The True Luna's Forbidden Temptation - Chapter 62: Chapter 62

Analise.
I shut the door behind me and exhale. No fake smiles. No forced pleasantries. No Tyler, no Vivian, no Tanya.
Just silence.
And for the first time all night, it’s mine.
I kick off my heels and walk barefoot across the marble floor, fingers trailing along the cold walls of Sebastian’s mansion. No audience here. No one to impress.
But my heart’s still racing.
Because I did it.
Tyler’s shock. Vivian’s rage. Tanya’s confusion. I replay their faces in my mind, again and again.
‘That felt quite good!’
I trail my fingers along the dark hallway. Silence replaces tonight’s noise. Not even Sebastian’s cold stare could ruin this victory.
Tyler’s face when I took that stage—I wish I had a camera. I would have loved to play that over and over again.
And Vivian? She tried to hide it—oh, she really did. But she did look like a cold bucket had been poured on top of her head.
And Tanya, poor clueless Tanya. She was such a social climber. I bet if she knew who I really was, she’d do anything to be BFFs with me.
“Well, now they know that Karma really is a bitch,” I whisper, a triumphant smile tugging at my lips.
I don’t want to enjoy this, but after everything they did to me? I deserve to bask in this moment.
But as I reach the top of the stairs, my triumphant smile fades. My mind drifts off to one person I can’t seem to escape.
I walk to my room, each step soft against the carpet. In the shadows, I see him as he was tonight—tall, sharp, distant. His blue eyes watching, never revealing enough.
"I don’t want to hurt you, Analise," he once told me.
‘Too late for that, brother. Way too late.’
I turn on the lamp, soft light spilling across my room. I should be celebrating. Instead, he’s still in my head. Like always.
"I want to protect you," he said.
He always says that, but he never explains why.
My mind drifts back to another gala, years ago...
—
Father made me go with Jonathan Mercer, his latest business partner’s son. "Make a good impression," he’d said, barely looking up from his papers. Code for: smile, behave, and don't embarrass me.
Sebastian had been cold all week. Distant. And it hurt more than I wanted to admit.
The gala was the usual—crystal chandeliers, fake laughters, sharp smiles.
Jonathan was polite, but dull. His hand rested too firmly on my back as he guided me through the crowd.
Sebastian stood across the room. Devastatingly handsome. Refusing to meet my eyes. Every glance I stole, he shut me out. Like I didn’t exist.
"Distracted?" Jonathan smirked, his breath too close. "Am I boring you?"
"Not at all," I lied.
"Let’s dance," he said, already pulling me onto the floor.
I let him. His hand at my waist, a little too bold. From the corner of my eye, I saw Sebastian watching. Cold. Distant. Unreadable.
"You’re quite the prize," Jonathan whispered. "Your father didn’t tell me how beautiful you are."
"I didn’t realize I was on sale," I snapped, hiding my disgust behind a smile.
Jonathan laughed, pulling me closer. "Don’t be shy. You know the effect you have."
His hand slipped lower, brushing places it shouldn’t. I shifted away, smile still in place.
"Stop," I hissed, voice tight.
"Why? Girls like you love a little danger," he sneered.
I looked for Father—he was deep in conversation. He wouldn’t help. He never did.
"I said stop!” I glared at him.
But his grip only tightened. "Go ahead. Cause a scene. But we both know who they’ll blame."
Panic started to grip me. I planned my escape. Maybe I should fake a faint, or I should run to the powder room. But then suddenly, Jonathan’s hand was ripped from my body.
"I believe this is my dance," Sebastian said, voice cool and low.
Jonathan scowled. "Excuse me. We're in the middle of something."
Sebastian smiled at him. But it’s the friendly kind. "Walk away. Or I’ll break your arm."
Jonathan paled. He backed off fast. "Fine. She’s not worth it, anyway," he muttered, disappearing into the crowd.
Sebastian turned to me, his expression softer. He held out his hand. "Dance with me."
It wasn’t a request. I took his hand.
"What are you doing?" I whispered as he led me into the dance.
"Saving you. Again," he said.
I wanted to argue. I wanted to say I didn’t need saving. But when he pulled me close, I didn’t want to fight anymore.
We moved as if we’d dance a dozen times before. His warmth, steady and comforting. His heartbeat, fast but even.
"Why do you do this?" I asked quietly. "Ignore me for days, then rescue me like some hero in a story you won’t finish."
He tensed. "It’s… complicated.”
“Is that an answer?”
His eyes met mine—unguarded, raw. "Well, it’s the only one I can give you.”
The music slowed. Silence stretched between us, thick with everything we didn’t say.
When the song ended, he dropped my hand like it burned him. "Don’t let Mercer come near you again," he said, then vanished into the crowd.
—
The memory fades as I brush my hair, calming my restless thoughts. That’s Sebastian. Sweep in, turn my world upside down, and leave me alone to clean up the mess.
Even tonight. He gave me SB Capitals, then told me we couldn’t be seen together. He gave me his empire and yet he seems ashamed to be seen with me?
I set the brush down, sighing. Some puzzles don’t want to be solved.
Then I freeze.
The curtains shift. The balcony door... open.
I didn’t leave it open.
My pulse spikes. Call security? No. Something deeper tells me not to.
I walk toward the balcony. The night air brushes against my skin, jasmine floating from the garden below.
And there he is.
Sebastian. Standing at the railing, his back to me. Moonlight turns his dark hair silver. His tie is loose. Shoulders less tense.
He doesn’t turn. But I know he feels me. He always does.
“Some things never change,” I say, voice quiet but steady. “You. My balcony. Moonlight. Are we really doing this again?”
He turns, slow and deliberate. His face half-shadowed. But his eyes—those piercing blue eyes—find mine without hesitation.
And in them, I see it.
Fear. Longing. And something dangerously close to regret.
“No,” he says at last, his voice low and raw. “Tonight... I’m not walking away.”