Back in her room, Luna changed into her softest sleepwear, pulled Milo onto her lap, and settled by the window seat. The city glittered far in the distance beyond the estate's trees. She stared out for a moment, the echo of her conversation with Edward playing again in her head.
The back-and-forth.
The respect.
The challenge.
The way he had actually listened.
Luna touched her lips in thought, a slow smile creeping onto her face. "Weird night," she muttered, scratching Milo behind the ears.
Milo grumbled in agreement and curled tighter against her.
"Yeah… but not bad."
With that, she finally got into bed, letting the moonlight slip across her sheets and dreams already tinged with possibilities she never thought she'd consider before.
In the quiet warmth of Emmerich's private study, the low hum of classical music filled the background, blending with the soft clink of ice in a crystal glass.
Edward sat across from Emmerich, the gravity of their conversation dulling the polish of polite pleasantries.
Emmerich, ever composed, set down his drink and leaned forward slightly. "So. Any progress on the matter I asked you to look into?"
Edward's eyes darkened, a flicker of regret passing through them. "Some. But not the kind you were hoping for."
Emmerich's jaw tightened.
"Your lover—Lin—is exceptionally good at disappearing," Edward said, voice low. "Digital trails wiped clean. No financial activity. No surveillance trace. Whoever trained her—or whatever she's built—she's using it masterfully."
Emmerich didn't speak, but his eyes urged him to continue.
Edward glanced toward the fireplace, then back. "But… I did uncover something else. There's a faction. Quiet, well-funded. Think tanks with ties to private military startups and black market networks. They're trying to track her too, not for who she is, but for what she made."
Emmerich's voice dropped, tense. "Her generative AI model."
Edward nodded grimly. "Yes. Rumor is—it's not just any model. It adapts beyond known parameters, learns without limiter protocols. Self-guiding, potentially sentient-level when fully unlocked. And dangerous in the wrong hands."
A heavy silence settled between them.
"Then she left Luna… to protect her," Emmerich whispered, the truth sinking in.
Edward gave him a respectful pause before saying gently, "That's the working theory. She's not hiding from you. She's hiding from them, from everything that could trace back to Luna."
Emmerich exhaled slowly, the weight on his chest seeming to anchor him to his chair.
"Edward… If that's the case—" his voice faltered just a breath, "—I want to change the terms. I don't care if I never see her again, if that's what it takes. I want you to focus on protecting her. If pursuing her puts her at risk, then stop the search. Please. Just make sure she's safe."
Edward watched the man who once mentored him, gave him his first chance in the cutthroat world of investment and innovation, now asking for something no money could buy.
"I'll do everything I can," Edward said, voice firm. "For you. For her. For Luna."
Emmerich leaned back, closing his eyes for a moment.
"Thank you, Edward."
Edward stood, adjusting his jacket. "She's lucky to have someone who still loves her that much."
"And Luna's lucky to have you looking out for her too," Emmerich said with a faint smile. "I know you're not just here for business."
Edward paused at the door, offering only a polite nod, but the meaning lingered in the air.
As the door clicked shut, Emmerich turned to the fireplace, the flames dancing against the old ache in his heart—one that now burned quietly beside the deeper fear that the past might one day come to take Luna away too.