Cursed Luna

Chapter 2

I cleared throat standing upright , realizing I was still pressed against his chest.

"I—" My voice cracked. I cleared my throat, trying to balance my footing. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to—"

"Are you okay?." He asked, His voice was low, and soothing.

"I—yes. I tripped. The elevator, it—" I gestured weakly toward the floor, my face burning with embarrassment . "It shook, and I—thank you. For catching me."

He straightened, releasing me slowly, his hands lingering just a second longer than necessary before he stepped back. His expression remained unreadable.

And you are?…

"Andrea Carter." I answered He said my name

"You're here for the interview?”

"Y-yes." I smoothed my skirt, trying to regain some sense of dignity. "I'm supposed to meet someone on the 28th floor."

He didn’t reply but I could feel his gaze boring to my soul.my face, i fingers clutched the strap of my bag nervously.

"You're late," he said finally.

My stomach dropped. "What? No, I—" I searched for my phone in my bag , checking the time it was 8:17 AM. The interview was at 8:15.

"Oh no. Oh no, no, no—" Panic surged through me. I didn't realize—the cab took longer than I thought, and—"

"Follow me”. He said cutting me off.

He turned on his heel and walked out of the elevator. I stood frozen for half a second before my brain kicked into gear.

"Wait—are you—" I hurried after him, my heels clicking frantically as I struggled to keep up. "Are you taking me to the interview?" Are you the one I was supposed to meet in the third floor?

He didn't answer. He just kept walking, his posture was strong rigid, and I could feel a dominating aura oozing out of him.

People moved out of his way in fear , their gazes dropping the moment they saw him.

A lady in a pencil skirt nearly tripped over herself stepping aside.

Whoever this man was, he wasn't just important.

He was feared.

I kept running after him trying to catch up with his pace.

Finally We stopped in front of a heavy oak door. He pushed it open without knocking, revealing a large office.

The room was stunning. Dark wood paneling, bookshelves, a desk the size of a small car positioned in the middle of the office.

And sitting behind the desk was another man.

He looked up as we entered, his expression shifting from irritation to surprise. He looked older—maybe mid-forties—, and he wore a silver watch that probably cost more than my entire apartment.

"Mr. Vanguard." The man behind the desk stood immediately.

. "I wasn't expecting…

"She's here for the interview." He said cutting him off

Wait what?

Mr. Vanguard?

As in—the Vanguard. The founder. Reality crashed down on me.

I was going to pass out.

"Of course, sir." The older man's gaze flicked to me, his smile tight. "Please, Miss Carter. Have a seat."

I moved like flash, sliding into the chair across from the desk. My legs felt like jelly. My hands trembled as I set my bag down beside me.

Mr. Vanguard didn't sit. He stood by the door, arms crossed, watching me with those unnerving silver eyes.

The older man cleared his throat, shuffling through a stack of papers. "Miss Carter. Andrea Carter. Age twenty-three. High school diploma, some college..” He paused, raising an eyebrow. "No degree?"

"I—" My voice wavered. "I had to drop out. Family reasons."

"Mmm." He didn't look impressed. "And your work experience?"

"I've worked retail for the past three years. Customer service, inventory management, some administrative duties—"

"Retail?” He said it like it was a dirty word. "Miss Carter, this is Vanguard Group. We don't hire… inexperienced candidates."

My chest tightened with disappointment . "I understand, sir, but I'm a fast learner. I'm reliable, organized, and I—"

"You're human."

The words landed like a slap.

I froze. My mouth went dry.

He leaned back in his chair, rotating his pen in between his finger.

"You do understand that Vanguard Group employs a very specific… Individuals with… abilities. Skills beyond what a human could offer."

"I—" My voice cracked. "I know that. But I can still—"

"Thank you for your time, Miss Carter." He closed the folder with a sharp snap. "We'll be in touch."

Translation: Don't call us.

I stood slowly, my legs shaking. This was it. The third rejection this week. The fifth this month. I was running out of options, running out of hope, running out of…

"She's hired."

I froze.

The older man blinked. "Sir?"

Mr. Vanguard stepped forward, his gaze still locked on me. "She's hired. Effective immediately."

"But—" The older man sputtered. "Sir, with all due respect, she doesn't have the qualifications—"

"She has what I need." His tone left no room for argument. "Process her paperwork. She starts Monday."

My heart hammered against my ribs. "I what?"

He turned to me, and for the first time, something resembling a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. Making me smile too like it was contagious I could feel tears of joy well up in my eyes.

"Welcome to Vanguard Group, Miss Carter."

And then, just as quickly as he'd appeared, he turned leaving the room.

The door clicked shut behind him, leaving me standing in stunned silence.

The older man stared at me like I'd just sprouted a second head. "What the hell just happened?"

I didn't have an answer.

Because I had no idea.

Deep down I was happy but I knew it was going to be a tough time here.

With the older man whom I later found out to be Robert Wilson and the workers who looked at me like s**t.

But I was ready to endure whatever comes my way.