Chapter 8 Deposit
1166 Words
The notification came through while I was still standing in Adrian’s kitchen.
A soft vibration against the marble counter.
My eyes dropped to my phone.
A banking alert.
For a second, I did not move. I simply stared at the screen, my pulse slowing and quickening all at once.
Adrian said nothing.
Of course, he did not.
He already knew what it was.
Slowly, I reached for the phone and unlocked it. My thumb hovered for the briefest moment before I opened the message.
Incoming transfer received.
The figure beneath it made my breath catch.
I read it once.
Then again, and then a third time, because my mind refused to accept that those numbers could belong to someone like me.
My chest tightened unexpectedly. “Oh, that was fast. I cannot believe that it’s real,” I said quietly, more to myself than to him. I blinked a couple of times, unable to take my eyes off the screen that stared right back at me.
“Yes.” That one word settled heavily in the room.
I looked back at the screen, the amount still staring up at me, impossible and solid all at once.
Without warning, memories of Noel came rushing back.
We should wait until next month.
Money’s tight right now.
Why do you always make everything about money, Luna?
Your little job pays enough for now, doesn’t it?
I clenched my jaw.
My little job was not just any little job. It was three years of hard work. Three years of my life spent building campaigns, managing impossible clients, fixing disasters other people created, and being expected to smile through it all. Three years of late nights at the marketing agency, while Noel dismissed it like a hobby whenever it suited him.
How many times had I covered his arse because he was in between opportunities? How many plans had I delayed because we were not ready financially? How much I had sacrificed for that man because I thought we were in love, the real deal.
How many times had I made myself smaller so someone else could feel bigger?
Too many.
I locked the phone and carefully placed it back on the counter.
“You seem surprised, Luna. The money is real, and it is yours to do as you wish with.” Adrian said firmly.
That surprised me.
“You expected me to react differently?” I asked, an eyebrow raised.
Adrian leaned one shoulder against the counter, watching me with that same unreadable calm that seemed to send a strange shiver down to my core.
“I did not expect anything.”
“That’s a lie.”
“It’s an observation,” he corrected.
I almost smiled.
Even now, he chose precision over warmth.
“What did you observe?” I asked.
“That you are not shocked by the money,” he said. “You are shocked by what it represents.”
The words landed cleanly.
Because he was right.
It was not the number.
It was what came with it.
Options.
Distance.
Movement.
Freedom.
I walked toward the floor-to-ceiling windows, phone still in my hand, and looked out over the city below. Morning traffic crawled through the streets. People hurried along pavements, coffee cups in hand and tired faces, chasing routines they probably hated.
Somewhere out there was the house I had walked out of.
Somewhere out there were Noel and Mira, likely drowning in excuses and blame, maybe even f*****g each other like I was never a problem to them.
For the first time since discovering them together, the thought did not hollow me out. A strange calm settled in the pit of my chest, and I felt like I could breathe a little better.
I could start again. No Noel to cling to me.
A new flat. A new postcode. New furniture no one had lain on. Fresh sheets that did not smell like betrayal. A front door no one had keys to but me.
I could rebuild everything.
I could even stop letting my career happen to me. No more taking whatever clients were thrown at me. No more apologising for wanting more. No more pretending to be grateful for being overworked and underpaid.
“This is what you wanted me to realise, isn’t it?” I asked quietly, still facing the glass.
Behind me, Adrian was silent for a moment.
“No,” he said eventually. “What you realise is your business.”
I turned then.
He meant it.
That was the unsettling part.
He was not trying to rescue me. He was not dressing this up as romance or pretending to be noble.
He had offered terms.
The rest was mine.
“You really do not care what I use it for?” I asked.
“No. Why would I?”
“Even if I disappear after this contract is down with?”
A pause.
“If that is what you choose.”
I searched his face for something more.
Disappointment. Possessiveness. Irritation.
There was nothing obvious there.
Just control.
And maybe—if I looked closely enough—curiosity.
I walked back to the counter and picked up the contract again. My signature stared back at me from the bottom of the page.
Luna Carter.
It looked like someone else’s name.
Someone sharper.
Someone smarter.
Someone who did not wait around to be chosen.
Maybe she had been there all along.
“I need a place,” I said, closing the folder.
“Then find one.”
I blinked.
“That’s it?”
“What were you expecting?”
“I do not know.” I let out a short laugh. “Instructions.”
“I do not manage women, Luna.”
“No,” I said dryly. “You just hand them contracts.”
Something close to amusement touched his mouth.
“Only the interesting ones.”
Warmth flickered through me, immediate and unwelcome.
I ignored it.
“This changes nothing,” I said.
“It changes only what you choose to change.”
That answer lingered.
I picked up my bag from the chair where I had dropped it the night before. My clothes suddenly felt too small for the woman standing in them now.
At the door, I paused.
Adrian had not moved to stop me.
Had not offered to drive me.
Had not asked when he would see me next.
Again—no performance.
No unnecessary sentiment.
I should have found that cold.
Instead, I found it strangely respectful.
“When do I hear from you?” I asked.
“When it is relevant,” he said.
Then he picked up his jacket and left the room without another glance back.
I stood alone in the silent penthouse, my bag over one shoulder, money in my account, and choices where fear used to be.
Noel thought betraying me had ruined me.
He was wrong.
It had introduced me to the woman I was about to become.
- Writer
