Filed to story: The Luna is Secret Heiress Book PDF Free by Sylvia
“Oh no!” Rachel gasped.
I quickly retrieved it, but the damage was done. The screen remained black when I tried to turn it on.
“My phone…” I stared at the Waterlogged Smartphone in dismay.
Rachel’s face crumpled with guilt. “I’m so sorry, Liv! Now you’re cut off from the outside world because of us.”
I shook my head, forcing a reassuring smile. “It’s not your fault. And don’t worry, I can use someone else’s phone to let my family know I’m okay.”
But morning brought another challenge. The power had been cut throughout the village as a precaution against electrical shorts from the flooding.
“Emma, can I borrow Awen’s Moonstone Communication Device?” I asked, finding my assistant in the kitchen.
Emma handed it over with a worried expression. “It only has one percent battery left.”
I quickly dialed my father’s number, praying he would answer. To my relief, Richard Winters picked up on the second ring.
“Hello?” His voice sounded distant and crackly.
“Dad, it’s Livvy,” I said quickly, watching the battery indicator blink ominously. “My smartphone fell into water and can’t be used. I’m borrowing this device to let you know I’m safe, so don’t worry about me. I’m fine.”
“Olivia? Where are you? We’ve been trying to-“
The call cut off abruptly as Awen’s Moonstone Communication Device died in my hand. I stared at the blank screen in frustration.
“At least you got through to him,” Emma said, trying to sound optimistic.
I nodded, though I wasn’t entirely convinced my message had been clear enough. “Let’s hope so.”
The flood had damaged the village’s power lines, leaving us without electricity. Thankfully, Rachel’s family still cooked with firewood, ensuring we wouldn’t go hungry.
I finished a bowl of Emma’s Healing Herb Noodles that Rachel had prepared over the open fire. The warm broth was comforting against the chill that had settled in the house.
“Has there been any word about rescue teams?” I asked, setting down my empty bowl.
Rachel shook her head, her expression somber. “The rescue team is estimated to arrive tomorrow.”
(Olivia’s POV)
I stared at Rachel’s phone in my hand, realizing how helpless I felt without my own device. The truth was embarrassing – I had never bothered memorizing anyone’s phone number.
Everything was stored in my Waterlogged Smartphone’s address book. Connor’s number, Rebecca’s, Lily’s, even my father’s – I had relied completely on technology to remember these vital connections.
Even if I could borrow Rachel’s phone right now, I wouldn’t know who to call. The numbers that connected me to my pack, my friends, my entire world were trapped in a device that would never work again.
“I’m so sorry, Liv,” Rachel said, wringing her hands. “This is all my fault. I should never have asked you to come here.”
She paced around the small living room, her guilt evident in every step. “James and I should have made the trip to Riverdale instead. Then you wouldn’t be stuck in this mess.”
I shook my head firmly. “Rachel, stop blaming yourself. You have a two-year-old son to take care of. You couldn’t just leave him behind.”
“But we could have figured something out,” she insisted, her voice breaking slightly.
“How?” I asked gently. “You told me your in-laws passed away years ago. And your mother can’t help with childcare anymore.”
Rachel’s shoulders sagged. “That’s exactly why I needed you to come. I had no other choice.”
I reached out and squeezed her arm. “This isn’t anyone’s fault. Natural disasters happen. We can’t control the weather.”
“But your phone, your work, everything-“
“I managed to contact my father,” I interrupted. “He knows I’m safe. Being out of touch for one day won’t kill anyone.”
Rachel looked unconvinced, but she nodded reluctantly.
The weather had been perfect when I arrived – sunny skies and a forecast promising three more beautiful days. No one could have predicted this sudden, violent storm that had turned our world upside down.
By five in the afternoon, Rachel was already preparing dinner. Without electricity, everything took longer. The rain had finally slowed to a steady drizzle, and the water level inside the house had receded somewhat.
“Here, take these,” Rachel said, handing me a pair of worn rain boots. “I’m sorry I don’t have another pair for
Emma.”
Emma Thompson waved dismissively, walking barefoot through the remaining puddles. “I don’t mind. It’s just water.”
I frowned, watching her splash around without any protection. “Emma, you’re going to catch a cold. Why don’t you go upstairs and rest? We can bring your dinner up.”
“I’m fine,” Emma replied curtly, her usual aloof expression firmly in place.
In the kitchen, I helped Rachel wash vegetables for dinner. The simple task felt oddly comforting after days of uncertainty.
“So tell me about your life these past two years,” Rachel said, scrubbing a head of lettuce. “How have you been?”
I focused on the vegetables in my hands. “It’s been fine.”
Rachel didn’t know about my prestigious pack background. To her, I was just an ordinary lawyer trying to make a living.
“Are you used to working at the law firm back home? Is the salary in Riverdale decent?”
“It’s similar to Harbor City,” I replied vaguely.
Rachel’s next question made me pause. “Have you dated anyone since breaking up with Ethan Grey?”
My hands stilled on the lettuce. I lowered my eyes, feeling the familiar ache in my chest.
“I did date someone,” I admitted quietly. “But we broke up.”
Rachel must have sensed my discomfort because she quickly changed the subject. “Would you like me to cook braised chicken with chestnuts and braised pork for dinner?”
“That sounds perfect,” I said, grateful for the distraction.
James Morrison sat behind the wood-burning stove, feeding logs into the fire. The warm glow cast dancing shadows on the walls.
Emma was on the floor, playing with Rachel’s two-year-old son, Xiaohai. I turned to watch them, surprised by the scene.
“Emma, I can’t believe you actually like children,” I said with a smile.
Emma usually maintained such a cold, aloof demeanor. She seemed like the last person who would enjoy playing with kids.
Emma held up an Ultraman toy, making it dance for the giggling toddler. Her expression remained completely deadpan.
“The little thing is quite interesting,” she said matter-of-factly.
The room fell silent. Rachel, James, and I exchanged bewildered glances.
After an awkward moment, I laughed nervously. “I’m sorry, Rachel. My assistant has low emotional intelligence and doesn’t know how to express herself properly. Don’t take it personally. She doesn’t mean that.
