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143

~Belinda’s POV

In the end, my heart kept going back to the third Jeweler’s set. It wasn’t too loud, not too heavy. It felt like .

Finally, I pointed at her. "I’ll go with this one. Thank you."

The chosen jeweler bowed deeply. "It will be my honor to serve you, Luna."

Kael leaned back in his chair, satisfied. "Good choice."

Rowan agreed. "It suits you."

Next were the hairdressers.

I closed my own for a mont, imagining myself walking in with them on that day. My heart told simple, elegant, not too much. I opened my eyes and pointed at the second woman. "The long waves with the delicate pins... I like that."

She bowed imdiately. "I will make sure you shine, Luna."

Kael smiled warmly. "Perfect."

Rowan squeezed my hand. "Now everything is falling into place."

The others bowed and began to pack their things. Soon the room grew quieter again, just , Kael, and Rowan. I let out a small breath of relief. "That’s done."

"You did well," Kael said softly. "It wasn’t easy, but you followed your heart."

I nodded, but inside , there was a small ache. I wished Damon had been here too, to see choosing, to tease maybe, or to smile at like he used to. I bit my lip and pushed the thought away quickly.

Rowan noticed my silence. "Belinda?"

I forced a smile. "I’m fine. Just... tired."

They exchanged a look but didn’t press. After a while, the maids cleared the room, leaving alone to rest. But I couldn’t rest. My heart kept beating fast, restless. Before I knew it, I found myself walking quietly through the hallway, searching. Searching for him.

I turned a corner, and then I stopped. My breath caught in my throat. Damon was there... but he wasn’t alone. I watched as he walked straight to Lisa’s door and pushed it open without hesitation, stepping inside.

My chest tightened. Heat rose to my face. My mind scread at to look away, to walk back, but my feet stayed glued. He was with her? Why? On today of all days?

I turned sharply, almost bumping into Richard in the hallway. He bowed quickly. "Luna Belinda."

I stared at him for a mont, my mind spinning, my heart aching. Then, before I could stop myself, I grabbed his arm. "Co with ."

His eyes widened. "Luna?"

I didn’t answer. I pulled him into my room and shut the door behind us. The silence was heavy, broken only by my uneven breath. He looked confused, nervous. "What is it?"

I stepped closer, my hand pressing against his chest. "Just... don’t talk."

Before he could react, I leaned in and kissed him hard.

For a mont, the world seed to stop. My lips pressed against his, hot and trembling, and I could feel the shock that ran through him like a jolt of lightning. His whole body tensed under , rigid, as if he didn’t know what to do or even if he should breathe. I felt his surprise in the stiffness of his posture, the way his arms stayed locked at his sides.

But I didn’t stop. I couldn’t.

All the anger boiling inside , all the hurt from seeing Damon slipping into Lisa’s room yet again, it poured out of in that single kiss. My hands clutched at Richard’s shoulders, digging into the fabric of his uniform, almost as if I needed to hold onto sothing solid before I crumbled. My lips moved against his with desperation, with the kind of hunger that ca not from love but from pain.

I was furious, heartbroken, lost, and Richard was right there, within reach.

For a long second, he didn’t respond. I could feel his breath hitching against my mouth, the uncertainty rolling off him. His hands hovered awkwardly near my waist, as though they were caught in the space between pulling closer and pushing away.

And then, slowly, I felt him give in.

Hesitant at first, like a man stepping carefully onto ice that might break beneath him, Richard kissed back. His lips moved against mine, unsure but real, and the mont deepened. My pulse raced, pounding in my ears so loudly that I almost couldn’t hear anything else.

I pressed harder, tilting my head, chasing more from him. My fingers gripped his shoulders so tightly I was sure he would feel the heat of my skin through the layers of cloth. I could feel the strength in his body, the way his muscles flexed beneath my touch, and it only made clutch at him more desperately.

Every movent was a mixture of anger and need. I wasn’t just kissing him; I was pouring out my heartbreak, my jealousy, my exhaustion into that kiss.

Richard’s breath grew heavier. His lips moved more firmly now, though still carefully, as though he was afraid of crossing a line. His hands finally landed at my waist, barely resting there, his fingers twitching against the fabric of my dress like he was holding himself back.

It made even more reckless.

I leaned closer, closing every inch of space between us, pushing myself against him as if he were the only anchor I had left. I wanted to drown out the image of Damon in Lisa’s room, the sting in my chest.

In that mont, I didn’t care about right or wrong. I just wanted to feel sothing other than pain.

His lips were warm, softer, and there was a sweetness in his hesitance that clashed with the wildness in . I kissed him harder, angrier, like I could burn the mory of Damon away if I pressed deeply enough.

Richard let out a small sound, half a gasp, half a groan, and it only pushed further. My hands slipped from his shoulders to his neck, holding him tightly, forcing him to stay in the storm I had pulled him into.

I was desperate. I was angry. I was hurt.

And I kissed him like all of that lived in , raw and uncontained.

When I finally pulled away, my chest was rising and falling quickly, like I had just run a long distance. My lips still tingled from the kiss, "That’s enough," I whispered.

He blinked at , his eyes wide, confusion written all over his face. "Luna..." he started, his voice low, almost questioning, like he wanted to ask why or what just happened.

"Go," I cut him off sharply, taking a step back. My arms wrapped around myself as if to hold the pieces of together. "Just... go. Leave ."

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