Shattered Moonlight, Broken Luna Chapter 03

Shattered Moonlight, Broken Luna Chapter 03

I didn’t get out.

Mr. Anderson had told me the guests in the SVIP room had specifically asked for me to serve them the whole night. If I walked away, the twenty-thousand tip would vanish. They might even dock my base pay.

I really needed the money. Mom’s dialysis next month was still unpaid. The landlord had just texted to remind me the next quarter’s rent was due.

So I went to the restroom, handled the cut briefly, and went back into that suffocating room.

When I opened the door again, the mood had changed. The polished, high-end elites had started shedding their masks. Under enough alcohol, everyone eventually reverted to something closer to their original species.

They were playing truth or dare.

Cheap game, eternally effective. With liquor, it was the sharpest knife for cutting open the thin skin of decency.

Empty bottles covered the table, Louis XIII, Hennessy Richard, Armand de Brignac… the price of those bottles together could have bought me a small bathroom in this city.

Ella was clearly drunk. Her cheeks were flushed, her whole body draped over Damien like she was part of him, eyes glassy and fever-bright.

She was the star of the night, the victor, and she knew it.

About to sign a mate bond with Alpha Damien, about to become the envied Luna of Darkhawl Pack, she was drunk on more than just alcohol.

“Come on, next round! Who’s it this time?”

An empty bottle spun across the marble tabletop, scraping out a harsh little whine.

Everyone held their breath and watched the neck. Slowly, the bottle lost momentum and stopped. The mouth pointed straight at Ella.

“Wow, prom queen hits the jackpot!”

“Truth or dare?”

Ella giggled, waving her hand, eyes hazy. “Truth! There is nothing I am afraid to say.”

Nick rubbed his hands together with a nasty grin, his gaze sliding between me and Ella. He clearly wanted blood.

“All right, something spicy then. Ella, what is the most vicious, most heartless thing you have ever done in your life?”

The room went a notch quieter. We were all adults. Everyone had something that should never see daylight.

But this was the game. The point was not comfort.

Damien had been sitting with his eyes closed, head tipped back. When he heard the question, he only lifted his lids a fraction, indifferent, not stopping it.

In his mind, Ella was a sweet, sheltered princess. Spoiled, yes, but never truly cruel.

Ella hiccupped, her gaze drifting over the crowd, until it landed on me, standing in the corner, refilling someone’s water.

Her lips curved into a sharp, ugly smile. The alcohol had numbed her brain and freed every rotten bit of jealousy and malice she had ever hidden.

“The most vicious thing, huh…” She swayed as she stood, lifting one finger and pointing right at me. “Seven years ago, that thunderstorm night when I went to Damien’s apartment to see him…”

The moment she said “seven years ago,” my hand shook, and the hot water nearly sloshed over the rim of the pot. Damien’s body went rigid too, just for a second.

Everyone knew that night was Alpha Damien’s taboo. No one was allowed to touch it.

Because that was the night his beloved girlfriend, his fated mate, had “rejected” him.