Luna stumbled forward—lost in the storm, her mind spinning—until she bumped into a tall, muscular figure.
It was Alex.
Watch it," he said with a calm, almost amused expression. Then, noticing her soaked form and blank eyes, he softened. "Do you want an umbrella? You can take this one. I'll grab a taxi."
Luna didn't respond right away. Her voice, when it came, was distant—flat.
Sorry… thank you, but… no need."
No eye contact. No emotion. Her soul felt miles away.
Alex glanced around—empty streets, flickering street lamps, the sound of thunder rumbling in the distance.
"Well… are you alone?" he asked, concern rising in his voice. "I mean, aren't you scared? There are creepy men out there. Someone could harm you."
She still didn't respond.
"Can I call your family?" Alex offered, stepping closer, his voice gentle now.
Luna looked up and smiled—a dangerous, broken smile.
Thank you," she whispered, "but I hope you won't mind me speaking rudely."
Alex blinked. "Sorry, but—"
Before he could finish, Luna fainted—her body collapsing forward into his chest.
Hey—careful!" Alex caught her swiftly, alarm flashing in his eyes. He lifted her into his arms, bridal style. "Miss? Miss, wake up! You're burning up… do you have a fever? Damn. I'll call a taxi—just hold on."
Cradling her gently, Alex tried to get a response, but Luna remained unconscious. He reached into her bag and found a small secret pocket. Inside was a wallet packed with money and three sleek credit cards. He pulled out her phone—it was locked.
He tried several passcodes, but none worked. Finally, he opened the Emergency Contacts section.
There was only one number: Max.
He called it.
The phone rang… and then Max hung up.
Alex tried again.
No answer
Again.
Still nothing.
Frustrated and growing more worried by the second, Alex looked at Luna—so pale, her soaked hair clinging to her cheeks—and made a decision.
Take us to Valerian Villa," he told the taxi driver firmly.
When they arrived, he carried Luna inside, his arms steady but his heart racing. He took her to the guest bedroom—his quiet sanctuary—and laid her gently on the soft sheets. Without wasting a second, he called the family doctor.
While he waited, he sat beside her and looked at her carefully. There was something about this girl—this stranger with a fire hidden under layers of pain.
The doctor arrived shortly after.
What happened to her?" Alex asked immediately.
"She's just caught a fever," the doctor replied kindly. "The rain and the cold got to her. It's nothing serious—just a bit of flu. She should be fine in a day or two. I'll leave some medicine."
Thank you, Doctor. What's the fee?"
500."
I'll pay now," said Alex, handing over the cash.
After the doctor left, Alex stood there for a moment—awkward, hesitant. He knew her clothes were soaked, and she'd be uncomfortable if they dried on her.
But he couldn't bring himself to touch her. His cheeks flushed, and he stepped away. Instead, he called Mrs. Lian, his elderly house cook—a sweet woman who had cared for him since childhood.
She arrived quickly, even at night, and without question, gently changed Luna into warm, dry clothes.
Later, after Mrs. Lian had left, Alex returned to the room. Luna was now resting peacefully—her breathing steady, her face calm, her beauty glowing even in illness. Her hair spread softly over the pillow, and the light from the lamp made her skin glow like moonlight.
He watched her silently.
Just as he was about to turn away, Luna's hand reached out—gently but firmly gripping his wrist.
She didn't open her eyes. She was still asleep.
But she held onto him. Tight.
Alex froze, his eyes wide. Midnight surrounded them like a spell. He sat back down slowly, her fingers still wrapped around his wrist.
He stayed like that—awake, unmoving—as the night whispered on.