Filed to story: The Luna is Secret Heiress Book PDF Free by Sylvia
My voice remained steady despite the gravity of what I was reporting to Alpha William. Years of service had taught me to maintain composure even in crisis.
“Several muscular men, all carrying weapons, emerged from the SUV. They took Vanessa away. The officers escorting her were severely injured, and they couldn’t pursue immediately.”
William’s face darkened with each word, his jaw clenching tighter.
“By the time the territory patrol arrived, it was too late. Vanessa had been snatched away right under the officers’ noses.”
(William’s POV)
The news hit me like a physical blow. My hands clenched into fists as I processed
Frank’s words.
“How is this possible?” I demanded, incredulous that a prisoner under official custody could be abducted so blatantly. “Were our people asleep?”
Frank’s expression remained professionally neutral. “The attack was coordinated and executed with military precision, sir. These weren’t amateurs.”
Katherine approached, startled by the commotion. “What happened?” she asked, her eyes darting between Frank and me.
“It’s Vanessa,” I replied, my voice heavy with frustration and worry.
Katherine’s face paled instantly. “Wasn’t she already in custody? How could she be taken away again?”
My brow furrowed deeply as I pieced things together. The fact that those who rescued her were visibly well-trained and armed convinced me Vanessa must have found powerful backing outside our territory.
“Mother was right,” I muttered, recalling Eleanor’s warning that Vanessa’s return was definitely not as straightforward as we believed. “Vanessa has someone formidable behind her, and we must uncover who this is, and fast.”
(William’s POV)
Katherine’s expression darkened sharply, the truth dawning on her as her eyes flashed with anger.
“Isn’t it your illegitimate son, Frederick Warner, who helped her come back from abroad? Why bother investigating? Send people to America now and drag that man back!”
The words dripped with scorn, reopening old wounds I’d hoped had scarred over decades ago.
My face turned ashen, anger and helplessness mingling inside me. “Can you stop calling him that? I was wrong back then, but Frederick is still my blood. Stop insulting him.”
Katherine sneered coldly. “Ha! A child born from cheating during our early years- what else should I call him? Since you betrayed our relationship, why can’t I speak the truth?”
The bitterness in her voice cut through me. Our long-buried resentment erupted amid the crisis, decades of pain surfacing at the worst possible moment.
(William’s POV)
“Enough!” I snapped, aware that Frank was still standing uncomfortably nearby, witnessing our marital discord.
My face grew grim as I lowered my voice. “Our influence doesn’t extend into America.
Even if it did, Frederick has built up his own power there, operating both sides of the law. Confronting him head-on would be suicide for our people.”
The implication was clear: Frederick Warner had grown into a dangerous force, possibly the shadowy mastermind helping Vanessa. Our family crisis now extended far beyond territory boundaries.
An ominous storm loomed as the kidnapped Vanessa vanished into the shadows, protected by ruthless men and weapons.
(Connor’s POV)
I was drowning in darkness, then floating, then drowning again. Chaotic dreams pulled me under repeatedly-Vanessa’s face twisted with hatred, Grace’s terrified eyes, Olivia’s tears as the silver blade flashed.
The pain in my side anchored me to reality even as my consciousness drifted. Sometimes I heard voices-my mother’s tearful pleas, my father’s gruff commands, and softer, sweeter tones that could only belong to Livvy.
When I finally broke through the surface of awareness, bright sunlight spilled across my face. The sharp scent of antiseptics filled my nostrils, pulling me fully into wakefulness.
I blinked against the glare, trying to raise my hand to shade my eyes. A sharp pain where needles pricked my skin made me wince.
At that very moment, Olivia appeared at the doorway, carrying a thermal lunch container. Her amber eyes bloomed with gentle relief when she saw me.
“You’re awake,” she said softly.
She quickened her steps, placing the container on the bedside table. Her tone was soft and caring as she continued, “I just went to make you some healing broth. You woke up just in time for lunch.”
(Connor’s POV)
I turned my gaze to the container, surprise flickering through me. “You cooked?”
Olivia blushed slightly, the color making her amber eyes seem even brighter. “Yes. I made it myself with herbs. It’s my first time preparing this particular healing broth, so… would you like to try?”
Bathed in sunlight, I felt my usual cold demeanor melt away completely. My lips lifted into a faint, tender smile.
“Of course.”
The thought of Livvy cooking for me, preparing something with her own hands specifically for my recovery, filled me with a warmth that had nothing to do with the sunlight streaming through the window.
(Connor’s POV)
She leaned close to adjust my pillows, her delicate floral-fruity scent enveloping me, making my heart melt. For a fleeting second, I believed she might kiss me, and my heart sweetened like honey, pounding with a shy, nervous anticipation.
It would be the very first time my Livvy initiated such intimacy outside of our night together.
Just then, the hospital bed’s headrest slowly rose instead. “I’m adjusting your bed so you can sit up comfortably and eat,” she explained.
Realizing my mistake, I felt a little silly, like a lovesick young man, but a warm smile rose on my lips nonetheless. Even injured, I couldn’t help but want her closer.
(Olivia’s POV)
I set up a small table over Connor’s lap, carefully placing paper napkins, then the container. Opening it revealed the freshly prepared dishes I’d made with such care- lightly steamed vegetables and tender venison.
“The doctor said you should eat lighter food while you recover, so I made you vegetables and some meat, balanced with healing properties,” I explained, placing each dish down with gentle care.
Connor watched me quietly, his ice-blue eyes following my every movement. There was something in his gaze a mixture of tenderness and disbelief-that made my heart flutter.
I lined up the little bowls steamed vegetables, venison, fragrant white rice, and a bowl of healing broth.
“That’s quite a lot,” Connor remarked with a soft chuckle. “What kind of broth is this?”
“Herb with wild game,” I replied, scooping a spoonful. I blew on it gently and raised it to his lips. “Try some.”
(Olivia’s POV)
Just as he lowered his head to sip, his gaze halted abruptly. He spotted the blister on my right index finger.
“What happened to your hand?” he asked, his voice suddenly sharp with concern.
I tried to hide it, but it was too late. “I just… burned myself a little in the kitchen. It’s nothing, just a blister.”
Connor’s ice-blue eyes reddened, his voice thick with distress. “Does it hurt?”
“No,” I insisted softly, touched by his concern. “Compared to what you suffered, this is nothing.”
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