Filed to story: The Luna is Secret Heiress Book PDF Free by Sylvia
I’d known about her relationship with Ethan Grey for years. My visits to Harbor City weren’t just casual trips-I’d been keeping tabs on her, watching from a distance as she built her life here. I’d seen how Ethan treated her, how he took her for granted, and it had taken considerable restraint not to intervene.
But now wasn’t the time to reveal that. Olivia needed to make her own choices, and I would respect that process, even as I positioned myself to be there when she was ready.
(Olivia’s POV)
A faint fluster rose within me as I stood there with my phone in hand. Why was I nervous? I was twenty-five years old, and having an ex-boyfriend was perfectly normal.
Besides, I had dated Ethan before agreeing to the arranged mating with Connor. I’d done nothing wrong, nothing to betray my future partner.
As this realization settled, my panic gradually subsided. I took a deep breath and steadied myself.
To draw a clear boundary-both for Connor and for myself-I unlocked my phone right in front of him. With deliberate movements, I navigated to Ethan’s contact and blocked his number.
“Don’t worry,” I said softly, looking up at Connor. “Since I’ve agreed to this mating arrangement, my ex will only ever be the past.”
Connor nodded quietly, his ice-blue eyes still unreadable. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking behind that calm exterior.
I turned away, missing the slight curve that formed at the corners of his lips.
The next few days passed peacefully. Connor and I continued exploring Harbor City together, building a comfortable rapport that felt surprisingly natural. But eventually, it was time to face reality.
“I think I should return to Riverdale,” I told Connor over breakfast on our sixth day together. “I’ve been away from my family for three years. It’s time.”
Connor nodded, understanding in his eyes. “I’ll arrange everything.”
True to his word, he handled all the details. We flew to Riverdale the following morning, and
Henry Morris met us at the airport with a sleek black SUV.
The drive to the Winters estate was quiet, filled with my growing apprehension. As we approached the familiar gates of my childhood home, Connor turned to me with gentle concern in his eyes.
“Do you want me to come in with you?” he asked, his deep voice soft.
I shook my head slightly, my amber eyes reflecting determination despite my inner turmoil.
“No need.”
Connor respected my choice without question. Once his car drove away, I was left standing before the grand gates of my childhood home.
A surge of complex emotions filled me-nostalgia, apprehension, and a faint ache that wouldn’t subside. After three years away, I was finally home, yet I had no house key. Like an outsider, I had to ring the doorbell.
The irony stung my heart as I pressed the button.
Moments later, the door opened to reveal Agatha Turner, the loyal housekeeper who had watched me grow up. Seeing me, she was momentarily stunned, her eyes widening in disbelief.
“M-Miss Olivia, you’re back?” she choked on her words, her voice trembling.
Hearing that simple question, a wave of sourness surged in my heart. “Mm,” I responded softly, unable to say more.
Tears immediately glistened in Agatha’s eyes as she stepped aside to welcome me home. Her joy and relief were overwhelming, making my own eyes sting.
Agatha had served the Winters family for more than ten years and had always treated me like her own child. The night my mother died from wolfsbane poisoning, it was Agatha who found me collapsed in the snow and carried me back inside.
During those long nights of fever and grief, when I wasted away mourning my mother, Agatha stayed by my side. She coaxed me to eat, bathed my forehead when fever took hold, and held me through the nightmares.
Without her, I might never have survived that dark time. Even after I left home, I still called her during holidays, maintaining our deep bond across the distance.
Moved by these memories, I took out a delicate gift box from my bag and passed it to her.
“This is the finest herbal tea from Harbor City. It’s for you,” I said, my voice warm with affection.
Agatha laughed through her tears, clutching the box to her chest. “I’ll make some for you tonight.”
I gently shook my head, my amber eyes soft. “No, it’s specially for you. I’ve had plenty already. This is just a small token of my gratitude for all you’ve done.”
Agatha was so touched her eyes brimmed with tears again. “Miss Olivia…” she murmured, unable to say more.
Before our reunion could deepen, a crisp young voice interrupted us.
“Sister! Sister, you’re back!”
An eight-year-old girl dashed forward from inside the house and hugged my leg tightly, her face shining with innocent delight.
This was Grace Winters, my half-sister, born to Natalie Winters and my father after my mother’s death. Her bright eyes looked up at me with pure adoration.
Grace had always adored me, clinging to me whenever possible during my rare visits home. But I had never warmed to her, despite her persistent affection.
My dislike stemmed largely from my resentment of Natalie Winters-my late mother’s supposed best friend, who had married my father not long after my mother’s death.
In my mind, Natalie was a scheming interloper who stole my mother’s place, and my father was a heartless betrayer who dishonored their marriage. Because of this, I had transformed from a well-behaved daughter into someone rebellious and distant.
Now, seeing Natalie approaching with a smile, my expression froze involuntarily.
“Grace heard you were back and couldn’t wait to come home early from school,” Natalie said warmly, her voice gentle and welcoming.
The warmth in her tone only deepened my discomfort. How dare she act like everything was normal? Like she hadn’t betrayed my mother’s memory?
Natalie continued in that same gentle tone, “You must be tired, Olivia. Rest well, I’ll call when dinner’s ready.” you
Meanwhile, Grace eagerly tugged at my hand, her eyes bright with excitement. “Sister, come look at my new drawings in my room? I made a picture of a white wolf just like you said you wanted to be when you were little!”
I coldly withdrew my hand, unable to bear her innocent touch. “No. I want to rest,” I said, my voice frosty.
Disappointment washed over the little girl’s face. She pouted and lowered her head, her joy snuffed out by my rejection.
Natalie quickly took Grace away, her face still smiling politely though her eyes betrayed her hurt. I felt a twinge of guilt seeing Grace’s crestfallen expression, but I hardened my heart against it.
Agatha, sensing the awkwardness, excused herself to prepare my old room. “I’ve kept it just as you left it, Miss Olivia. Fresh sheets every week, dusted daily.”
Once they were all gone, I shut the door to my room and finally breathed in the quiet. My heart felt heavy with unspoken pain and anger that three years away had done nothing to diminish.
I looked around the familiar space-my childhood bedroom preserved exactly as I’d left it. The light blue walls, the bookshelf filled with law textbooks, the framed photo of my mother and me on the nightstand.
Running my fingers over the photo frame, I whispered, “I’m home, Mom.”
(Richard’s POV)
When night fell, I returned home from a long day of pack business. Agatha had called to inform me of Olivia’s return, and despite my outward calm, my heart raced at the prospect of seeing my daughter after three years.
The family gathered around the dinner table, tension thick in the air. I looked at my daughter, studying her face for changes. She had grown more beautiful, more like her mother with each passing year.
“Why didn’t you tell us you were coming back today?” I asked, trying to keep my voice even despite the emotion threatening to break through.
Olivia countered with faint mockery, her amber eyes-so like her mother’s-flashing with defiance. “Would it have mattered if I did? Or if I didn’t?”
Her tone was sharp, revealing the deep fissures between us that time had done nothing to heal. I frowned, displeased by her attitude but unsurprised.
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