Chapter Two
1758 Words
Noah
A single rule guided Noah De Luca every day. That quiet habit grew into something much larger than he first imagined.
Staying focused made men stick by their word.
Fear of him never faded because he stuck to his rules.
What held feelings in check was steady discipline. It stopped them turning into flaws.
That moment explained her presence there, sharp under the lights. A figure who didn’t fit the quiet plan anymore. Her stance alone disrupted what others tried to control.
Over by Velvet Rouge, light poured down like honey, catching only her. He did not look away from Luna once. The glow settled in quiet patches across the room. Her shape held his eyes without effort.
Out of place, her presence seemed strange here.
He saw it right away, before anything else.
That red dress fit just right, smooth against her shape, graceful instead of flashy. Under the light, it moved across her deep brown skin, warmth shining through like sunlight on amber. Men would recall her silhouette later - gentle curves where it mattered, full without effort, real in a way few ever were.
Inside Velvet Rouge, a hunger for eyes pulled every woman toward the light. Models stood stiff, their grins practiced over weeks. Diamond necklaces hung heavy on heirs of wealth, glittering without warmth. Attention seekers circled like moths, drawn to any flicker of notice.
But Luna?
Under the glare of the light, she froze, shrinking into herself. The brightness pressed down as if trying to pull her apart. A quiet tension held her still, caught between vanishing and staying seen.
Somehow, she became someone you couldn’t help but see.
Somehow, she became someone you couldn’t help but see.
Beautiful.
Dangerously beautiful.
Wild, midnight-colored waves fell around her cheeks, tangled just enough to seem hurried. A soft shine coated her mouth, plump without trying too hard. Each shift in her face carried weight - never staged, always true.
Fake folks? Noah couldn’t stand them.
Maybe that was why she fascinated him.
Or maybe it was the red heels.
Those damn heels.
Her hands fumbled at the mic stand, fingers brushing metal just before her voice broke the silence.
“Good evening.”
Out of nowhere, a hush fell when she spoke - soft like worn fabric. Silence leaned in, drawn by how each word slipped through the air.
Sound stopped just like that.
Out of nowhere, her voice began to rise. A song slipped into the air.
Back easing into the seat, Noah kept his gaze on her.
Some folks on stage at Velvet Rouge wanted eyes glued their way. Others just liked being seen while they performed.
Luna sang as if each line mattered deeply.
Out of nowhere, her words carried such feeling that the clink of glasses behind the counter just faded out. The air shifted when she spoke, like everyone forgot what they were doing.
Interesting.
Footsteps behind him made Dante glance up - Noah stood stiff, eyes locked ahead. A moment passed before he saw it too: someone watching from across the room.
Was she one of them now? Dante kept his voice low.
A swallow of whiskey passed Noah's lips. He tasted the burn slowly rise behind his eyes.
“Three months.”
“And you’re only noticing her now?”
He looked away instead of answering.
A small smile tugged at Dante's lips. Was it really that intense?
“It’s nothing.”
“Right.” Dante glanced toward the stage. “You’ve been looking at her like you want to start a war.”
A muscle near his mouth twitched slightly. The air between them grew thin.
Beyond doubt, Dante had it right.
It gnawed at him, the way Luna did things, though he couldn’t name why.
That smile of hers, quick to show when meeting someone new.
That little move - her hand sweeping the strand back - as if fixing something that wasn’t loose. A pause hidden in motion. Not quite stillness, but close. How the gesture came without warning, soft and brief. Like a breath caught mid-air. Her fingers brushing the curve just before silence returned.
Her legs drew glances - men in the crowd couldn’t look away. Staring lingered longer than it should have. Each pause felt weighted, eyes tracing without asking. Silence did nothing to stop them. She noticed, though she didn’t turn.
That final piece stands out most of all.
Noah’s expression darkened.
A smirk curled at the edge of his mouth as Luna sat across the room, unaware. His eyes lingered too long, moving slow from her face to her feet. A man used to taking what he wants watched without hiding it. The air between them thickened, though she hadn’t turned yet. Power dripped from his stare like something spoiled left out too long.
Fingers curled slowly around the glass, Noah held on without a word.
Dante noticed immediately.
He whispered it low, a quiet ache behind the words. A hush followed, like something broken in silence.
“What?”
“You’re doing the thing.”
Noah looked at him coldly.
“What thing?”
“The possessive psychopath thing.”
Noah said nothing.
Luna missed a word mid-song, then let out a quiet laugh - shy, real, shaky. The moment hung there, warm and slightly off balance.
People in the stands clapped hard. A rush of cheers followed right after.
Noah did too.
It started there. The issue showed up right away.
She wasn’t polished.
Wasn’t manipulative.
Just standing there, not aiming to charm a soul.
Just her, nothing more.
Somehow, she became a bigger threat than all the others there. That shift came quietly, without warning.
Then it happened.
Out of nowhere, a waiter darted up to the stage, his voice low and quick near Luna’s ear. Suddenly he was there, murmuring words that made her eyes widen slightly under the lights.
The light in her eyes faded fast.
Noah straightened.
Luna looked shaken.
Off went the mic into her outstretched hand, then she moved fast toward the back. Quietly left behind was the spotlight as she stepped away.
Noah stood immediately.
Dante let out a deep breath. There - right in front of them
“What?”
“You’re about to scare somebody.”
Footsteps echoed as Noah walked past, eyes forward, moving down the narrow passage just beyond the stage lights.
Faster than a blink, two guards pulled wide the doors - no words asked. Silence held as hinges groaned under their grip.
Finding herself deep within the store, Luna hovered by the changing area, digging wildly through her tote as she talked into her phone.
“No, please don’t stop her treatment,” she whispered shakily. “I’ll get the money tomorrow, I promise.”
Noah stopped walking.
She spoke, her voice breaking just a little.
A sudden tightness turned inside him, strange and sharp. The feeling wasn’t right, nothing like before. It cut through calm like a blade slipping sideways under skin.
“…Please,” Luna whispered again.
Silence.
The line went quiet after that.
Her hand dropped the phone inch by inch while she pressed shaky fingertips to her eyelids.
From where he stood unseen, Noah kept his eyes fixed. Quietly, he observed without moving a muscle.
That was all there ever needed to be. Done.
Money problems.
Walking away would have been better.
Forward he moved, then.
“You’re crying.”
Her breath caught sharp when the noise hit - Luna jolted, fingers slipping close to losing the phone. The sudden sound tore through the quiet like a snapped wire.
“What is wrong with you?” she snapped. “Do you just appear out of nowhere for fun?”
Her face held Noah's eyes longer than he meant. A quiet moment stretched between them without sound.
Close now, her beauty held more weight.
No heavy makeup.
No fake attitude.
Frayed light sat deep in those warm brown eyes. Their quiet depth held a weariness that spoke without sound.
Real.
That’s plenty, he remarked without rush.
The light in her eyes vanished right then.
“You were listening?”
“You weren’t quiet.”
A flicker of shame crossed her features, then gave way to fury.
“That’s none of your business.”
“Someone’s sick.”
“My mother.”
Out of nowhere, her reply showed up fast - maybe because lying took more energy than she had left.
Noah nodded once.
“What hospital?”
Right away, her eyes tightened into slits.
“No.”
“No?”
“I know men like you.”
That interested him.
“Men like me?”
“Rich men who think money fixes everything.”
A little lean to one side was how Noah moved his head.
“It usually does.”
Luna looked his way, paused just once, then let out a quiet laugh - like she couldn’t quite believe what she was hearing.
And God -
That laugh.
Everywhere, the feeling found Noah. It moved through him without asking.
“You really believe that, don’t you?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“Well, normal people don’t buy affection.”
He showed nothing on his face.
“I wasn’t offering affection.”
A breath passed, thin and quiet. Stillness settled just above their words.
Luna was the one who broke eye contact before he did.
Smart girl.
Then suddenly -
Down the hall, a sharp bang rang out. Something heavy must have hit the floor just now.
Right away, Noah moved - Luna ended up shielded at his back. Behind him, she stayed.
A figure appeared behind the stage curtain, one arm limp, dark stains spreading fast across his shirt. Blood dripped down his fingers, pooling near his boots as he swayed between two equipment cases.
Breathing hard, the man began: “Boss - ”. He sounded like he needed help right away.
A shift came over Noah, sudden and complete.
Cold.
Deadly.
Terrifying.
Luna froze.
A figure dropped suddenly, limbs giving way beneath him. He hit the ground without warning, body folding like paper in rain.
“They found us,” he choked out. “There’s a traitor inside - ”
Gunshots exploded outside.
Her breath caught - Noah's fingers closed around her wrist. A hush spilled from Luna's lips.
“Stay behind me.”
Frost crept into his features, wiping out any trace of gentleness.
Now here it is, just once before never happened
Luna caught sight of the creature everyone talked about in hushed voices.
- Writer
