The True Luna's Forbidden Temptation - Chapter 14: Chapter 14

Analise.
Rage coils hot and silent beneath my skin as I shove through the glass doors of Tyler's office. Five years—five brutal, sleepless years—turning cocktail napkin sketches into a jewelry empire, and this is my reward? A vice president title handed to Pia Monroe behind my back. Every step I take across the marble floor echoes like a gunshot, sharp and furious.
“I’ve never used my position as the CEO’s wife,” I mutter to myself. “But there’s a limit to my patience.”
The hallway stretches before me, lined with glass-walled meeting rooms where our iconic designs are made. My department. My vision. I built this wing with my bare hands and sleepless nights. Now, I'm supposed to report to Pia Monroe, whom I beat in our final college thesis?
Tyler's secretary—a rail-thin woman with severely pulled-back hair—looks up as I approach, her face instantly hardens into a mask of cold arrogance.
"Ms. Lander," she says, one hand already moving protectively toward her phone. "Do you have an appointment?"
"I never needed an appointment to see Tyler before.”
Her lips thin into a bloodless line. "Mr. Lewis is very busy today, meeting with a… potential business partner and collaborator. I'll be happy to schedule you for tomorrow morning."
"I just need a minute," My voice comes out sharper than intended, drawing glances from a passing intern.
She straightens, clearly enjoying this small power. "Company policy applies to everyone, Ms. Lewis. Even the ones who have been here from the beginning, such as yourself. I can't let you interrupt an executive meeting.”
My fingers curl into my palm. I pull my phone from my jacket pocket and dial Tyler's number while maintaining eye contact with her. A small, petty victory when her eyes widen briefly at the sound of Tyler’s personal ringtone.
The phone rings. And rings. Four times before sliding into voicemail.
"Tyler, it's me. We need to talk about Pia. Call me back immediately." I hang up, heat crawling up my neck as the secretary watches with the faintest hint of satisfaction.
"As I said, Mr. Lewis is unavailable. Would you like to make an appointment for tomorrow?"
Before I can respond with something I'll regret, a door opens down the hall and Benjamin appears. Tyler's Chief of Staff since the SB Capitals partnership—his babysitter, more accurately—spots me and his face lights up with genuine warmth.
"There you are!" He strides over, ignoring the secretary's frown. "I've been hoping to catch you today. Come on to my office. Let’s have a chat.”
The secretary watches with narrowed eyes as he ushers me into his office and closes the door.
“So, what’s up?” he asked.
"Is it true about Pia?" I go straight to the point.
Benjamin's smile fades. He sinks into his chair, running a hand through his dark curls. "Tyler was supposed to tell you last night."
"Well, he didn't."
"I'm sorry," he says, and he actually looks ashamed. "Yes, Pia Monroe has been appointed Vice President of Design. You'll be reporting directly to her starting next week."
The confirmation lands like a physical blow. I grip the back of the chair to steady myself. "Why? Why is there suddenly a VP position available?"
Benjamin shifts uncomfortably. "It was part of the SB Capitals requirements. The board demanded a corporate restructuring with proper VP channels for each division."
"Then why wasn't it offered to me?" My voice is dangerously quiet. "I've been the head of this department since we founded the company."
He won't meet my eyes. "I suggested it, actually."
"And?"
"Tyler said he couldn't afford to lose you from your current role." Benjamin looks up, his expression pained. "He said you're too valuable as a designer. That promoting you to a high-level administrative position would leave us without anyone as skilled at designing our bestselling pieces."
I laugh, sharp and humorless. "So I'm being punished for being good at my job?"
"It's not like that—" Benjamin sighs. "He said Pia is just filling the title. You're getting a raise to match her salary."
"But she still has authority over me. In the company I built with my husband." The unfairness of it stings like acid. "At university, my Moonstruck collection won over her Flower Bomb. She complained to the department head, but the judges’ cards showed I won by a huge margin. I’m just scared that she’s still holding grudges.”
“You're still the better designer. That's exactly why Tyler wouldn't compromise your position."
I pace the small office, feeling trapped. "Did he even consider how I would feel about this? How this would make me look in front of my colleagues?”
Benjamin watches me nervously. “I told him that. But…” he sighs. I can tell he’s also frustrated. Then, unexpectedly, he says, "Speaking of your Moonstruck design, it would have been nice to see that collection on our display racks.”
I roll my eyes. "Part of our deal with SB was to create Moonstruck as limited edition pieces." I step closer to his desk. “Until now, I haven’t seen come to life.”
He turns away, suddenly very interested in his computer screen.
"Benjamin. What happened to my design?"
"It was never sold to market," he admits quietly. "It never even saw the light."
"What?" The word comes out breathless. “So you mean to say, Tyler sold Moonstruck to SB Capitals, only for SB Capitals to junk it?"
"Not really junk, more like—" Benjamin gestures vaguely. "Box it. It's hidden in a safety deposit box so no one would be able to steal it."
I stand frozen in Benjamin's office, the truth settling over me like winter frost. My Moonstruck collection—my masterpiece—locked away in some corporate vault while Pia gets the title I've earned. The betrayal cuts deeper than I could have imagined. Not just professionally, but personally. Tyler knows what that collection means to me. I agreed to give it to him because I wanted it to come to life and showcased to the world.
"When?" I ask, my voice too calm. "When did this happen?"
Benjamin's fingers tap nervously on his desk. "Moonstruck was a huge part of the deal. In fact, it’s what this company has built on. But the heads of SB Capitals didn’t buy the rights to Moonstruck to sell its pieces. They purchased it so no one else could… keep it.”
“What?” I cannot hear what I just heard. “I believed that Moonstruck was going to be our next big launch. But why would they want to lock it away?" I press closer to Benjamin's desk. "That makes no business sense. Moonstruck would have sold millions.”
"That's just it." Benjamin lowers his voice, though we're alone in his office. "It would have outsold everything else on the market. Including their existing luxury lines."
The pieces click together in my mind with sickening clarity. "They bought it to bury it? Why?"
Benjamin runs a hand over his face. "Look, I probably shouldn't have told you, but it didn't seem right. I have no idea why the boss chose to hide away your work like that.”
I think of all the nights I spent perfecting those designs. The way the moonlight-inspired cuts would catch light from any angle, creating the illusion of internal luminescence. The innovations in setting that no one had attempted before. And this brilliant design will never see light because somebody decided it shouldn’t be brought out to the world.
“Tyler knows about this"?”
I silently pray he will say no. But when he doesn’t say anything for a while, my heart sinks.
“I guess Tyler didn’t really care what happened to Moonstruck as long as he got the funding of SB Capitals.”
Again, I am met with Benjamin’s silence, confirming my suspicions.
Tyler—my husband—sold my design to a company without regard to what would happen to it. He approved hiring a vice president on top of me, without regard to how it would make me look.
‘Do I really know Tyler that well?’