Chapter 32: The Price of Exposure

Luna stared at the screen, the words blurring as the weight of the violation settled in.

Her medical history.

Exposed.

The files weren't just a collection of charts and reports—they were raw fragments of her most vulnerable moments. Emergency room visits from years ago, prescriptions she hadn't touched in months, notes scribbled by physicians she'd barely known. Even the one detail she'd worked hard to bury—the panic attack she suffered the year after Killian left her.

That was in there too.

And now Cameron had it. Worse, he intended to make it public.

Luna's breath caught in her throat. Her hands trembled, fists clenching as her chest rose and fell unevenly.

Across the room, Killian stood motionless, the screen in his hands like a grenade he couldn't throw. He didn't speak, didn't move—he just stared at the note Cameron had added beneath the files.

Let's see how well your pretty little wife handles the spotlight, Killian.

The words weren't just meant to provoke. They were meant to humiliate. Dismantle. Undermine Luna's very identity.

And for the first time since this war began, Luna felt truly exposed.

"He won't stop," Avery said softly, her voice cutting through the silence. "Cameron's not aiming for business deals or legal settlements. He's going after character. Reputation."

Luna looked up, her voice hoarse. "What happens when this hits the media?"

Killian's eyes flicked to her. Cold. Calculated. But beneath the surface, something darker burned.

"It won't," he said.

"It already has," Elijah cut in, holding his phone aloft. "There's chatter on social media. Nothing confirmed yet, but the whispers are spreading."

Luna's pulse spiked. "How much time do we have before it explodes?"

"Hours," Elijah said grimly. "If not less."

Killian set the tablet down with a quiet thud and turned toward the center of the room. "We issue a cease and desist to every news outlet. Flag this as an invasion of privacy. Threaten legal consequences."

Avery was already typing. "And if they publish anyway?"

Killian's eyes narrowed. "Then we burn them down with lawsuits."

Luna took a step forward. "That won't stop the public. Once it's out, it's out."

Everyone turned to her.

She swallowed hard. "We need to get ahead of this."

Killian's brows lifted. "What are you suggesting?"

"I release it myself."

Silence fell again—heavier this time.

Killian's gaze sharpened. "Absolutely not."

"I take control of the narrative," Luna continued, ignoring him. "If I tell the story first—on my terms—then Cameron loses the power to weaponize it."

"No," Killian said flatly. "That's exactly what he wants. You putting yourself in front of cameras, justifying things that aren't anyone's business."

Luna's voice rose. "And hiding behind legal threats makes us look guilty."

Killian stepped forward. "You don't owe anyone an explanation."

"I know," she snapped. "But I'm not doing it for them. I'm doing it for me."

There was a beat of silence before he spoke again, voice lower now. "You don't need to prove anything, Luna. Especially not to people who don't matter."

She stared at him. His words were meant to sound logical, dismissive even. But there was something else behind them—a rare flicker of concern.

And once again, he didn't even realize it.

But Luna did.

She took a breath. "This isn't about proving anything. It's about refusing to be ashamed of things that were never my fault."

Killian's jaw tensed.

She turned to Avery. "Draft me a statement. I'll approve it before it goes out. Short, direct, unapologetic."

Avery nodded, already working.

Elijah shook his head in disbelief. "You really want to face the public like this?"

"Yes," Luna said simply. "Because I'm tired of being treated like a pawn in a game I didn't choose."

Killian didn't argue again. He just stood there, watching her—his face blank, but his fingers flexing at his sides like he was barely restraining himself from ripping something apart.

Hours later, Luna sat in front of a live-stream setup in the media room, a single spotlight casting a soft glow on her face.

No scripts. No glam team. No polish.

Just her.

The camera blinked red, and the stream went live.

Luna looked straight into the lens.

"My name is Luna Blackwell. And before anyone else gets the chance to twist the story, let me tell you my truth."

She paused for a beat, letting the words settle.

"Yes, someone leaked my private medical records. And yes, some of the details you're seeing are real. There are moments I didn't want the world to know—times I was vulnerable, scared, hurting. But I refuse to be ashamed of any of it."

Her voice held firm now. Clear. Steady.

"I've battled anxiety. I've been in emergency rooms. I've needed help. And if that makes me weak in some people's eyes, so be it. But it also makes me human."

She let the silence hang.

"What happened today was an attack—not just on my privacy, but on every woman who's ever been made to feel like her pain is a scandal. I won't be a victim. And I won't hide."

With a final nod, she ended the stream.

It lasted less than three minutes.

But by the time she stepped out of the room, her phone was already buzzing.

Avery met her in the hallway, tablet in hand. "It's blowing up. In a good way. You've got people from mental health groups, women's rights organizations—everyone's backing you."

Elijah raised a brow. "Even some journalists are flipping. They're turning it into a discussion about privacy abuse."

Luna nodded, trying to steady her breathing.

But before she could respond, Killian appeared at the end of the hallway.

He didn't say a word. Just looked at her.

Then he turned and walked back into the war room.

Luna hesitated—then followed.

She found him standing by the window, hands in his pockets, staring at the city below.

"That was reckless," he said without turning around.

"It worked."

He didn't respond.

"You're not going to say anything else?"

Killian turned slightly, his profile cast in shadow. "You didn't need to do that."

"I did," she said softly. "Because I'm not going to let your brother define me."

His jaw tensed. "This isn't just about him anymore."

"No," she agreed. "It's about all of us. You, me… this company."

He finally looked at her, and for the briefest moment, something flickered in his eyes.

"You were brave," he said, quiet.

Luna's heart skipped—but she masked it with a smile. "Don't sound so surprised."

"I'm not." He turned back toward the skyline. "Just… reminded."

She moved to stand beside him.

"You could've said thank you," she teased.

"I don't do thank yous," he replied dryly.

"Right," she said with a chuckle. "Forgot who I married."

Killian didn't smile.

But he didn't walk away either.

And in his silence, she heard more than words could ever say.

An hour later, Avery burst into the war room again.

"There's something you need to see."

She turned the monitor toward them.

A news clip was playing—Cameron Blackwell holding another press conference.

But this time, he wasn't alone.

Beside him stood Celeste Monroe.

And she was holding a thick file labeled: Confidential: Blackwell Financial Records.

Cameron smirked for the cameras.

"Tomorrow, we reveal everything."

Luna felt the color drain from her face.

Because if those files were real… Killian's empire was hanging by a thread.