The True Luna's Forbidden Temptation - Chapter 53: Chapter 53

Analise.
I can hardly recognize myself as I stare back at my own reflection in the mirror.
The woman who stares back at me holds fire in her eyes, no longer dimmed by sheer disappointment. She has newfound strength and confidence that she didn’t seem to have before.
I am wearing a white dress that hugs my curves like it was made for me alone. The crystal beads glitter like magic with every move that I make.
In my chest rests an enchantingly unique pendant. The Moonstruck. A reminder of why I deserve this night. Right in this gala meant to introduce me as SB Capitals’s new CEO.
"It's nearly time, Ms. McGregor." The hotel suite's door opens just enough for Julian's voice to slip through. "The car will be waiting downstairs in fifteen minutes."
"Thank you," I call back, my voice steadier than I feel.
I look back at the mirror. Sebastian delivered a white cocktail dress this morning, and it's just perfect—elegant without being garish, with an expensive fabric that whispers rather than shouts. With each movement, tiny crystals that resemble falling stars scatter down one side of the neckline and catch light. My hair falls in soft waves around my shoulders and looks effortless.
But it’s the pendant that draws more attention. Moonstruck feels at home against my skin. The crescent moon cradling the full one, the blue jade holding light in its depths.
My fingers tremble slightly as I touch it, still unable to believe how much my l ife had changed in a space of two weeks.
Two weeks ago, I was Tyler's wife, baking cakes and designing jewelry that would bear his name, not mine. Tonight, I'll walk into the SB Capitals Gala as its new CEO.
The thought made me even more nervous.
‘What if I fail? What if I'm not ready?’
"Stop it," I whisper to my reflection. "This has always been your destiny.”
I reach for the small velvet box on the vanity, opening it to reveal my mother's emerald earrings. The ones I kept safe in my jewelry box. I fasten them carefully, watching how they catch the light. My mother's legacy. A reminder of who I really am.
I left Analise Lewis behind. I will never again be known by that name.
Tonight, I am, once again, Analise Emerald Lander McGregor.
I take one last look at myself. The woman in the mirror looks powerful. Ready. But beneath the smooth fabric and careful makeup, my heart hammers against my ribs like it's trying to escape.
"You can do this," I tell myself. "For yourself. For your father."
‘For Sebastian,’ whispers that voice in my head.
I push that thought away as I grab my clutch and head for the door.
Julian is waiting in the hallway, impeccable in his black suit. His expression is unreadable as always, but I catch something like approval in his eyes as he stares back at me.
"You look ready," he says simply.
"I hope so." I smooth my dress nervously. "It’s not every day I get to be introduced as the CEO of a huge investment firm like SB Capitals."
Julian's mouth curves in what might be a smile. "Just remember—you earned this. Lewis didn't." He offers his arm. "Shall we?"
Julian and I do not speak for the first ten minutes of the ride. I find that oddly comforting. Even though they don’t want to divulge the details of their real relationship, I know that Julian is not just Sebastian’s bodyguard. He’s his closest friend, his right hand man.
"Julian," I begin, "why can't Sebastian publicly acknowledge that he owns SB Capitals? Why all the secrecy?"
He considers my question for a moment. "Sebastian has... other responsibilities. Family ones. Being publicly tied to SB would complicate things for everyone."
"You mean his grandparents?" I recall Sebastian mentioning living with them at the family mansion.
Julian hesitates. "Among others. It's not really my place to explain. You’re gonna have to ask Sebastian directly about that.”
I turn to watch the city lights blur past. Each second brings me closer to—justice!
Years of being dismissed, overlooked, and treated as if I were nothing more than a decorative accessory flash through my mind. Vivian’s smirk and pride whenever she tells me I’d be nothing if it weren’t for Tyler.
"Nervous?" Julian asks, noticing my clenched hands.
"Terrified," I admit. "But in a good way. Like standing at the edge of a cliff, knowing you have wings but you've never used them before."
He nods. "Sebastian believes in you. Just always remember that. Because that alone counts for a lot of things.”
The car slows, then stops. Through the window, I see the red carpet leading up the hotel steps, photographers lining the sides, flashbulbs already popping for the early arrivals.
"Ready?" Julian asks.
I take a deep breath and nod. "Ready."
The moment the driver opens the door, the world shifts. Camera flashes blind me momentarily. Julian's steady hand at my elbow guides me forward.
I hear whispers as we pass.
’Who is she?’
‘Why is she with Julian Hayes?’
But I keep my chin high, my steps measured.
The Grand Meridian's ballroom is a sea of crystal and champagne, the city's elite mingling under chandeliers that drip light like liquid silver. Tables draped in white linen circle a gleaming dance floor. A string quartet plays softly in one corner, nearly drowned out by the hum of conversation.
My eyes scan the room instinctively, searching.
And there he is.
Sebastian stands across the room, deep in conversation with two men in expensive suits. He wears black, as always, the tailoring impeccable, making him look more dangerous than anyone has a right to in formal wear. Even from this distance, he commands attention, an invisible current of power flowing around him.
As if sensing my gaze, he looks up. Our eyes lock across the crowded room. He doesn't smile—not exactly—but something in his expression softens for just a moment before he returns to his conversation.
We agreed not to interact directly tonight. No one can know our connection—not yet. It would raise too many questions, complicate the narrative we're crafting.
"Ms. McGregor," a voice speaks beside me. I turn to find an older man with silver hair and shrewd eyes. "Thomas Westfield. I’m a Director at SB Capitals." He extends his hand. "I've been looking forward to meeting you."
I smile, shaking his hand firmly. "The pleasure is mine, Mr. Westfield."
"I must admit, when Julian first mentioned you for the position, I was skeptical." His eyes assess me carefully. "But your portfolio is impressive. What you accomplished at TL Glam, with so little recognition... well, it speaks volumes."
"Thank you," I say, warmth spreading through me at his words. "I'm looking forward to showing what I can do with proper resources and recognition."
Julian appears at my side, champagne flute in hand. "Everybody is curious and a lot of people would want to meet you,” he announces. “Mr. Westfield, if you'll excuse us? I need to introduce Ms. McGregor to some key partners."
We move through the crowd, Julian's presence parting the sea of people effortlessly. He introduces me to designers, manufacturers, investors—all vital connections for my new role. I smile, shake hands, make mental notes of names and faces. It is actually easier than I thought.
Until I see them.
Tyler stands near the bar, one hand in his pocket, the other holding a crystal tumbler of amber liquid. His mother and sister flank him like guards, Vivian draped in too many diamonds, Tanya in a dress that reveals more than it conceals.
They are the ones that matters more than the others.
This show, after all, is about them, as much as it is about me.
"Do you want to do this now?" Julian asks quietly, following my gaze. “Are you ready?”
I nod, straightening my spine and raising my chin. "More than ready."
We approach them slowly.
I watch the exact moment Tyler spots me—his eyes widen, the glass pausing halfway to his lips. Confusion flickers across his face, then shock as his gaze drops to the pendant at my throat.
"Mr. Lewis," Julian says smoothly. "Allow me to introduce Analise Lander McGregor, the new CEO of SB Capitals.”
The world stops for a moment.
Then Tyler’s glass slipsf rom his fingers, shattering into a million pieces on the marble floor. The amber liquid splashes across his expensive shoes, but he doesn’t even care about it right now. His face drains of color as she stares back at me.
Beside him, Vivian’s Botoxed face contorts in shock. Her hand flies to her throat, nervously clutching her pearls. The haughty superiority she has constantly used on me for years crumbles right before my eyes.
Tanya stumbles backward slightly. The shock on her face is almost comical—eyes wide, mouth open.
‘If only I could snap a photo of their expression, it would be priceless!”
"McGregor?" Tyler repeats, his voice strangled.