Chapter 13
727 Words
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Luna POV
The letter wasn’t supposed to exist.
Her mother’s will had been settled years ago — polished, rehearsed, controlled, just like everything else her mother had touched. Luna remembered the legal meetings. The sterile language. The faint scent of lilies clinging to her father’s lapel, the only thing warm in the room.
But this… this wasn’t in any of those documents.
It arrived in a black envelope. No postage. No seal. Just a name in her mother’s handwriting — Aurelia — scrawled across the front.
Luna hadn’t seen her first name written like that in years.
Like it meant something softer.
She stared at it for minutes before opening it, heart hammering against her ribs. Cassian was in the next room, on the phone with his legal contacts in Geneva, but Luna didn’t call for him. Not yet.
This felt like something she had to do alone.
Inside was a single letter. The paper was soft, creamy. Expensive. The ink slightly faded. But the words?
They were sharp.
My darling Luna,
If you're reading this, then the lies have cracked wide open — and the truth has bled through.
I’m sorry. For every silence. For every moment I chose obedience over protection.
Your father didn’t build our empire. And neither did I. It was Laurent. But it was built on something you were never meant to see.
A trade.
A promise.
And you were the currency.
Luna’s hands trembled slightly.
She kept reading.
> I didn’t know at first. Not the full plan. I thought the Laurel alliance was just a strategic marriage to secure peace between volatile giants. But Laurent… he didn’t want peace.
He wanted control. He wanted a child he could program into perfection.
You were never his niece. Not truly.
You were his project.
And when I found out, it was already too late. They’d mapped out your life in blood and code. You were going to be the bridge, the merger, the weapon and the shield. All wrapped in a beautiful silk bow.
I tried to pull away. I threatened to go public. But your father… he chose Laurent.
I chose silence.
And I’ve hated myself for it every day since.
Luna felt something collapse in her chest — not a sob. Not yet.
Just the pressure of a truth too heavy to hold.
Her mother wasn’t a pawn.
She had known.
And she hadn’t stopped it.
The next lines were messier. As if her mother’s hand had shaken while writing.
> But you grew into fire anyway.
You were never obedient. Never silent. Even as a child, your rage scared them. I used to think that was a flaw. Now I know it was your salvation.
You won’t forgive me. I don’t expect you to.
But if you’re reading this — then you’ve survived them.
And maybe, just maybe, you’ve finally chosen something for yourself.
That’s all I ever wanted. Even when I couldn’t say it aloud.
> Love,
Mother
Luna folded the letter with trembling fingers and held it against her chest.
She didn’t cry.
She couldn’t.
But for the first time since the storm began, she grieved.
Not just the woman she lost — but the mother she never really knew.
Cassian found her ten minutes later, sitting on the floor of the bedroom, the letter beside her like a wound reopened.
He didn’t speak. He just knelt in front of her and took her hands in his.
“She knew,” Luna whispered. “About all of it. About Laurent. About the deal. About me.”
Cassian’s brows furrowed, but he didn’t interrupt.
“She didn’t stop it,” she continued. “She let it happen. She watched me grow up in a cage and said nothing.”
“She was scared,” he said quietly. “That’s not an excuse. But it’s a reason.”
Luna shook her head. “I don’t want reasons. I want to stop this cycle. I want to end every name, every blood-stained boardroom, every forged destiny.”
Cassian reached up and touched her face, gently. “Then we end it. We burn every last string they used to control us.”
She looked up at him, eyes raw.
“And what’s left after that, Cassian? What’s left when the smoke clears?”
He didn’t hesitate.
“You.”
- Writer
