Luna POV
“Babes, give me my trousers, please,” Justin’s voice cuts through the silence, sharp and casual, as if nothing is wrong, as if he didn’t spend last night doing God knows what. There's no way he was working.
I sigh, walking across the room, grabbing his trousers from the chair. But as I lift them, something falls out—a small, crumpled packet. My stomach twists as I pick it up, my eyes locking onto the empty condom wrapper. A cold wave of dread crashes over me. I shouldn’t care, not after everything that’s happened, not after what I’ve gone through with my stalker. But I do care. I care too much.
“What’s this?” I ask, holding it up, my voice low but steady, my gaze never leaving his face. I see it immediately—the flicker of humour, the hesitation before he speaks. He’s about to
