Moon Valley: The Hidden Contract

Chapter 5; The Price

Claire POV.

I was alone now, but the silence felt heavier than any threat. My heart raced faster than before—more than fear, it was a cold, creeping dread that settled deep in my bones.

Killian.

That name echoed in my head, and I instinctively pressed my palms against my ears as if I could block it out. It was a name no one in my family was supposed to speak lightly; it was treated almost like a curse, or a secret too dangerous to be uttered aloud.

‘Am I just being paranoid?’ I wondered, shaking my head as if I could dislodge the thought.

The Killian my grandfather spoke of was a legend within the Anderson clan. He was the man who had saved my grandfather’s life decades ago, and in return, had opened doors that turned our family from ordinary people into one of wealth and influence. I still remembered the way my grandfather’s voice would drop to a grave, serious tone whenever he mentioned him.

“Everything we own, every comfort we enjoy—it all comes from him,” he used to say. “But remember this: nothing in this world is truly free. Every gift has its price. And one day, Killian will come to collect what is owed. When that day arrives, we must honor it, no matter what.”

I tried to push the memory away, forcing myself to think logically.

“No… they can’t possibly be the same person,” I muttered out loud, half to convince myself. “The Killian my grandfather knew was already a grown man back then. He’d be well over a hundred years old by now—long dead, bones turned to dust.”

Even if, by some impossible chance, it was the same man… why would he come for me? I was the unwanted daughter of the Andersons—the one always left in the shadows, the one no one paid much attention to, the one who never quite fit in. I was nothing special, just the girl who stood in the corner, always the last to be considered.

A bitter laugh escaped my throat. “There’s no reason to dwell on this. He said he would answer everything once I’ve rested. I’ll just wait… and see.”

Taking a deep breath to steady myself, I pushed off the bed and stood up. As I looked around properly for the first time, my breath caught.

Every single thing in this room screamed wealth and luxury. The lighting was soft and warm, set into ornate fixtures on the walls. The bed I’d been lying on was made of polished dark wood, draped in silk sheets that felt softer than anything I’d ever touched. The side tables were carved with intricate details, and across from me stood a large vanity mirror framed in silver, with a matching set of chairs. The whole interior was elegant, expensive—something I would expect to find in a mansion in the city, not on a remote island.

I frowned again. Moon Valley.

I walked toward the second door, curious, and pushed it open. My eyes widened even more. The bathroom was just as lavish—marble floors and walls, gleaming fixtures, and a large, deep bathtub big enough for two, surrounded by bottles of oils, soaps, and fresh towels folded neatly.

I decided then I needed to wash away the dirt, the sweat, and the fear clinging to my skin. I filled the tub with warm water and sank into it, letting the heat seep into my aching muscles.

As I rested my head against the edge, my mind drifted back to how I ended up here.

‘How stupid I was.’

Moon Valley. I’d only ever read about it online. Every article, every photo, every review painted it as a hidden paradise—pristine beaches, quiet forests, a peaceful community far away from the noise and chaos of the world. It looked like the perfect place to disappear, to start over.

I’d been desperate to escape my family’s expectations, their coldness, and the suffocating life they had planned for me. So I found their official website, filled out the application, and submitted all the documents they asked for—medical records, work history, every detail of my life. And to my shock and joy, I was accepted. I’d thought my prayers had finally been answered.

But now… as I lay there in this strange, beautiful prison, I could only think one thing.

The moment I stepped off that ferry, I hadn’t walked into paradise.

I had walked straight into Hell.

After my bath, I felt a little cleaner, but the tension in my body hadn’t eased one bit. I walked over to the large built-in cabinet along the wall and pulled it open. Rows and rows of clothes hung neatly inside—dresses, blouses, trousers, all made from fabrics that looked soft and expensive.

Can I even use these? I hesitated, wondering if they were meant for someone else. In the end, I decided not to risk it. Instead, I reached for the soft robe hanging on the side and wrapped it tightly around myself. But as soon as the fabric settled against my skin, I frowned. It was far too thin and light; even with the lights dim, I could tell it barely covered anything at all. Every curve, every mark I wanted to hide would show right through.

I rummaged through the drawers below, looking for something more practical, and pulled out a set of underwear. The moment I held it up, I wanted to groan. “What is this? Everything is practically transparent!” I muttered under my breath.

There was no other option. I slipped on the white set, then wrapped the thickest black robe I could find twice around my body, pulling the belt tight enough to feel secure. It wasn’t perfect, but it would have to do.

I was just about to lie back down on the bed when a loud, gurgling sound came from my stomach—sharp and demanding. I pressed a hand against it, wincing. Damn it… I haven’t had a single bite of food since I arrived here yesterday. Between the fear, the pain, and the chaos, I’d completely forgotten to eat.

I sighed and rubbed my aching midsection. Glancing at the clock on the wall, I saw it was already 2:00 AM. Everyone must be asleep by now… I reasoned. If I moved quietly, I could find something to eat and be back in my room before anyone noticed.

With that thought, I turned the doorknob and stepped out into the hallway.

I should have been surprised by what I saw, but by now, nothing shocked me anymore. The space outside was even more lavish than the bedroom—polished wooden floors, chandeliers hanging from high ceilings, expensive paintings lining the walls. But as I walked, I noticed something else: there was not a single soft cushion, no frills, no decorations that felt feminine. Every piece of furniture, every detail, was sturdy, sharp, and imposing. This place clearly belonged to a man.

I didn’t stop to admire anything. Keeping my footsteps light, I moved carefully down the wide staircase, glancing left and right at every turn until I spotted it—the doorway leading to the kitchen.

“Finally…” I whispered, rushing toward it. My eyes immediately locked onto the stainless steel refrigerator in the corner.

I had barely taken two steps when a low, amused voice drifted through the darkness behind me.

“Hungry little kitten…”

My whole body froze. My heart leaped into my throat, and I felt a rush of guilt mixed with pure shock. ‘How?! How is anyone still awake at this hour?’ I screamed at myself silently, mentally kicking myself for being so careless.

I didn’t even need to turn around to know who it was. That deep, hypnotizing tone—rich, warm, and carrying that same heavy presence that made my skin prickle—belonged to only one person.

Killian.