Luna Everleigh's POV
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The streets felt unfamiliar beneath my feet, though I had walked them countless times before. The weight of my wedding gown—the one I was meant to wear when I stepped into a new life—now clung to my body like a cruel joke. The lace and silk were stained with betrayal, the delicate beading pressing into my skin like tiny, silent accusations.
I had fled the reception hall in a daze, my heartbeat a frantic rhythm in my ears. The whispers followed me even as I stepped into the waiting car. The driver—a long-time employee of my stepfather—didn't meet my eyes. He knew. They all knew.
By the time we reached the house, my heart was a fragile thing, beating with desperate hope. Surely, my family would understand. They would see that I was the victim, not the villain.
The front door loomed before me, an imposing structure of polished oak and cold indifference. My hands trembled as I pushed it open.
Inside, the house was silent. Too silent.
My stepfather, Reginald, stood in the center of the grand foyer, his arms folded across his chest. His expression was unreadable, but the tightness around his mouth betrayed his displeasure. My stepmother, Eleanor, lingered just behind him, her ice-blue eyes sweeping over me with the same disdain she always reserved for anything she deemed unsightly.
"Luna," Reginald said, his voice clipped. "Do you have any idea what you've done?"
I swallowed hard, my fingers curling into the fabric of my dress. "I— I didn't do anything."
Reginald exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "You humiliated this family in front of our most esteemed guests. Do you think anyone will remember Damian's betrayal? No. They'll remember you—the bride who caused a scandal at her own wedding."
Anger flared in my chest. "You're blaming me?" My voice wavered, disbelief laced in every syllable. "I walked in on them! I was the one betrayed! And yet, I'm the one who's supposed to bear the shame?"
Eleanor's sharp nails tapped against the marble railing as she descended the grand staircase, her movements slow and deliberate. "You always were dramatic," she mused, her lips curving in a semblance of a smile. "But this—this is a new level of disgrace, even for you."
My breath caught. Even for you. As if she had always expected me to fail.
"I don't understand," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "I did everything you ever asked of me. I followed every rule, every expectation. And when I'm the one wronged, you turn your backs on me?"
Reginald's expression darkened. "We gave you everything, Luna. A home. A future. And this is how you repay us?"
Eleanor stepped closer, her perfume a sickly sweet contrast to her words. "You're not our problem anymore."
My body went rigid. "What does that mean?"
Reginald nodded to one of the maids, who stepped forward, carrying a small, worn suitcase. She placed it at my feet without a word, her gaze fixed on the floor.
The realization hit me like a blow to the chest.
They were throwing me out.
To be continued...