from him.
"Is everything alright, brother?" I asked, a slight nervousness creeping into my voice.
He leaned back in his chair, studying me for a moment before speaking.
"You know our family has many enemies."
My stomach tightened.
"Yes…"
"And the most dangerous of them all… is the Genovese family."
My fingers curled slightly in my lap.
I had heard that name before. Everyone had.
Danger. Power. Blood.
"We've been fighting them for years," he continued calmly. "But this war… it's only costing us lives. Our people are dying, Luna."
I swallowed.
"So," he added, his voice turning sharper, "Ronald Genovese has made a proposal."
I blinked.
"A proposal?"
"To end this conflict. To become allies instead of enemies."
That… actually sounded like a good thing.
So why did I feel uneasy?
"Brother… why are you telling me this?" I asked slowly, confusion settling deep in my chest.
His gaze locked onto mine.
"Because," he said, "this alliance involves you."
My heart skipped.
"What do you mean?"
He didn't hesitate.
"We've decided to arrange a marriage between you… and his grandson."
Everything inside me went still.
"…what?"
"Zane Genovese."
The name hit like a slap.
"No."
The word came out instantly.
"No way in hell I'm marrying him."
My voice rose, sharp and unfiltered.
"Yes, you will."
His tone didn't change.
And somehow, that made it worse.
"You're my responsibility, Luna," he continued. "And this… is what's best for all of us."
Tears burned my eyes before I could stop them.
"Am I that much of a burden to you?" my voice trembled. "That you're ready to marry me off to a stranger? To your biggest enemy?"
For a brief second—just a second—I saw something flicker in his expression.
Guilt.
Regret.
But it disappeared just as quickly.
He stood up and walked around the desk.
Before I could react, he pulled me into his arms.
"Shh… baby girl," he murmured softly, holding me tightly against his chest.
The nickname broke something inside me.
"I'm not your enemy," he whispered. "And you're not a burden. Never."
But then why did it feel like I was being traded?
"I just want what's best for everyone," he continued. "You'll be happy. Trust me."
Happy.
The word felt foreign.
After Mom died… happiness had never really stayed.
I pressed my face against his chest and cried quietly, gripping his shirt.
"I don't want to get married… not yet," I whispered.
There was a pause.
Then a softer voice.
"…Alright."
I froze.
"Just the engagement," he said. "For now. Get to know him. If you're satisfied… then we'll proceed."
Satisfied.
Like this was some kind of deal.
But deep down… I knew.
This wasn't a choice.
It was inevitable.
Slowly, I nodded.
"Okay…"
He kissed my forehead gently.
"That's my girl."
I stepped back, wiping my tears as he handed me a tissue, already returning to his chair—back to being the untouchable man everyone feared.
Conversation over.
Just like that.
I walked out of the study in silence and headed to my room.
Why the hell is my life like this?
By the time the clock hit 10, I had finally managed to pull myself together.
Crying wouldn't change anything.
Nothing would.
I stood in front of the mirror again.
The black dress.
It looked even better now.
Paired with black heels, my hair left open, soft waves falling down my back. Smoky eyes, nude lipstick.
Simple.
Dangerous.
Controlled.
Exactly what I needed to be tonight.
I added silver earrings and sprayed my favorite jasmine perfume, letting the familiar scent calm my nerves.
Grabbing my clutch, I headed downstairs.
"Take me to Clover Club," I told the driver.
As the car moved, I quickly texted Kiara:
I'll be there in 15.
The club was alive.
Music thumped through the walls, lights flashing, people laughing, dancing, forgetting.
For a moment… I wanted that too.
I made my way through the crowd until I spotted Kiara at the bar.
"Luna!" she grinned.
I rushed to her, hugging her tightly.
God, I missed her.
We spent the next half hour drinking margaritas, talking, laughing—just like old times.
She was still the same.
Beautiful. Confident. Unapologetic.
And for a while… I almost forgot everything.
Almost.
Until I noticed him.
Out of the corner of my eye.
A man walking toward the bar.
And suddenly…
Everything else faded.
Silver hair.
Blue eyes.
Sharp features.
A body that looked like it belonged in a sculpture museum.
He didn't walk—he owned the space.
My gaze lingered longer than it should have.
"Damn…" I whispered under my breath.
Kiara followed my line of sight and smirked.
"Oh, he's trouble."
He stopped right beside me.
Close enough for me to notice the scent of his cologne.
Close enough to feel his presence.
Before I could think, Kiara nudged me—
Hard.
I stumbled slightly—
Right into him.
"Oh—shit—sorry," I muttered, embarrassed.
He looked down at me, those piercing blue eyes locking onto mine.
A slow smile curved his lips.
"Am I that lucky," he said smoothly, "that beauty is falling into me?"
My breath hitched.
God, his voice…
Deep. Rich. Dangerous.
I took a sip of my drink, trying to stay composed.
"Well… I guess it's your luck for being handsome enough."
He smirked.
"Tell me, sweetheart… what's your name? Or should I just keep calling you that?"
Heat crept up my cheeks.
Normally, I would've walked away.
Ignored him.
But tonight…
I didn't want to.
I leaned closer, my lips near his ear.
"Luna," I whispered.
His hand slid around my waist, pulling me closer.
My heart skipped.
"You know," he murmured, "fate has a strange way of working."
I frowned slightly, pulling back just enough to look at him.
"What do you mean?"
His eyes darkened.
"Never thought my future wife would be this beautiful."
My stomach dropped.
"Your… what?"
"Yes," he said calmly. "You."
This wasn't flirting anymore.
This was something else.
Something real.
A strange unease settled in my chest.
"What's your name?" I asked slowly.
He leaned closer, his lips brushing near my ear.
"Guess it, baby."
And for some reason…
I wasn't sure I wanted to anymore.