I don't care about Zane Genovese.
That thought sits cleanly in my mind now. No confusion. No hesitation. No leftover emotion trying to crawl its way back in.
Just clarity.
Just control.
I sit straight in my chair, spine firm, expression calm. Not the broken version of me from the hospital. Not the restless version pacing in frustration.
This is Luna Gambino.
And I know exactly who I am again.
Without even thinking, my hand reaches under the table and grips Adrian's hand tightly.
Not out of fear.
Not out of nervousness.
But because he is steady.
And I need steady, not chaos.
He doesn't react much—just glances at me briefly, then lets it be. That's enough. He understands without needing words.
The room continues speaking, but I focus on one voice only.
Zane's grandfather.
"So I suggest," he says carefully, folding his hands on the table, "since your engagement has been the gossip of the underworld and made it seem like a weakness rather than a strengthened alliance… we should make a public appearance."
My gaze stays forward.
Unmoving.
"A formal event," he continues. "Before your marriage. It will correct perception. Reinforce unity. Show strength."
My grip on Adrian's hand tightens slightly—not emotionally, just grounding myself in decision-making.
I stay silent for a moment.
Weighing.
Calculating.
Not feelings.
Facts.
This world doesn't respect silence unless it becomes strategy.
Then I speak.
"What event do you want to arrange for leaving an impression?" I ask calmly.
My voice is firm.
Even.
Controlled.
I do not glance at Zane.
Not even once.
Because I refuse to.
Because I don't need to.
Because whatever strange pull I once felt toward him is buried now under white hospital walls, sterile silence, and distance he created himself.
If he chose space—
then I choose clarity.
His grandfather thinks for a moment.
Then replies, "A simple engagement celebration. Before the marriage. Something public. Controlled. Enough to reinforce alliance."
I nod once.
Slowly.
Accepting the structure of it.
My mind already working through logistics, security layers, guest control, narrative shaping.
This is familiar territory.
This is Gambino territory.
"I and my brother will discuss it properly," I say, "and then let you know."
No emotion.
No softness.
No hesitation.
Just authority.
I release Adrian's hand slowly now, not because I need to, but because I've anchored myself enough.
Then I continue.
"Anything else of concern?"
Silence.
No one speaks immediately.
I don't wait for them to find more words.
I stand.
Chair shifting slightly behind me.
The sound is small, but it cuts through the room.
"I should leave then," I say simply.
My gaze remains forward.
Still not looking at Zane.
Not acknowledging him.
Not giving him space inside this moment.
Then I add, tone steady and final:
"And Mr. Zane Genovese… since I am back in my mansion and my brother is back as well, you do not have to stay here anymore. Please return to your place with your family."
The words land clean.
Controlled.
Respectful on the surface.
Final underneath.
For the first time, the room feels different.
Not louder.
Not tense.
Just… paused.
Adrian doesn't interrupt me.
That alone tells me I've said exactly what needed to be said.
I turn slightly toward the exit.
My steps are steady.
No rush.
No hesitation.
But as I walk, I feel it.
The weight of the room behind me.
Eyes.
Thoughts.
Unspoken reactions.
Especially one.
But I refuse to acknowledge it.
Because acknowledging it would mean opening a door I already closed.
And I don't open closed doors anymore.
Not after everything.
I walk out into the corridor and only then do I release a breath I didn't realize I was holding.
My shoulders remain straight.
My face remains calm.
But inside—
something tightens briefly.
Not pain.
Not longing.
Just awareness.
Because I know what I just did.
I didn't just end a conversation.
I drew a line.
Between me and him.
Between past and present.
Between whatever he was becoming to me…
and whatever I refuse to let myself become again.
Behind me, the mansion feels quieter now.
Or maybe I've just chosen not to hear it anymore.
I continue walking forward.
Step by step.
Luna Gambino.
Not fragile.
Not waiting.
Not anyone's responsibility.
Just myself.
And that is enough.