Luna's POV
The mansion didn't really sleep that night. It just pretended to.
Luna sat on her bed, staring at the dark ceiling. Her heart still raced from what happened, that kiss she didn't plan, didn't want, but couldn't stop.
What was she thinking?
He was Lucien Roth, the man she came here to hate.
She sighed and reached under her mattress, pulling out a small notebook. The pages were worn from all the times she'd opened it in secret.
On the first page was a name:
Michael Gross.
And under it, written in smaller, shaky letters:
Lucien Roth-Don't trust him.
Her hand hovered above the words.
Should she cross them out? Or underline them again?
Because even now, after everything, she wasn't sure which side he was really on.
Outside, footsteps echoed down the hallway. Slow. Heavy. Getting closer, She froze.
Lucien.
No, she couldn't face him, not after that. Not when she could still feel the warmth of his hands on her skin and the confusion sitting heavy in her chest.
She quietly moved to the door and pressed her ear against it. The footsteps stopped right outside, her heart jumped.
Then, after a few seconds, the shadow under her door disappeared.
He left.
Luna let out a shaky breath and sat back on her bed. Her fingers trembled slightly as she closed the notebook.
If she stayed in this house any longer, she'd lose focus.
If she left now, she might lose the truth forever.
Either way, she was trapped.
And for the first time, she wasn't sure which scared her more.
Lucien Roth... or her own heart.
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Lucien's POV
That kiss wasn't supposed to happen.
Lucien sat alone in his study, staring at the glass of whiskey on his desk. The room was quiet, but his mind wasn't. He kept replaying that moment ,the way Luna looked at him, the fear in her eyes, the heat in the air right before it happened.
He shouldn't have kissed her.
He shouldn't even want her.
She was just a maid.
A maid who knew too much.
A maid who made him feel things he'd buried years ago.
He leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temples. "Damn it," he muttered under his breath.
His tablet buzzed. A message popped up.
From: Marcus (Head of Security)
Subject: Re: Background check - Maid
Lucien's chest tightened. He opened the message.
There's no record of her before two years ago. No ID, no address, nothing. Either she's hiding something, or someone's hiding her.
Lucien froze for a moment. Then he laughed a cold, bitter sound.
So, he was right. She wasn't who she said she was.
But why did that hurt more than it should?
He stood up and walked to the window. The moonlight spilled across the garden, soft and quiet, the kind of quiet that hides too many secrets.
He told himself she was trouble from day one. He should've fired her. He should've stayed away.
But something about her eyes... the sadness in them... felt too familiar.
Like she carried the same kind of pain he did.
Lucien turned off the tablet and walked out of the study. He needed to clear his head. But as he passed the east wing, he noticed her door, a faint light glowing underneath.
He stopped,he shouldn't be here.
He shouldn't even care, but he couldn't help it.
His hand brushed against the door, and for a second, he thought he heard her moving inside. Maybe crying. Maybe just pacing.
He almost knocked. Almost.
But instead, he stood there in silence, his heart beating faster than it should.
For the first time in years, Lucien realized something scary.
He wasn't afraid of being lied to.
He was afraid of believing her.