The morning air inside the Roth estate always smelled like something imported. Expensive. Clean. Artificial.
Luna preferred the scent of battle—old books, metal, and memory. But today, she wore her mask as tightly as ever.
Her shift began in the east hallway. Polishing antique frames, pretending not to notice the eyes that followed her in silence.
Lucien Roth wasn't supposed to be awake this early. But there he was. Again.
Leaning against the banister, coffee in hand, dressed like he'd just stepped off a magazine cover. Tired eyes, lazy smirk. Watching, Luna wasn't comfortable with the way his eyes followed her like a hawk.
What's he looking at? She was disgusted, she had planned to use him as her stepping stone but right now, she's beginning to rethink her decision.
"You really don't talk much, do you?" he asked.
Luna straightened without meeting his gaze. "Not unless spoken to, sir."
He walked forward. Each step soft but intentional. "What if I wanted to be the exception?"
She finally looked up
"I'm not here to be anything, sir. Just to clean."
Lucien smiled. Not wide. But real. "Funny. You don't seem like someone who settles for 'just.'"
Luna again wondered whether he recognized her from the bookstore and was just pretending, to her he's like a wolf in sheep's clothing .
Lucien stared at her for a while before striding lazily back to his quarters.
Luna was grateful that the parasite is finally gone, now she can work in peace without being watched like she's a criminal.
Later that afternoon, Luna was in the library—organizing books that hadn't been touched in years. She liked this part. Dust didn't lie. Dust didn't judge.
She heard his footsteps before he spoke. Again.
"Do you read?" Lucien asked, from behind her.
She turned. He held a book—worn at the spine, leather bound.
Dante's Inferno.
"A little," she said.
He stepped closer and handed her the book. "Tell me what this one's about."
She hesitated. Took it. Her fingers brushed past his for a second, Luna felt so disgusted, it was like she was touching filth.
She didn't utter her thoughts but her face carried the subtitles, she immediately masked it with that of an obedient and humble maid.
"It's about a descent into hell," she said finally. "Guided by someone who's been there before."
Lucien blinked. "You read more than a little."
She shrugged. "Everyone has their hell. Some just pretend it's a castle."
That made him laugh. Genuinely. Like he hadn't laughed in years.
Luna rolled her eyes, what's he laughing at ? She's not some stand up comedian.
They kept talking but Luna was already tired of him. She wished she had some magical powers like that of Merlin so she could silence him forever.
She could only bear with it , because of her mission.
Books turned to music. Music turned to moments.
"You're not like the others," he said once, while watching her arrange books. "You're... sharp. Cold. Almost like you're trained to disappear."
She froze. Just for a second.
And smiled. "Maybe I am."
He looked at her too long again, like he was trying to study her, before he left and went back to his quarters.
At night, She sat on her bed, staring at the ceiling.
Lucien was dangerous—but not in the way she'd expected. Not with fists. Not with arrogance.
With warmth. With attention. With the kind of broken softness she hadn't been prepared to see.
The plan was clear: infiltrate, observe, destroy.
But clarity was blurring. Her heartbeat was betraying her.
She pushed all thoughts at the back of her mind and decided to call it a day.
--
The Next Morning
Lucien left for the gym. She followed, careful not to be obvious. Just to observe. Just to listen.
He laughed with the trainer. Joked like someone who'd never buried a brother. But Luna wasn't looking at his mouth—she was watching his eyes. The way they never fully laughed with him.
There was something missing in Lucien Roth , something hollow.
And somehow, it made her chest ache, but no he's a Roth and also her enemy, she turned her back and left , not knowing that Lucien was watching her all along the corner of his eyes, he smirked as she left .
As she returned to the hallway, she caught her reflection in one of the gold-framed mirrors.
She barely recognized herself.
Hair pulled back. Lips pale. A stranger in a stranger's uniform.
But behind her eyes—something burned.
She whispered to herself, "This is still a game."
But her hands were shaking.
Because for the first time, she wasn't sure who was playing who.
She gathered her thoughts and left to do her work.
She haven't met Mr and Mrs Roth since she started working, she was told they went on a buisness trip and would be back the next month, she shrugged and kept herself busy.
There was not much work to do anyway.
Lucien was nowhere to be found for the rest of the day , Luna wondered where he could be , she convinced herself she was just trying to be careful not to run into him anywhere but is that really the reason why she's worried about her enemy?
After the day's work, Luna retired to her bed , she had just finished bathing, and opened her window to let fresh air in and there she saw him again, standing on the balcony of his wing, glass of wine in his hand, staring at the stars, looking so lost in thought .
Luna wondered what could be bothering a golden child like him, when he has everything and can afford anything in the world.
Just then , he turned around like on cue and their eyes met , he saw her in her white towel, dripping with sexiness he thought, he looked at her skin which is so milky that he wondered how there could be such skin , so spotless in the world, then he looked at her face, her wet hair, her ocean eyes, her pointed nose, her rosy lips , damn she's beautiful, he couldn't help but acknowledge that fact.
They stood there staring at themselves before Luna regained her senses and slammed the window shut.
What was that? What was he looking at? Like I'm some food. She cussed loudly as she changed into her pyjamas and went to bed.
She suddenly remembered that she hasn't seen her aunt who claimed she was working there since she came, she was slightly relieved that she hasn't seen her, else her plan would be nullified.
But she made a mental note to phone her first thing in the morning to know why.
She stared at the ceiling for awhile, thinking about the day's events before drifting off to lalala land.
Tomorrow is another day and hoped not to see the pest anywhere tomorrow, but that's not possible when she's living in his house.