I arrived at Luna's villa, stepping into a scene I had hoped to avoid.
There, on the living room sofa, sat Michael, quiet and still, with Luna occupying the opposite couch, her face breaking into a smile as she stood to greet .
Michael's face twisted into an expression of sheer terror and absurdity upon seeing , quickly burying his head into his lap, while Luna greeted with a smile.
Standing at the doorway, I was taken aback.
I had assud Michael might be confined in a room sowhere, and my plan was to et Luna first, check on Michael through surveillance, and then decide whether to see him face-to-face.
Yet, here they were together.
"Everyone leave, and don't co back without my order..." Luna commanded the servants as she approached .
The room fell silent, doors shut tightly, leaving only the sound of Michael's heavy breathing—a reminder of his labored breaths during his intimate monts with Betty, though now marked by tension rather than passion.
"I didn't expect you to arrive so soon; I was just advising him on a few things..." Luna remarked, sensing my reluctance to face Michael, her face tinged with guilt.
"Find a room..." I said, my gaze fixed on Michael, who sneaked a glance at but quickly averted his eyes when he noticed my stare.
"Alright..." Luna responded and led the way, with Michael foolishly remaining seated on the sofa.
"Co along..." I called out to Michael, following Luna with a cold detachnt.
It took a while before I heard his dragging footsteps behind .
Once we reached Luna's study, I took a seat on the sofa, assuming the role of the master with Luna standing by my side like a servant.
Michael arrived late, peeking timidly into the room.
When he saw us both watching the door, he quickly withdrew, his cowardly deanor a stark contrast to his dominant presence in bed with Betty.
"Get in here..." Luna's voice cut through the silence, icy and commanding.
Michael stiffened at her command, his body trembling slightly, yet he walked in with hesitant steps, clearly terrified of Luna.
This ordeal had instilled a deep fear of Luna in him, a fear that might haunt him for life.
Michael stood before us, nervously clutching his clothes, a mix of tension and fear evident in his posture.
Looking at Michael, I saw both the man I knew and a stranger.
His dark skin, his strong build, all too familiar.
Yet, the images of him naked, thrusting vigorously atop a similarly bare Betty, filled my mind.
He breathed heavily, and Betty moaned under him...
I shook my head to clear these thoughts, trying to stabilize my breathing and calm my emotions.
My feelings towards Michael were complex—hatred intertwined with a reluctant empathy, tied to the debts of a past life now being repaid.
"For your mother's sake, walk a straight path from now on..." I intended to confront Michael about his actions, but what could a young man in the throes of adolescence say that would matter?
So, I opted for a platitude instead.
Strangely, Michael cald down after hearing my words, slowly raising his head to et my gaze, his eyes filled with an unidentifiable emotion.
"Can we talk alone?" Michael asked, his eyes fixed on , ignoring Luna.
His deanor had shifted dramatically from fear to a composed presence, making wonder if his earlier fear was feigned or if this calm was a facade.
Hearing Michael's request, I hesitated and turned to look at Luna.
She seed to understand my intent from my expression, hesitating briefly with a flicker of conflict in her eyes before sighing and slowly walking towards the door.
As Luna's figure receded, I felt a peculiar sense of unease that had been lingering for a while.
From the mont Luna unexpectedly urged reconciliation with Betty, her behavior had seed off.
And now, her hesitation and struggle to leave—was there sothing I was missing?
With the door closing behind Luna, the room was left in silence, filled only by the complex relationship between Michael and —nominally foster father and son, but in reality, husband and interloper.
"What do you want to talk about?" Michael asked, his eyes holding a hint of hostility.
I wasn't surprised by this animosity; I had seen it countless tis in surveillance footage whenever Betty ntioned my na.
To him, I was the rival, the biggest obstacle to his relationship with Betty.
"Do you know why I'm nad Michael?" He asked, taking a deep breath and settling into an unusually calm deanor, his eyes showing a maturity that belied his age.
This question about his na had always been a sensitive topic for , one I preferred to avoid because I knew the significance behind the na Laura had chosen.
I didn't answer but instead sighed deeply, reflecting on my relationship with Laura—a regret that could never be nded.
"Michael, when my mother nad , I didn't understand the significance of the na.
Night after night, I saw her holding a photo of a man, crying secretly in her bedroom, always making sure my father didn't see.
One day when she was out, I sneaked into her drawer and found that photo.
It was you, Justin, tucked inside a notebook filled with entries about her ti with you," Michael said, his head bobbing oddly as he spoke, a sign of psychological distress.
"My father, despite his flaws, wasn't one to pry into others' privacy or read much, so that notebook remained undiscovered in their bedroom.
I was always curious about it, and one day, I read the entire notebook over two days, learning many stories and about you, Mr. Justin," he finished, his eyes glaring at , no longer hiding his resentnt.
"I did have a relationship with your mother, but I never wronged her.
Our love was free and mutual.
The only reason we couldn't be together was my ordinary background, which her parents opposed," I started calmly but softened as I listened to Michael's account.
I believed him and knew Laura's feelings for .
After marrying Betty, I spent many nights missing Laura, reminiscing about our monts together, but I had to avoid dwelling on the past to focus on the present and future.
"You didn't wrong her, huh..." Michael sneered, his face twisting into disdain as he looked at .
This confrontation brought out the complex layers of our intertwined lives, revealing the deep-seated emotions and secrets that had shaped our relationships.
Michael's revelation wasn't just a recount of past events; it was a challenge to the narratives I had told myself, forcing to confront the reality of our shared history and its impact on our present.
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