Luna Everleigh's POV
***
Before I could find my voice again, the door burst open.
"Luna!" My stepmother's sharp voice cut through the suffocating silence. My father was right behind her, his expression unreadable but cold, always cold. Behind them, a few of the guests hovered in the hallway, their faces alight with the kind of cruel curiosity that fed on scandal.
"What in the world is going on?" my stepmother demanded, her eyes narrowing as she took in the scene—my tear-streaked face, Damian's defensive stance, and Emilia standing too close to him.
I waited for my father to say something, to demand an explanation, to defend me.
But he didn't.
Instead, his gaze hardened.
"How dare you humiliate us like this?" His voice was quiet, but it carried the weight of finality.
The words slammed into me like a physical blow.
"What?" I choked. "I—I walked in on them—"
"You caused a scene at your own wedding." My stepmother's expression twisted in disgust. "Do you have any idea what this will do to our family's reputation?"
"Reputation?" I laughed, but the sound was hollow. Bitter. "They—she—betrayed me! And you're worried about reputation?"
"You should have handled this privately," my father said, his voice low and cold. "Now the entire city will know of this disgrace. Of your disgrace."
A sharp, keening sound built in my throat. It took me a moment to realize it was laughter. Hysterical, broken laughter.
Disgrace.
I was the disgrace.
Damian shifted, his jaw tightening. He didn't deny it. Didn't fight for me. Didn't care.
And Emilia—she didn't even look away.
She had taken everything from me. And no one was going to stop her.
My hands curled into fists at my sides.
My world had just crumbled, and no one had even tried to hold it together.
I had nothing left.
No home. No family. No love.
And if they thought I would beg them to let me stay, they were wrong.