Chapter 13: The Distance Between Us

Luna spent the rest of the morning trying to shake off the weight pressing down on her chest. She was angry at herself—angry for caring too much, for feeling too deeply. But no matter how much she tried to suppress it, the emotions clawed their way back to the surface.

Celeste Monroe.

That name was now etched into her mind like a wound that refused to heal. She hated the way Killian had picked up that call so casually, as if it was nothing. As if Luna was nothing.

But she wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of seeing her unravel.

She had a meeting at a charity event that day—one that required her to be poised, graceful, and entirely unaffected. It was one of the few things she had insisted on maintaining despite their contract marriage. If she was going to be tied to Killian, she was at least going to do something worthwhile with the platform that came with his name.

"Mrs. Blackwell, the car is ready," the driver announced, snapping her from her thoughts.

She nodded, gathering her things and stepping outside. The moment the cool morning breeze touched her skin, she inhaled deeply, trying to clear her mind. She had barely made it to the car when she saw him—Killian, standing by the front steps, dressed in his usual sharp suit, his phone in hand.

Luna hesitated. For a split second, she thought about walking past him without a word. But he noticed her before she could make that decision.

"Where are you going?" His voice was even, but there was something in his gaze—something unreadable.

She met his stare with a practiced indifference. "Charity event. I told you about it last week."

Killian exhaled through his nose, slipping his phone into his pocket. "I'll have someone accompany you."

Luna tilted her head. "I don't need a bodyguard."

He stepped closer, his presence imposing. "It's not up for debate."

Her fingers curled around the strap of her purse. She wanted to argue. Wanted to push back. But deep down, she knew it wasn't about protection. It was about control. And she was so, so tired of being controlled.

Instead of fighting, she simply nodded, turning toward the car. "Whatever you say, Killian."

The ride to the venue was suffocating. Not because of the bodyguard in the front seat, but because of the war raging inside her. She hated that Killian had this effect on her. Hated that he could make her feel unwanted one moment and still manage to dominate her thoughts the next.

By the time she arrived at the event, she had forced a smile onto her lips. The cameras were already flashing, the press eager for another glimpse of the elusive Mrs. Blackwell. She walked with confidence, greeting the organizers, shaking hands, exchanging pleasantries.

But then she saw him.

Adrian.

He was standing near the entrance, looking every bit as polished as she remembered. His sharp features, the way his eyes scanned the crowd—it sent a chill down her spine. He hadn't seen her yet, but she knew it was only a matter of time.

Her heart pounded.

Why was he here?

Before she could react, Adrian's gaze locked onto hers. A slow, knowing smirk curved his lips as he took a step forward, weaving through the guests like a predator who had just found his prey.

"Luna," he greeted, his voice smooth, calculated. "You look stunning, as always."

She forced herself to stand tall. "Adrian."

He chuckled, tilting his head slightly. "No 'Mr. Carlisle'? How informal of you."

She wanted to turn and leave, but she knew that would only make her seem weak. Instead, she stayed rooted in place, meeting his gaze head-on. "What are you doing here?"

Adrian placed a hand over his chest in mock offense. "Can't a man attend a charity event without being interrogated?"

She clenched her jaw. "Don't play games with me."

His smirk widened. "I wouldn't dream of it. But tell me, Luna—does your husband know you're here?"

Her pulse spiked. He was baiting her, and she hated that it was working. Before she could formulate a response, she felt another presence beside her.

A hand landed on her waist.

She didn't have to turn to know who it was.

Killian.

His grip was firm, possessive, his voice calm yet deadly. "Is there a problem here?"

Adrian's expression barely faltered, but Luna caught the flicker of something in his eyes. Something dangerous.

"Not at all," Adrian said smoothly. "I was just catching up with an old friend."

Killian didn't move, his presence a silent warning. "I don't recall Luna ever mentioning you."

Adrian chuckled. "Ah, well. Some things are better left unsaid."

Luna tensed, but before she could speak, Killian tightened his hold on her, pulling her closer. "Then let's keep it that way."

For the first time since the conversation started, Adrian's smirk faded just slightly. He gave a slow nod, taking a step back. "Enjoy your evening, Mr. and Mrs. Blackwell."

Luna exhaled as soon as Adrian disappeared into the crowd. But she didn't have a moment to collect herself because Killian turned to her, his grip still firm on her waist.

"Why didn't you tell me he would be here?" His voice was low, barely above a whisper, but the tension in it was unmistakable.

Luna met his gaze, searching for any sign of warmth. There was none.

"I didn't know," she said honestly.

Killian studied her for a long moment before releasing his hold. "Let's go."

Luna frowned. "What?"

"We're leaving."

Her chest tightened. "I have obligations here—"

"I don't care." His voice was sharper now, colder. "You're not staying."

She should have fought him. Should have reminded him that he didn't control her. But the intensity in his eyes—the possessiveness, the fury—it left her momentarily speechless.

And against her better judgment, she let him lead her away.

As they stepped outside, into the cold night air, Luna realized something.

Killian wasn't just possessive. He wasn't just angry.

He was afraid.

And that terrified her more than anything else.