Chasing His Rejected Luna Back

Billianvista’s opulent streets lay shrouded in an early winter’s quiet, their calm betrayed by the storm within Seraphine Mancini. Eight years of devotion to Luther Harword had vanished like a puff of breath in the cold air. Now engaged to a stranger, Seraphine had yet to reveal the truth to Luther, the man she once believed was her forever.

Luther’s attention had drifted months ago, drawn to his beguiling secretary, Cornelia. What began as stolen glances escalated into a mortifying incident at Cornelia’s birthday party. Luther, in a moment of reckless charm, playfully smeared cake frosting on her face—oblivious to Seraphine’s severe dairy allergy. That small act left her gasping for air and fighting for her life in a hospital bed.

When she awoke, her mother’s solution came swift and sharp: an arranged marriage with the infamous Romano family, their power laced with whispers of underworld dealings.

Her phone buzzed relentlessly as she returned to the apartment she shared with Luther. A flurry of wedding plans filled her inbox, each more extravagant than the last. One message stood out:

[I’ve arranged everything. The wedding is in three days. It’s time to move on from Luther. Eight years is too long to wait.]

The words pierced her like ice. Staring at the screen, Seraphine’s laugh came brittle and cold. She recorded a terse reply.

"Mom, keep it simple. I trust you."

As she hit send, a voice broke the quiet behind her. “Wedding? What wedding?”

She turned to see Luther standing there, his expression unreadable.

Her thumb instinctively locked her phone, but Luther’s suspicion flared. He reached for it, only to be interrupted by the sharp ring of his own phone. He answered with a frown, his features darkening.

“Luther! Someone’s following me!” Cornelia’s voice was panicked. “He’s been behind me for blocks—I’m scared!”

Luther’s demeanor shifted in an instant. “Stay near the security post. I’m coming.” Without a second glance at Seraphine, he grabbed his coat and disappeared into the night.

Left alone in the dim apartment, Seraphine’s resolve solidified. This was her moment to leave.

She dialed a number, her voice calm but resolute. “Aunt Monica, I’m leaving.”

“Leaving? Finally marrying Luther, are you?” her aunt teased.

“No,” Seraphine replied with an edge of finality. “It’s an arranged marriage. Luther’s not part of this.”

Aunt Monica’s silence hung heavy before she sighed. “Are you sure? After all this time, he—”

“Cares?” Seraphine interrupted, a bitter smile forming. “Caring isn’t the same as committing. If I stay, I’ll waste what’s left of my life chasing an illusion.”

The call ended, and with it, the weight of eight years bore down on her. But Seraphine didn’t waver. She had three days to sever every tie.

The next evening, Seraphine oversaw the delivery of farewell gifts to her aunt’s house. Darkness had settled over the neighborhood when a familiar figure emerged by the curb.

Luther.

Dressed sharply, his confusion was palpable as he approached the truck laden with boxes.

“What’s all this?” he asked, his voice tight.

“Thank-you gifts,” Seraphine replied evenly. “I’m leaving.”

His brows drew together, tension radiating from him. “Leaving? Where? Why haven’t you told me?”

“You were busy.” Her tone was clipped, her gaze unwavering. “It’s no longer your concern.”

Luther took a step closer, his presence as commanding as ever. “This isn’t like you, Seraphine. What’s going on? Who’s the guy?”

She tilted her chin, her voice cutting like glass. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

Before he could press further, a sleek black SUV rolled to a stop nearby. The driver, an impeccably dressed man, stepped out with an air of quiet authority.

“Miss Mancini,” he said, bowing slightly. “Your fiancé awaits.”

Seraphine didn’t look back as she walked toward the vehicle, ignoring the shock in Luther’s eyes. The door closed behind her with a resolute click, leaving Luther standing alone on the darkened street.