The True Luna's Forbidden Temptation - Chapter 42: Chapter 42
You are reading The True Luna's Forbidden Temptation, Chapter 42: Chapter 42. Read more chapters of The True Luna's Forbidden Temptation.
SIX YEARS AGO…
I walk the dark alley, a shorter route from my job back to the Elise’s apartment. It’s tight and dark, and obviously, no woman in her right mind would dare walk this way. But I’ve gotten used to it. Now, I see it like an old friend that keeps me company as I walk alone after long hours of work.
I pulled my jacket tighter, my fingers stiff from the cold. The weight of my backpack dragged me down, making it even more difficult to move forward. It’s filled with printed résumés that had gone ignored today. Another round of plastic smiles and empty promises. We’ll be in touch. But they never did.
‘I can do this!’ I told myself.
It would be easy to put an end to my misery. All I needed to do was break up with Tyler and go home to my father. But I couldn’t do that. Because if I did, then it would mean that my father had been right about Tyler.
My boots struck the concrete too loudly, echoing between the brick walls with a hollow rhythm. The sound made me feel exposed, like something was following me.
This shortcut had become routine—cutting twenty minutes off the walk back to the apartment I shared with Elise. Twenty minutes mattered when you were counting bus fare in coins and skipping lunch to afford cheap coffee during interviews. But tonight, the alley felt different. Pressed in. Off.
I glanced behind me. Empty.
I moved faster.
Trust your instincts. Verify everything else. Dad’s words, repeated often enough to etch themselves in my bone. Every time something felt wrong, that phrase echoed louder.
A low rumble sliced through the silence.
My chest tightened. A motorcycle is approaching. When I turned around, I saw lights from the distance. It was still a good half a kilometer away, but I always had good hearing.
The sound grew rapidly, indicating that it’s getting closer. I froze for a second, then backed against the wall, one hand diving into my pocket to find my pepper spray. My fingers curled around the cold plastic like a lifeline.
The engine’s snarl grew deafening as a single headlight grows brighter behind me. Then it stopped a few feet away from me. I freeze in my place, holding my breath.
Fuck! Will I get mugged tonight?
But I knew that I had nothing on me but a few bucks, not even good enough for bus money.
The engine choked, then went still. Silence returned—but it felt heavier now.
I held my grip tighter. My heartbeat thundered against my ribs. I calculated my options. Run? No space. Scream? Would anyone hear? Fight? Try me, I thought bitterly, adjusting my stance.
The rider didn’t move.
Then he held his palms up in front of me. “Easy now,” he said. His voice was muffled through the helmet. “I mean no harm.”
That phrase set every nerve on fire. People with good intentions didn’t have to announce them. My eyes locked on his gloved hands. No weapon. Yet.
He reached up, removed the helmet. Dark hair. Thirties, maybe. His hood was still up, casting shadows across his face, concealing the eyes—the part that was supposed to let me judge if he’s good or bad, friend or foe… if he’s lying or telling the truth.
“Who are you?” I asked. My voice was surprisingly steady, even though my hands weren’t.
“I came to give you something,” he said.
“So, you know me?” I asked.
He heaved a frustrated sigh. “I wish I didn’t.”
I blinked. “What’s that supposed to mean—”
“Analise,” he said, cutting me off.
‘So he really does know me.’
From inside his jacket, he pulled a black envelope. Not the standard ones you bought from your local stationery shop. This one looked expensive. The kind of stationery that whispered wealth, power, and DANGER. The kind of paper that meant secrets.
He extended it toward me.
I didn’t move.
“I don’t know what games you’re playing,” I said. “But please leave me out of it.”
“It’s not a game,” he said. “This—” he paused, voice suddenly gentler “—is for when there’s no one left to call. When things fall apart.”
“What does that mean? What’s inside?”
He hesitated. “I hope you never have to find out.”
I raised a brow at him. “That makes absolutely no sense. You’re handing me something but praying I never use it?”
His shoulders lifted in the barest shrug. “Exactly.”
I stopped short, not because of what he said, but by how he said it. Like the envelope was a loaded gun. Like giving it to me was a last resort.
I looked down at it. The envelope felt more like a death sentence.
“Who sent you?” I asked.
He shook his head. “I can’t tell you that.”
“Can’t? Or won’t?”
He sighed again. “Both.”
I looked at him, trying to make out what he looked like. I caught the faintest glimpse of his eyes—dark, serious, tired. Eyes that had seen things they wished they could forget.
“When you use it,” he added, “you’ll understand.”
A chill slid down my spine.
“This is some weird prank, right?” I tried to laugh, but it fell flat. “Did Elise put you up to this?”
His voice lowered. “This isn’t a prank. And there are things—real things—you don’t know. About this city. About the people around you.”
He stopped himself, jaw tightening.
“Just don’t open it. Not unless you absolutely have to. Lives could depend on that.”
Lives.
Something in his tone cut through me. No theatrics. No drama. Just terrifying sincerity. He wasn’t threatening me—he was warning me.
“If you don’t want me to use it,” I said slowly, “why are you giving it to me at all?”
His expression—what little I could see—shifted. Regret? Resentment?
“Because I was told to. I don’t have a choice.”
“Who told you?”
He exhaled slowly. “Someone who cares a big deal about what happens to you.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“It’s the only one I can give.”
My fingers twitched. Part of me wanted to grab the envelope, tear it open, scream at the absurdity of all of this. Another part—the part still echoing with trust your instincts—knew better.
“What is this thing, really?” I asked.
He met my gaze. For a moment, he didn’t say anything. Then finally, he said, “A lifeline.”
Before I could say another word, he put the helmet back on. The visor slid down, shutting me off completely.
“Wait,” I called out.
But the engine roared, drowning my voice. A moment later, he vanished down the alley like a ghost dissolving into the dark.
I stood frozen, heart hammering, hand still clenched around the pepper spray.
The envelope lay untouched on the ground.
And I had no idea if I’d just dodged danger—or been handed the beginning of it.
I walk the dark alley, a shorter route from my job back to the Elise’s apartment. It’s tight and dark, and obviously, no woman in her right mind would dare walk this way. But I’ve gotten used to it. Now, I see it like an old friend that keeps me company as I walk alone after long hours of work.
I pulled my jacket tighter, my fingers stiff from the cold. The weight of my backpack dragged me down, making it even more difficult to move forward. It’s filled with printed résumés that had gone ignored today. Another round of plastic smiles and empty promises. We’ll be in touch. But they never did.
‘I can do this!’ I told myself.
It would be easy to put an end to my misery. All I needed to do was break up with Tyler and go home to my father. But I couldn’t do that. Because if I did, then it would mean that my father had been right about Tyler.
My boots struck the concrete too loudly, echoing between the brick walls with a hollow rhythm. The sound made me feel exposed, like something was following me.
This shortcut had become routine—cutting twenty minutes off the walk back to the apartment I shared with Elise. Twenty minutes mattered when you were counting bus fare in coins and skipping lunch to afford cheap coffee during interviews. But tonight, the alley felt different. Pressed in. Off.
I glanced behind me. Empty.
I moved faster.
Trust your instincts. Verify everything else. Dad’s words, repeated often enough to etch themselves in my bone. Every time something felt wrong, that phrase echoed louder.
A low rumble sliced through the silence.
My chest tightened. A motorcycle is approaching. When I turned around, I saw lights from the distance. It was still a good half a kilometer away, but I always had good hearing.
The sound grew rapidly, indicating that it’s getting closer. I froze for a second, then backed against the wall, one hand diving into my pocket to find my pepper spray. My fingers curled around the cold plastic like a lifeline.
The engine’s snarl grew deafening as a single headlight grows brighter behind me. Then it stopped a few feet away from me. I freeze in my place, holding my breath.
Fuck! Will I get mugged tonight?
But I knew that I had nothing on me but a few bucks, not even good enough for bus money.
The engine choked, then went still. Silence returned—but it felt heavier now.
I held my grip tighter. My heartbeat thundered against my ribs. I calculated my options. Run? No space. Scream? Would anyone hear? Fight? Try me, I thought bitterly, adjusting my stance.
The rider didn’t move.
Then he held his palms up in front of me. “Easy now,” he said. His voice was muffled through the helmet. “I mean no harm.”
That phrase set every nerve on fire. People with good intentions didn’t have to announce them. My eyes locked on his gloved hands. No weapon. Yet.
He reached up, removed the helmet. Dark hair. Thirties, maybe. His hood was still up, casting shadows across his face, concealing the eyes—the part that was supposed to let me judge if he’s good or bad, friend or foe… if he’s lying or telling the truth.
“Who are you?” I asked. My voice was surprisingly steady, even though my hands weren’t.
“I came to give you something,” he said.
“So, you know me?” I asked.
He heaved a frustrated sigh. “I wish I didn’t.”
I blinked. “What’s that supposed to mean—”
“Analise,” he said, cutting me off.
‘So he really does know me.’
From inside his jacket, he pulled a black envelope. Not the standard ones you bought from your local stationery shop. This one looked expensive. The kind of stationery that whispered wealth, power, and DANGER. The kind of paper that meant secrets.
He extended it toward me.
I didn’t move.
“I don’t know what games you’re playing,” I said. “But please leave me out of it.”
“It’s not a game,” he said. “This—” he paused, voice suddenly gentler “—is for when there’s no one left to call. When things fall apart.”
“What does that mean? What’s inside?”
He hesitated. “I hope you never have to find out.”
I raised a brow at him. “That makes absolutely no sense. You’re handing me something but praying I never use it?”
His shoulders lifted in the barest shrug. “Exactly.”
I stopped short, not because of what he said, but by how he said it. Like the envelope was a loaded gun. Like giving it to me was a last resort.
I looked down at it. The envelope felt more like a death sentence.
“Who sent you?” I asked.
He shook his head. “I can’t tell you that.”
“Can’t? Or won’t?”
He sighed again. “Both.”
I looked at him, trying to make out what he looked like. I caught the faintest glimpse of his eyes—dark, serious, tired. Eyes that had seen things they wished they could forget.
“When you use it,” he added, “you’ll understand.”
A chill slid down my spine.
“This is some weird prank, right?” I tried to laugh, but it fell flat. “Did Elise put you up to this?”
His voice lowered. “This isn’t a prank. And there are things—real things—you don’t know. About this city. About the people around you.”
He stopped himself, jaw tightening.
“Just don’t open it. Not unless you absolutely have to. Lives could depend on that.”
Lives.
Something in his tone cut through me. No theatrics. No drama. Just terrifying sincerity. He wasn’t threatening me—he was warning me.
“If you don’t want me to use it,” I said slowly, “why are you giving it to me at all?”
His expression—what little I could see—shifted. Regret? Resentment?
“Because I was told to. I don’t have a choice.”
“Who told you?”
He exhaled slowly. “Someone who cares a big deal about what happens to you.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“It’s the only one I can give.”
My fingers twitched. Part of me wanted to grab the envelope, tear it open, scream at the absurdity of all of this. Another part—the part still echoing with trust your instincts—knew better.
“What is this thing, really?” I asked.
He met my gaze. For a moment, he didn’t say anything. Then finally, he said, “A lifeline.”
Before I could say another word, he put the helmet back on. The visor slid down, shutting me off completely.
“Wait,” I called out.
But the engine roared, drowning my voice. A moment later, he vanished down the alley like a ghost dissolving into the dark.
I stood frozen, heart hammering, hand still clenched around the pepper spray.
The envelope lay untouched on the ground.
And I had no idea if I’d just dodged danger—or been handed the beginning of it.
End of The True Luna's Forbidden Temptation Chapter 42. Continue reading Chapter 43 or return to The True Luna's Forbidden Temptation book page.