THE MORNING AFTER
690 Words
Chapter Nine: The Morning After
Luna woke to a soft glow of sunlight spilling through floor-to-ceiling windows. For a moment, she forgot where she was. The sheets were too soft. The bed too big. The air too quiet.
Then reality hit her.
Liam’s penthouse.
Last night.
His voice, low and dangerous, still echoing in her mind:
Tell me to stop.
Heat rushed to her cheeks.
She slipped out of bed, smoothing down her hair, and stepped into the hallway. Everything about this place felt intimidating — cold marble floors, expensive art, and the faint scent of Liam’s cologne lingering in the air.
She followed the sound of clinking glass to the kitchen.
Liam stood there, shirtless, sweatpants hanging low on his hips. He was pouring water into a glass, muscles rippling with every movement — the kind of body sculpted by discipline and violence, not vanity.
He turned at the sound of her footsteps.
“You’re awake,” he said, voice rough from sleep… or lack of it.
Luna tried not to stare, but her resolve didn’t stand a chance.
“I… didn’t know where anything was,” she managed.
He nodded, grabbing a mug and pouring coffee. Then he handed it to her — not saying a word. His fingers brushed hers, warm and calloused, and her heart jumped.
“You didn’t sleep,” she whispered.
“Didn’t need to.”
She frowned. “Liam—”
Before she could finish, a shrill beep echoed through the penthouse.
Liam’s expression snapped into something sharp. Deadly.
“What is that?” Luna whispered.
He set the mug down carefully — too carefully. “Stay behind me.”
Her pulse spiked as he grabbed a gun from a drawer, flicked off the safety, and moved silently toward the front security panel.
The screen flashed red.
> UNKNOWN ENTRY ATTEMPT – LEVEL 1 BREACH
Luna’s blood turned to ice.
“Is someone trying to get in?” she whispered.
Liam didn’t answer. His jaw tightened, eyes cold and calculating. He tapped a command, pulling up the hallway camera.
A man in black stood outside Liam’s door.
A mask.
A weapon.
And something chilling in his stance — he wasn’t there to talk.
Liam cursed under his breath.
He turned to Luna, grip tight on his gun. “Go to my room. Lock the door. Don’t open it for anyone but me.”
“Liam—”
“Now.”
The command in his voice left no room for argument.
Luna rushed into his bedroom and closed the door, locking it with shaking hands. She pressed her ear against the wood, heart pounding so loud she could barely breathe.
Then she heard it.
A thud.
A crash.
A muffled shout.
Gunfire.
Her chest constricted. Fear clawed up her spine. She shouldn’t open the door. She shouldn’t move.
But this was Liam.
Her Liam.
The man who would burn the world to keep her safe.
And then—
Silence.
Seconds passed.
Too many seconds.
Then a knock. Firm. Controlled.
“Luna.” His voice. Dark. Steady. “Open the door.”
She unlocked it instantly.
Liam stood there, breath harsh, blood splattered across his arm and chest. Not his. The gun hung at his side. His eyes — those stormy, beautiful eyes — searched her face like he needed to see she was still breathing.
She threw her arms around him before she could stop herself.
He froze. Then slowly, like something inside him broke, he pulled her tight against him.
“I told you,” he murmured into her hair. “Danger follows me. This is what I am, Luna.”
She looked up at him, her palms on his chest. “Then I’ll face it with you.”
His breath hitched.
For the first time, Liam Moretti — the feared mafia boss, the untouchable CEO, the man with blood on his hands — looked shaken.
“You don’t know what you’re saying,” he whispered.
“Yes,” she said fiercely. “I do.”
His fingers tightened on her waist.
“Then you’re mine,” he breathed. “From this moment
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