Chapter 6: Breaking Orbit
Luna Harper stood in the dim glow of her Silver Lake apartment, the city's skyline a mosaic of lights beyond her balcony. The air was warm, carrying the faint scent of jasmine from the neighbor's garden, but her mind was a storm. The #PsychicScam hashtag had exploded overnight, with anonymous Twitter accounts painting her as a corporate spy out to sabotage Caldwell Innovations. Samantha Caldwell's fingerprints were all over it—her Instagram posts had shifted from subtle shade to outright warfare, with a new story featuring a screenshot of Luna's shop with the caption: Beware the fortune-teller who predicts your downfall. The comments were brutal, and Luna's Yelp page was now a battleground of five-star fans and one-star trolls.
She paced, her bare feet silent on the hardwood floor, her moonstone pendant cool against her chest. The tarot spread she'd laid out at midnight—Death, The Chariot, The Lovers—sat on her coffee table, its message clear: transformation, action, and a choice between heart and head. Samantha's smear campaign was a distraction, but the real threat was the leak at Caldwell's company. Luna had the TechTrend log, Jessica's tip, and her own visions pointing to a traitor, but the pieces weren't clicking yet. And Ethan—stubborn, skeptical Ethan—was still on the fence, his trust a fragile thread she couldn't afford to snap.
Her phone buzzed, and she glanced at the screen. A text from Maya: You see the latest? Samantha's got bots calling you a hacker now. You okay? Luna's lips curved into a grim smile. She typed back: Fine. Time to flip the script. She wasn't going to let Samantha's digital mob bury her. The stars had brought her this far, and she wasn't backing down. She grabbed her laptop, opened Twitter, and started typing: #PsychicScam? Let's talk truth. I predicted Caldwell's client crisis, and I'm predicting this: the real scam's closer to home. Stay tuned. She hit send, her heart pounding. It was a gamble, but Luna was done playing defense.
Ethan Caldwell sat in his Santa Monica penthouse, the ocean waves a distant murmur beyond the glass walls. His laptop was open to the server audit Noah had sent an hour ago, a dense spreadsheet of logins and IP addresses that pointed to an external breach. The trail led to a VPN, just like Luna's source had claimed, but the IP was a dead end—masked, untraceable. What wasn't a dead end was the timestamp: the leak had started two weeks ago, right around the time Luna crashed his press conference. Coincidence? His gut said no, but his head wasn't ready to trust a woman who read tarot cards for a living.
His phone buzzed, and he glanced at the screen. A Twitter notification: Luna's post, bold and unapologetic, calling out the #PsychicScam nonsense and hinting at a traitor. He snorted, but his curiosity flared. She was fearless, he'd give her that. And reckless. The post was trending already, with replies split between supporters cheering her on and trolls piling in with more venom. Samantha's latest Instagram story wasn't helping—a photo of a broken crystal ball with the caption: Some stars crash and burn. Ethan's jaw clenched. His cousin's obsession with Luna was spiraling, and it was starting to feel personal.
He texted Noah: Get me everything on that VPN. And keep an eye on Sam's posts—she's escalating. Noah's reply was instant: On it. Luna's at her shop if you want to talk. She's got that "I'm about to do something crazy" vibe. Ethan's lips twitched. Crazy was right. But crazy might be what he needed. He grabbed his keys, the decision made before he could overthink it. Luna Harper was either his biggest asset or his worst mistake, and he was done sitting on the sidelines.
Luna stood behind the counter at Stellar Insights, the shop's neon sign casting a pink glow over the hardwood floor. The morning crowd was thin—just a few tourists browsing crystals—but the air felt charged, like a storm was brewing. Maya was sprawled on a beanbag, scrolling through Twitter on her phone. "You're trending harder than a Kardashian breakup," she said, grinning. "That tweet was savage. Samantha's gotta be fuming."
"Let her fume," Luna said, rearranging a display of rose quartz. "She's trying to bury me, but she's just digging her own grave." Her phone buzzed with a new email from Jessica Lane: Got more on the leak. Meet me at Echo Park Lake, 3 p.m. Bring backup. Luna's stomach twisted. Backup? That didn't sound good. She texted Noah: Echo Park Lake, 3 p.m. You in? She hesitated, then added Ethan to the thread: You should come. This is your fight, too.
The door chimed, and Luna's head snapped up. Ethan walked in, his charcoal suit a stark contrast to the shop's bohemian chaos. His blue eyes locked on hers, and the air crackled with that same spark she'd felt at The Observatory. "You don't waste time," he said, his voice low but laced with amusement. "That tweet's got half the city talking. You trying to start a war?"
Luna grinned, leaning against the counter. "Not a war. A wake-up call. Your cousin's playing dirty, and I'm not here to lose." She gestured to a small table in the corner. "Sit. We need to talk before we meet my source."
Ethan raised an eyebrow but sat, his posture relaxed but his gaze sharp. "Your source. The one who gave you that log? Or are we still playing mystic roulette?"
Luna pulled her tarot deck from her pocket, shuffling with a flourish. "No roulette. Just truth." She spread three cards: The Hierophant, The Eight of Swords, The Sun. "Tradition, entrapment, and clarity," she said, her voice steady. "Your traitor's tied to your company's old guard—someone who's been around since your dad ran things. They feel trapped, maybe by loyalty, maybe by something darker. And the Sun? That's what we'll find if we work together."
Ethan's eyes flicked to the cards, then back to her. "You're good at this," he said, his tone grudging. "But I need more than cards. The audit's showing a breach, but it's pointing to an external IP. Noah's digging, but we're running out of time. TechTrend's pitching to GreenWave tomorrow. If they've got our specs, we're done."
Luna slid the TechTrend log across the table. "This is what my source gave me. It's real, Ethan. And I'm meeting her at Echo Park Lake at 3 p.m. to get more. Come with me. You'll see I'm not just blowing smoke."
He studied the log, his jaw tightening. "You're asking me to trust a stranger who's trending as a scam artist. That's a hard sell."
Luna leaned closer, her voice soft but firm. "I'm not a stranger. I'm your destiny, remember? The pact ties us together—your empire, my gift. You don't have to believe in it, but you can't ignore it." She paused, her eyes searching his. "Take a chance, Ethan. You're a Leo. You live for big moves."
For a moment, neither spoke, the air thick with unspoken possibilities. Ethan's gaze held hers, and Luna felt that cosmic jolt again, like the stars were nudging them closer. Finally, he nodded. "Alright. Echo Park, 3 p.m. But if this blows up, it's on you."
Luna's smile was radiant. "Deal."
Echo Park Lake was a slice of calm in the city's chaos, its lotus flowers bobbing on the water and palm trees swaying in the breeze. Luna, Ethan, and Noah arrived early, staking out a bench near the boathouse. Noah clutched a coffee, his eyes darting around like he expected a spy movie showdown. Ethan was quieter, his suit jacket swapped for a black sweater that made him look less like a CEO and more like a man bracing for a fight. Luna's intuition was on high alert, her moonstone pendant warm against her skin.
Jessica appeared at exactly 3 p.m., her blazer replaced with a hoodie, her expression tense. She carried a small envelope, her hands shaking slightly as she handed it to Luna. "This is it," she said, her voice low. "Chat logs from TechTrend's server. Names, dates, the works. Your traitor's someone named 'T.' They've been feeding specs for weeks, and they're planning a big drop tonight."
Luna opened the envelope, her heart racing as she scanned the printout. The name "T" was everywhere, linked to messages about Project Orion. One line stood out: Payment received. Harper's IP is set. Luna's blood ran cold. Samantha's frame job was tighter than she'd thought. She handed the log to Ethan, her voice steady despite the panic clawing at her. "They're trying to pin this on me. But I'm not the leak."
Ethan's eyes darkened as he read, his fingers tightening on the paper. "This is bad," he said. "If they've got your IP, it's not just a leak—it's a setup." He turned to Jessica. "Who's your source? And why should I trust you?"
Jessica's jaw tightened. "My source is anonymous, but they're legit. I've been chasing this story for weeks. If you don't trust me, trust the evidence." She glanced at Luna. "And you'd better move fast. 'T' knows you're onto them."
Before Luna could respond, a black SUV pulled up near the boathouse, its tinted windows gleaming. Noah tensed. "That's not good," he muttered. The doors opened, and two men in dark jackets stepped out, their eyes locked on the group. Luna's intuition screamed—danger, now.
"Time to go," she said, grabbing Ethan's arm. They moved fast, weaving through the crowd as the men followed, their steps deliberate. Noah kept pace, his phone already out, texting security. They ducked into a side path, the lake's calm surface a stark contrast to the adrenaline pumping through Luna's veins.
"Who the hell are they?" Ethan growled, his hand brushing hers as they ran.
"No idea," Luna said, her breath short. "But I'm guessing Samantha's not working alone." The stars had warned of conflict, but this was bigger than she'd expected. They reached a parking lot, Ethan's Tesla a sleek escape route. He unlocked it, and they piled in, the SUV's headlights flashing in the rearview as they sped off.
That night, Luna sat in Ethan's penthouse, the city's lights sprawling below like a galaxy. The chase at Echo Park had rattled her, but it had also changed something. Ethan had seen the logs, felt the danger. He was starting to believe her—not in the pact, not yet, but in her. They sat at his sleek dining table, the TechTrend logs spread out, Noah typing furiously on his laptop.
"There's more to the pact," Luna said, breaking the silence. She pulled a small journal from her bag—her ancestor's, the one that outlined the star-crossed pact. "It's not just about us getting married. It's about balance. My gift, your empire—they're tied to something bigger. A century ago, our families made a deal to protect their legacies. If we break it, the fallout isn't just personal. It's cosmic."
Ethan's eyes narrowed, but he took the journal, flipping through its faded pages. "This is insane," he said, but his voice lacked its usual edge. "You're saying we're pawns in some ancient prophecy?"
"Not pawns," Luna said, her voice soft. "Players. And we're running out of time to make our move."
Before Ethan could respond, Noah's laptop pinged. "Got something," he said, his face pale. "The VPN trace—it's not Luna's IP. It's coming from inside the company. And the login… it's tied to Samantha's account."
Ethan froze, his eyes locking on Luna's. The stars had been right all along.