Chapter 5: Shadows in the Stars
The Griffith Park Observatory loomed against the midday sky, its white dome gleaming like a beacon above the sprawling green hills. Luna Harper stood near the planetarium, her boots crunching on the gravel path as she scanned the crowd of tourists and joggers. The air was warm, tinged with the scent of eucalyptus and sunscreen, and the distant hum of Los Angeles buzzed below. She adjusted her oversized sunglasses, her heart ticking like a metronome. Jessica Lane's email had been cryptic—Found something. Meet me tomorrow, Griffith Park, noon. Come alone.—and Luna's intuition was screaming. Ally or trap? The stars hadn't been clear, but the tarot spread she'd drawn at dawn—The Hanged Man, The Five of Swords, The Star—suggested sacrifice, conflict, and a flicker of hope. Whatever Jessica had, it was big.
Luna spotted her near a bench overlooking the Hollywood sign, her denim jacket swapped for a crisp blazer, her dark hair pulled into a tight bun. Jessica's eyes darted around, like she was expecting someone to jump out of the bushes. "You came," she said, her voice low as Luna approached. "Good. We need to talk fast."
Luna crossed her arms, her amethyst pendant catching the sun. "I'm here," she said, her tone light but her eyes sharp. "But if this is another LA Weekly ambush, I'm not in the mood. Spill it."
Jessica glanced over her shoulder, then pulled a folded piece of paper from her bag. "I'm not here to screw you over," she said, handing it to Luna. "This came from a source at TechTrend. It's a partial log of encrypted messages—someone at Caldwell Innovations is feeding them your boy's AI blueprint. The IP traces to an external server, but it's routed through a VPN. My source thinks it's an inside job, someone high up."
Luna unfolded the paper, her pulse quickening. The log was a jumble of timestamps and code, but one phrase stood out: Project Orion—full specs delivered. Orion was Caldwell's AI, the heart of their energy grid revolution. She'd seen it in her visions—a document with their logo, passed in shadows. "This is real," she murmured, her fingers tracing the ink. "But why give it to me? What's your angle, Jessica?"
Jessica's lips tightened. "I'm a reporter. I chase truth, not headlines. And yeah, your reading yesterday freaked me out—it was too spot-on. I think you're onto something, and I want in. If we expose this leak, it's a win for both of us. You save your billionaire boyfriend, I get the story of the year."
Luna's laugh was sharp. "He's not my boyfriend. Yet." She tucked the paper into her jeans pocket, her mind racing. Jessica's offer was tempting, but the cards had warned of hidden motives. "I'll look into it," she said. "But if you're playing me, the stars will know. And so will I."
Jessica nodded, her expression unreadable. "Fair. Just watch your back. Whoever's behind this doesn't play nice." She turned to leave, then paused. "One more thing—Samantha Caldwell's been asking around about you. Old friends, old jobs, even your high school. She's digging deep."
Luna's stomach twisted, but she kept her smile in place. "Let her dig. I've got nothing to hide." It was a half-truth—her past wasn't scandalous, but it wasn't spotless, either. Growing up with a mother who led moonlit rituals didn't exactly scream "normal." She watched Jessica disappear into the crowd, then pulled out her phone and texted Noah: Got something big. Meet me at Stellar Insights, 2 p.m. Bring coffee.
Ethan Caldwell paced his office, the Pacific Ocean a restless blur outside his window. The anonymous email from last night had kept him up, its warning about the AI specs leak gnawing at him. He'd ordered a full audit of the server logs, but so far, nothing concrete—just a tangle of VPNs and dead ends. Luna's words from yesterday echoed in his head: Someone close, someone you trust. He didn't want to believe her, didn't want to think anyone in his inner circle could betray him. But the evidence was piling up, and so was his grudging respect for her instincts.
His phone buzzed with a text from Noah: Luna's got something. Meeting her at her shop, 2 p.m. You in? Ethan hesitated, his thumb hovering over the screen. He'd told Luna to work through Noah, to keep her at arm's length. But the idea of sitting this out, of letting her call the shots, didn't sit right. He typed back: I'm coming. No crystals on my desk. He grabbed his jacket, ignoring the stack of reports waiting for him. Luna Harper was a wildcard, but wildcards could change the game.
Stellar Insights was quieter than usual when Luna returned, the lunchtime rush of tourists gone. She flipped the sign to "Closed" and lit a sage bundle, letting the smoke curl through the air as she prepared for Noah and—hopefully—Ethan. The shop felt like a sanctuary, its walls lined with star charts and crystals glinting under fairy lights. She spread the TechTrend log on the counter, cross-referencing it with her notes from last night's tarot spread. The Hanged Man had warned of sacrifice—maybe her reputation, maybe her heart. The Five of Swords pointed to conflict, and Samantha's name kept surfacing like a bad omen.
The door chimed, and Noah walked in, holding two coffees and a grin. "You're making my life way more interesting," he said, setting a cup in front of her. "Black, no sugar, because you seem like the type who doesn't mess around."
Luna laughed, taking the coffee. "Good call." She glanced past him, her heart skipping as Ethan followed, his suit jacket slung over one shoulder, his blue eyes scanning the shop like it was a crime scene. "Didn't expect the boss himself," she said, her tone teasing. "Feeling brave?"
Ethan's lips twitched, but he didn't smile. "Feeling impatient," he said, leaning against the counter. "Noah says you've got something. Show me."
Luna slid the TechTrend log across the counter, her fingers brushing his as she did. The contact sent a spark up her arm, and she caught the briefest flicker in his eyes—something beyond his usual skepticism. "Encrypted messages," she said, keeping her voice steady. "Your AI specs are being fed to TechTrend. The IP's masked, but it's coming from inside your company. Someone with access to Project Orion."
Ethan's jaw tightened as he scanned the paper. "Where'd you get this?" he demanded, his voice low.
"A source," Luna said, dodging the details. "But it lines up with what I saw in the cards. Your traitor's moving fast—probably planning to drop the full specs before your launch next month." She pulled her deck from her pouch, shuffling with a flourish. "Want me to dig deeper?"
Ethan's eyes narrowed, but he nodded. "Do it. But no promises I'm buying this."
Luna grinned, spreading three cards: The Emperor, The Ten of Swords, The Ace of Cups. "Authority, betrayal, and a new beginning," she said, her voice soft but firm. "Your traitor's someone with power, someone who feels betrayed by you. And the Ace… that's us. A partnership, if you're willing."
Ethan snorted, but his gaze lingered on the cards. "You're good at this, I'll give you that. But I need more than metaphors. Noah, pull the exec logs. Cross-check every login from the last two weeks. If Luna's right, we'll find something."
Noah nodded, already typing on his tablet. "On it. But, uh, boss? Samantha's been asking about the audit. She's not happy you're looping in… outside help." He glanced at Luna, his grin apologetic.
Luna's smile didn't waver. "Let her be unhappy. She's got her own game going." She caught Ethan's look—sharp, assessing—and held it. "You know I'm right about her. She's not the traitor, but she's stirring the pot."
Ethan's expression darkened. "Careful," he said. "She's family."
"And I'm your destiny," Luna shot back, her tone half-joking, half-serious. "Family can be messy. Trust me, I know."
Samantha Caldwell sat in her Venice Beach condo, the ocean waves crashing outside as she scrolled through her phone. Her latest Instagram post—a cryptic shot of a broken crystal ball with the caption Some stars fall hard—was racking up likes, but her focus was on a new message from "T": Specs are live. Harper's IP is pinned. She's done. Samantha's smile was cold as she typed back: Perfect. Keep the trail clean. Framing Luna had been easier than expected—a few hacked server logs, a well-placed VPN, and some cash to the right people. By tomorrow, Ethan would think Luna was the leak, and her little psychic act would crash and burn.
She opened a file on her laptop, a dossier on Luna she'd paid a private investigator to compile. High school dropout, raised by a single mom who ran a spiritual shop in Echo Park. A few minor run-ins with skeptics who'd called her a fraud, but nothing juicy. Still, Samantha knew how to spin a story. A few well-placed leaks to the tabloids, and Luna would be a pariah. She closed the laptop, her manicured nails tapping the desk. Ethan was hers—always had been. No boho wannabe was going to change that.
That evening, Luna sat cross-legged on her apartment's balcony, the Silver Lake skyline twinkling below. She held a moonstone in her palm, its cool glow calming her racing thoughts. The pact was heavier now, its pull like a tide dragging her toward Ethan. She closed her eyes, letting her intuition take over. Flashes came—Ethan's face, shadowed by doubt; a document with Caldwell's logo; a woman's silhouette, sharp and calculating. Samantha, or someone deeper in the shadows? The vision blurred, but the warning was clear: the traitor was closer than she'd thought.
Her phone buzzed, and she glanced at the screen. A text from Maya: Check Twitter. Samantha's trending again, and it's not good. Luna opened the app, her stomach dropping. A new hashtag—#PsychicScam—was gaining traction, with posts linking Luna to the Caldwell leak. Fortune-teller or corporate spy? one tweet read. Luna Harper's playing Ethan Caldwell for a fool. The posts were anonymous, but the timing was too perfect. Samantha was moving fast, and Luna was running out of time to prove her.
She stood, slipping the moonstone into her pocket. The stars were still on her side, but the game was getting dangerous. Tomorrow, she'd face Ethan again—and this time, she'd need more than cards to win him over.