Luna folded her few dresses into the small trunk at the edge of her bed, hands trembling as if the very fabric burned her skin. She had never left this house, never left her father's shadow… and now she was being sent away like unwanted baggage.
The door creaked open, and in waltzed her sisters, their voices sharp as knives.
"But why would he choose you?" Vivienne sneered, arms crossed over her jeweled bodice. "You don't even own proper gowns. I have more clothes and jewelry than you could ever dream of."
"Oh, please," Isabella scoffed, brushing her golden curls back with practiced arrogance. "If anyone should be chosen, it's me. He'd never look twice at someone like you."
Luna paused, straightened, and turned to face them. Her stormy grey eyes narrowed ever so slightly.
"If you both want him so badly, why not stop Mother and Father instead of standing here spitting poison?" she whispered, her tone calm, but her words cut deeper than any blade.
Vivienne's eyes flared. She lunged forward, grabbing Luna by the throat. Her nails dug into Luna's soft skin, leaving thin crimson trails. Luna gasped, the sting sharp, her temper flaring for the briefest moment, until she forced it down. Forced it back into the cage where it belonged.
"Enough!" Isabella hissed, ready to join in, but their mother's shrill voice echoed up the staircase.
"Luna! The driver is here. Hurry, don't keep him waiting!"
Viviana released her with a shove, and Luna stumbled back, clutching her throat. Her sisters' smirks burned into her mind as she picked up her trunk and made her way downstairs.
The sleek black Rolls-Royce Phantom gleamed at the entrance, its chrome edges glinting in the sunlight. Damiano's driver, a tall man in a tailored suit, silently loaded her belongings into the trunk.
Her family gathered by the door, all wide-eyed and pretending to be heartbroken.
"Oh, Luna… you'll write to us, won't you?" her mother simpered, tears that weren't real glistening in her eyes.
"Be strong," her father muttered, though the faintest smirk betrayed him.
Isabella clutched her pearls and added, "Poor thing, he'll devour you alive."
Their laughter, quiet, mocking- followed her as the driver opened the door. Luna slid into the velvet leather seat, her throat aching where her sister's nails had cut her. She refused to look back.
The Phantom glided away, smooth and silent, until the city was nothing but a memory.
Hours later, she was ushered onto a private jet, its polished silver body reflecting the fading sun. As it cut through the clouds, Luna pressed her forehead to the window. The sky looked endless, yet her chest felt caged.
And somewhere, in the distance, the De Santis mansion awaited her… the Devil's roof under which her nightmare would begin.
The jet touched down softly on a private runway. The driver guided her out, and the night air hit her like ice, sharp and unwelcoming.
Her eyes widened as the car carried her past towering iron gates that groaned open as if they belonged to a fortress rather than a home.
And then she saw it.
The De Santis mansion loomed ahead, an empire of stone and shadow, its tall windows glowing faintly like watchful eyes. Wolves were carved into the gates, their fangs bared, as though warning her she had entered their den. The sprawling estate stretched into the darkness, endless, suffocating, magnificent.
Luna's fingers clenched the seat as her heart hammered against her ribs.
Her nightmare had a roof. And tonight, it had claimed her.