Chapter 16
826 Words
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
LUNA POV
She found it on the doorstep.
A black envelope.
No address. No seal. Just her name in silver ink — Luna Knight, written in the same hand that once signed her ballet recitals, her birthday cards, her mother’s wedding papers.
But this wasn’t her mother’s handwriting.
It was older.
Sharper.
And it should have been impossible.
Because the man who wrote it had been declared dead five years ago.
She didn’t call for Cassian.
She didn’t move at first.
Just stared at the envelope like it might bite. Like it might explode.
Because in their world, it just might.
Her fingers itched.
She picked it up.
The paper was cold. Too cold. Like it had been sitting in a vault or under the earth. Like someone had unearthed a ghost just to remind her she was still being watched.
She opened it slowly.
No fanfare. No wax. No blood.
Just a letter.
And one word written at the top in a language she hadn't spoken since childhood:
> Ma chère...
Her breath caught.
Only one person had ever called her that.
Not her mother. Not Laurent. Certainly not her father.
Lysander Knight.
Her uncle.
Dead. Buried. Burned into ashes after a car crash in Marseille.
Except…
This letter was dated last week.
And the content?
Luna read it once. Twice. Her fingers went numb by the third pass.
> My dearest Luna,
By the time you read this, you’ll know the truth about your father. About Laurent. About the deals that were made with your name inked in blood before you even learned to write it.
But what you don’t know — what no one knows — is that Laurent was never the mastermind.
He was just the blade.
And I was the hand that held it.
I faked my death five years ago because I knew the tides were shifting. And I needed the world to forget me. But I never forgot you.
You were never supposed to become a pawn. You were supposed to inherit the board.
But they beat me to you.
Now, the game has changed.
And if you’re ready to play it the way we designed… meet me in Prague.
No security. No Cassian. No hesitation.
Midnight. July 1st.
There’s a key taped to the back of this letter. It unlocks a vault. Inside it is everything: the files, the photos, the proof. The kind of proof that could destroy LaurelTech, the Syndicate, and your father in one breath.
But be warned.
If you open it, there’s no going back.
Choose carefully, ma chère.
Because legacy, like blood, stains everything it touches.
— L.
Luna stood there in the doorway for a long time.
The envelope in one hand.
The key — gold, delicate, cold — pressed into her palm.
She didn’t feel the tears until they hit her lips.
She didn’t even know what emotion they were born from — betrayal, confusion, grief, relief?
She thought he was dead.
She mourned him.
Lysander Knight wasn’t just her uncle. He was her first sanctuary. Her protector. The only man who’d ever told her the truth before anyone else could twist it.
And now?
Now he was alive.
Hiding.
Watching.
Still pulling strings.
She walked back inside like a ghost.
Cassian was in the kitchen, shirtless, coffee in hand. He looked up, smile forming — and then fading the second he saw her face.
“Luna?”
She didn’t speak.
Just handed him the letter.
He read it in silence.
When he was done, he looked up, jaw tense.
“Lysander’s alive?”
“So it seems.”
“And you’re considering going?”
She didn’t blink. “I have to go.”
“Luna…”
“He says Laurent isn’t the true architect.”
“I know,” Cassian said. “But what if it’s a trap?”
She sat down at the table, placing the key in front of her like it was a loaded weapon.
“It probably is.”
“Then why go?”
She looked at him.
And when she did, he understood.
Because she needed the truth — even if it broke her.
Even if it broke them.
---
That night, she stood at the window while Cassian packed the safe house.
“You’re going, aren’t you?” he asked quietly.
“I have to.”
He came behind her, arms wrapping around her waist.
“Let me come with you.”
She leaned into him. “He said to come alone.”
Cassian’s voice dropped to a whisper. “He doesn’t get to give you orders.”
She turned, looking up into those storm-grey eyes. “Neither do you.”
He nodded. “Then promise me one thing.”
“What?”
“If he touches you — if he lies — if he even breathes wrong—”
“I’ll burn him myself,” she said.
And Cassian believed her.
- Writer
