Everyone turned to look at Luna—including Victor, seated right across from her.
Luna froze for a beat before collecting herself and declining politely. “Sorry.”
The man took it gracefully—smiled, shook his head, and walked away.
Luna raised her glass for a sip, and her eyes lifted at exactly the wrong moment, landing on Victor’s. Her hand stopped mid-air.
He was staring straight at her. Across the table, Keane had the mood rolling again; he raised his glass, took a swig, and grinned at Luna:
“Luna, you’re not even the first one at this table to get lucky tonight.”
Victor’s eyes went dark. He cut a sideways glare at Keane—and under the table, drove his heel down onto his foot.
“Hss—” Keane bared his teeth, caught Victor’s cold stare, and instantly switched to a flattering smile.
“Right—Luna, you missed it. Before you got here, girls were lining up for our captain’s number!”
That was Joey, another colleague at the table, jumping in excitedly.
Daisy glanced at Luna, saw no reaction, sat up straight, cleared her throat lightly, and lifted her glass again. “Toasts! Toasts!”
Attention scattered, and the topic moved on.
Amid the laughter, Luna kept accidentally locking eyes with Victor. Anyone at that table with eyes could see something strange humming between the two of them.
“Daisy, I’m going to the restroom.”
Luna took a sip of wine, leaned close to Daisy’s ear, murmured it, and slipped away from the table.
Twenty seconds after she left, Victor stood up abruptly, phone clenched in his hand. Keane stared at him, startled. “Where are you going now?”
Victor flashed the phone. “Taking a call.”
He skirted the chairs and left. Keane and the others went back to chatting—and nobody noticed that halfway to the restaurant door, Victor changed direction and headed straight for the restrooms…
Three minutes later, Luna stepped out—and a big hand caught her, pulling her into a private room off to the side.
Instinctively she twisted his arm, trying to wrench free, but his grip was frighteningly strong.
As she struggled, a familiar scent reached her nose, and her movements slowly died. “Victor?”
He had her pinned against the back of the door—his warm body in front, the cold door behind.
The room was dark, lights off; only the floor-to-ceiling window on the left caught the city’s neon at intervals.
Every sense sharpened in the dark. Victor lowered his head, eyes finding hers.
“What do you want?” Luna asked again.
He raised a hand, fingertips trailing lazily along the side of her neck, and leaned in closer, murmuring:
“Baby…”
Low and hypnotic—the way he used to call her, countless times, in bed.
At that word Luna gave a small shiver and stared at him. “Victor, we—we’re over. You don’t get to call me that.”
Victor let out a short, low laugh from his throat, then slowly stepped back.
The crushing, heady pressure withdrew. Hands in his pockets, head tilted as he watched her, his voice holding something down: “You disappeared for three years. So why come back?”
Luna straightened, looked away, pressed her lips together for a few seconds. Then she met his eyes and answered, “Where I go is my business.”
“Heh. Right. Where you go is your business…” Victor repeated it softly, tasting the words.
“And me?”
“Where did that leave me?”
His voice was low, a thread of anger running under it.
When she stayed silent, Victor closed in again—until barely a finger’s width remained between them.
He lifted his hand slowly, caught the loose strands at her temple and tucked them behind her ear, gentle and careful.
Luna didn’t dare move. Where his fingers grazed her ear, her skin tingled.
“Do you remember that night, four years ago?”
He said it out of nowhere. Luna snapped back to herself, and her mouth got ahead of her brain:
“If someone else had walked into your room that night instead of me… would you have done the same thing?”
Victor arched a brow. “Done what, exactly?”
She met his eyes—and the words stuck in her throat.
Victor took in every flicker of her expression. He leaned in again, slow—and just before his lips could reach hers, he veered off to her ear.
“Sleep together, then get married?”
He stopped there. A few seconds later, softly:
“But baby—those things, I only ever want them with you…”
His voice drew out long, warm breath spilling over her ear, deliberately toying with her heart.
The air turned thick. Luna’s face felt scorched.
Before she could react, the phone in her hand rang and vibrated, shattering the moment.
She pushed Victor away at once—and forgot the wound on her forearm. She used too much force; pain flared up her arm and knotted her brows.
No time to care. She answered Daisy’s call.
“Luna, what took you so long? Are you okay?” Daisy’s worried voice came through.
Luna looked down at her arm and answered quietly, “I’m fine. Coming back now.”
While she spoke, Victor suddenly took her injured hand, lifted it, and studied it—peeling back the little square of gauze with meticulous fingers.
“Luna, Captain Victor left right after you did, and he still hasn’t come back…” Daisy rattled on.
“Is… is that so?”
Luna couldn’t focus—because the very man they were discussing was standing right in front of her.
He reached over and flicked on the light. The room flooded bright; Luna blinked reflexively.
Daisy was still chattering in her ear, but Luna’s attention belonged to the man in front of her.
Victor peeled back the gauze on her forearm, examined the wound, then breathed on it—slow, gentle.
Warmth bloomed over the cut. She went blank.
“Luna? Luna?”
“Huh? Why’s it so quiet—is the reception bad in the bathroom?”
Daisy muttered, confused—and then Keane’s teasing voice came through in the background:
“Reception’s fine. Maybe she’s just busy.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Daisy shot back, suspicious.
“Tell me—who disappeared from this table at the exact same time she did?”
“Uh… Captain Victor?” She thought for two seconds.
Luna heard Keane burst out laughing on the other end. “Well, that explains that.”
She came back to herself and tried to pull her hand free, the color in her cheeks spreading past her ears.
In the end she just hung up. Victor felt her struggling—and afraid of hurting her again, let go at once.
“That wound needs redressing when you get back,” he said quietly.
“That’s none of your concern, Captain Victor.”
Luna dropped the line, pulled open the door, and hurried out.
Behind her, Victor caught the door before it could swing shut, stepped out, and leaned against the frame—watching her fleeing back with the faintest curve of a smile.
Only when she’d vanished around the corner did he come back to himself, eyes dropping to the floor, lost in thought.
…His mind drifted back to that night, four years ago.
The academy had invited him to that year’s graduation ball.
He’d spent the whole evening fending off the crowds that gathered around him like spectators at a zoo.
Until a figure cut into his vision—vivid, luminous, laughing with two or three people nearby.
Bright eyes, white teeth; every frown and smile of hers like a fawn that had wandered, unsuspecting, into the world.
His attention snagged on her, and he found himself watching her all through the ball.
When a few boys cornered her, he hadn’t been able to help himself—he’d stepped in.
And after that, stranger things happened. Fate kept tying them together, coincidence after coincidence.
That was the night he finally learned her name. Luna Manfredi.
…
“Hey, Victor? Hello? Why are you standing out here?”
Keane’s voice came suddenly around the corridor corner, scattering his thoughts.
Victor glanced at him, shut the door of the private room behind him, and headed back.
——