Claiming His Luna

Cercei’s POVText © by N0ve/lDrama.Org.

After our thrilling hunt last night, we woke up on the island, our bodies bare and smeared with blood stains.

A surge of satisfaction coursed through me, filling me with a rare sense of contentment and strength that I hadn’t experienced in ages.

Mamà handed us garments, and we quickly changed before leaving the island.

“That was utterly fucking wonderful,” Aunt Melanie chuckled, clearly sharing in my profound gratification.

“Melanie, mind your language,’ scolded my mother, though she couldn’t help but let out a laugh.

As the sun rose, we arrived at the port where the boat’s owner awaited our return.

“Efcharistó, Antóni [ Thank you, Antonio ],” Aunt Melanie warmly patted his back. While making our way back home, Mamà abruptly pulled us down to the ground.

“Emilia, what the fuck…” Mamà swiftly covered my aunt’s mouth, her gaze fixed on the black-suited men roaming the area.

My eyes widened, and fear constricted my heart. I must have been as pale as a ghost. They had found us! Did they catch sight of us?

“Remus’ henchmen,” Mamà uttered through clenched teeth. Aunt Melanie urgently dialed a number on her mobile.

“Did they spot us?” I whispered, as if the slightest sound might carry to their ears. The men were already on the road while we remained by the port, preparing to ascend the stairs.

“No, but we must exercise caution. Melanie!” My mother called out to my aunt, who was absorbed in her conversation.

“Prepare the plane. We’re on our way,” she declared, finishing the call.

“We must flee this country,” she announced, her gaze fixed on us. My mother and I exchanged glances, and she gently grasped my hand, and I subtly nodded in agreement. I took a deep breath, bracing myself for the trials ahead.

Aunt Melanie deftly led us along an alternative route, steering clear of the main roads where Monsieur’s men patrolled. She possessed an intimate knowledge of the city, having meticulously familiarised herself with every nook and cranny in preparation for our escape.

We made no effort to retrieve our belongings from the apartment or bid farewell to anyone-it seemed petty in the current circumstances. Remus’ henchmen had already encircled the city, combing through every inch, leaving us no choice but to manoeuvre another way, evading their watchful eye stealthily.

“We should split up,” I suggested, attempting to create a plan. My mother vehemently shook her head in disagreement.

“Are you out of your mind? Absolutely not!” she retorted, her protest scarcely concealed.

“If we remain together, they will undoubtedly find us. We must blend in,” I explained, urging my mother to understand.

“She’s right, Emilia,” Aunt Melanie interjected, her hand gently clasping my mother’s arm. Tears welled up in Mamà’s eyes, and I did my best to offer reassurance.

“Let’s meet at the south port, at the yacht restaurant. Board that vessel, no matter what obstacles lie in your path. Do you understand?” Aunt Melanie spoke unyieldingly, to which we nodded in unison.

“It departs in one hour. Promise me that you will board on it,” she said, casting an anxious glance in our way.

“I promise,” my mother and I simultaneously affirmed. Embracing one another briefly, we parted ways. Mamà turned left, and I turned right while Aunt Melanie continued straight ahead.

We had a mere hour to reach the south port undetected. Spotting a local vendor, I hastily stole a scarf and a pair of shades. I knew I would have to make amends with my conscience later; at present, my priority was to conceal my identity.

I wrapped the scarf around my face and neck, donning the shades as an added disguise. With half my face obscured, it would require a discerning gaze to recognize me.

Covering long distances on foot was unfeasible. I couldn’t resort to stealing a car either, as my driving skills were sorely lacking. Panic gripped me as time ticked away. But then, a realisation struck me like lightning.

Nicholas! I must make my way to his restaurant.

Entering the establishment with the gait of an ordinary patron, I selected a table and took a seat.

“Kaliméra, eímai o ser sas gia símera. Ti na sas páro [ Good morning, I’m your server for today. What can I get you? ]?” Anastasia greeted me with a sweet smile, oblivious to my true identity. This was a fortunate turn of events.

“Could you fetch your manager, please?” I requested curtly, her brows furrowed in confusion at my words.

“Get me your manager,” I repeated, growing impatient with her lingering presence. Rolling my eyes, I stood up and went to Nicholas’ office, wasting no further time.

Anastasia attempted to block me, but I paid no attention to her pleas. Bursting through Nicholas’ office door, he sprang to his feet, momentarily startled from his computer work.

“Syngnómi Nikóla, prospáthisa na ti stamatíso [I’m sorry, Nicholas, I tried stopping her ],” Anastasia explained apologetically behind me, her words barely registering with Nicholas. I removed my shades, allowing him a clear view of my face.

“Boró na to frontíso, boreíte na fýgete tóra [ I can take care of this, you can go now ],” he dismissed Anastasia, though his gaze remained fixed on me. She left, closing the door behind her.

“I need your help,” I pleaded urgently, leaving no room for hesitation. Shyness had no place in the face of imminent danger. Nicholas furrowed his brow, still struggling to grasp the situation. After all, in his eyes, I was merely a humble dishwasher in his kitchen.

“Okay…” he trailed off, clearly perplexed.

“I don’t have time to explain. Can you take me to the south port, please? I must leave,” I pleaded, desperation etched across my features. His gaze lingered on me for a moment.

“I’ve always sensed there was something about you. Let’s go,” he declared, swiftly grabbing his helmet. A wave of relief flooded my heart.

We raced towards the south port with Nicholas at the helm of his motorcycle. I clung tightly to him as he manoeuvred through the streets with incredible speed.

Upon arrival, I removed my helmet, my eyes scanning the surroundings. Men continued to patrol the area, but we remained inconspicuous, likely mistaken for a couple in their daily routines.

“Thank you, Nicholas, for everything,” I expressed my gratitude genuinely, returning his helmet.

“I wish I could explain, but I don’t have time. I must go,” I conveyed my regrets, meeting his gaze with an apologetic look.

“Then you better enlighten me when we meet again,” he responded, a gentle smile playing on his lips. I mirrored his smile, cherishing the brief connection we had formed. I hugged him tightly, and he soothingly rubbed my back before we parted ways. With a heavy heart, I made my way towards the waiting ship.

“Till we meet again,” he called out, his voice carrying over the sound of the surroundings. I waved at him tearfully, grateful for his friendship. He had been my closest confidant in this foreign land, one of the kindest and most remarkable individuals I had encountered. Regret flooded my being for not engaging with him during my time here, only to show up at his office and beg him for a ride. He was right; till we meet again. I hoped for that day to come when I could reveal the truth.

I attempted to maintain an air of normalcy as I approached the ship. However, my heart pounded uncontrollably, threatening to burst from my chest when one of the men approached me but ultimately passed by without suspicion. That was close.

Now, all I could do was hope that my mother and aunt had already arrived at the designated meeting point.