"You did all this!" Luna snapped, barging into Xander's study without knocking.
Xander looked up from his desk, clearly displeased. His jaw tightened as he stood.
"Don't come into my study without permission," he said coldly.
"Answer me first," Luna demanded, standing her ground.
Without a word, Xander crossed the room, grabbed her arm, and pushed her gently back toward the door before slamming it shut behind her. The abruptness left Luna breathless.
"Idiot," she muttered under her breath, storming off.
She made her way to her bedroom, grabbed her phone, and flopped onto the bed. Tiara's name flashed on the screen. Within seconds, Luna was laughing loudly, trying to shake off the tension.
But then—her phone was snatched right out of her hand.
"What the hell?!" she exclaimed, turning.
"You're too loud," Xander said coolly, hanging up the call.
"I can't even talk now?" Luna shot back, her voice rising.
Xander stared at her silently, something unreadable in his eyes.
"What?" she asked, narrowing her gaze. "Why are you looking at me like that?"
"I can't even look at you now?" he said, taking a slow step forward.
"Yes," she replied defiantly.
He took another step. Luna instinctively backed away, her heartbeat picking up.
Another step.
Another.
Until her back hit the wall.
Her eyes locked with his, breath caught in her throat.
"What?" she whispered, as Xander leaned in just close enough for her to feel his presence towering over her.
The air between them thickened with tension, emotions swirling—anger, confusion, something unspoken. Luna's fingers curled into fists at her sides.
Why do you look scared?" Xander asked, his voice low and probing.
Luna forced a tight smile, masking the way her heart was racing. "I'm not scared of anyone."
Xander leaned in even closer, just an inch between them now. "Then maybe you need to see the other side of me… the side worth being scared of."
Luna stood rigid, her spine pressed against the wall. His nearness was suffocating, yet she refused to look away.
Finally, Xander pulled back.
Luna let out a quiet, shaky breath the moment he stepped away—one she hadn't realized she'd been holding.
"You keep talking about what you didn't get from this marriage," Xander said as he picked up a pillow from the couch. "But let me tell you something… You'll get everything."
With that, he turned and walked out, heading to the study room and shutting the door behind him.
Luna stood frozen for a moment, her chest rising and falling.
She finally made her way to the bed, sat down, and muttered under her breath with a hollow chuckle, "Everything? What a joke."
The early morning light filtered softly through the curtains as the maid quietly entered the room with her cleaning cart. She began tidying the bed when something struck her—only one pillow had been used. Curious, she proceeded to clean the rest of the room. As she entered the study next door, she paused, noticing the other pillow on the small couch inside.
Her brows knit together. It didn't take a genius to guess what that meant.
Downstairs, Luna was finishing her tea when she noticed the maid leaving her room. She frowned.
"Why were you cleaning my room?" she asked, her voice calm but firm.
The maid, startled, bowed slightly. "I—I always do it in the morning, ma'am."
Luna's eyes narrowed. "From now on, I'll clean my own room. No need to come in."
The maid nodded and rushed off toward the kitchen. As soon as she entered, she leaned in toward Dimple, whispering just loud enough for her to hear, "Sir and ma'am… they're not sharing a bed. I saw it myself."
Dimple's lips curved into a pleased smile. "Don't speak of it to anyone," she warned in a hush, trying to sound casual. "Especially not to Mother Miley."
But not everyone missed the whisper.
Perry, who had been near the door organizing breakfast trays, froze as the words sank in. Her eyes narrowed, and she stepped back into the shadows, unnoticed.
Later that morning, Perry found herself alone with Mother Miley in the hallway. She hesitated only for a moment before saying, "Mother… there's something you should know. I overheard something this morning. Luna and Xander… they're not sleeping in the same room."
Mother Miley didn't react with surprise. Instead, her expression turned thoughtful, almost calculated.
"I see," she murmured, walking toward the sitting room.
It was clear she wasn't shocked—but it did confirm something she had suspected for a while.
"We need to do something," she said more to herself than anyone else. "This family cannot afford a broken marriage behind closed doors."
Perry watched her go, conflicted, hoping this would shift Dimple's obsession—but fearing what Miley might do next.
Miley had arranged everything down to the smallest detail—a candlelit dinner set elegantly for three. The flicker of flames danced against crystal glasses and silver cutlery. Luna arrived, slightly confused, followed by Xander who looked equally caught off guard.
Miley smiled warmly as they took their seats. "It's just the three of us tonight. I thought we needed something more...
."
Throughout dinner, Miley shared bits of marriage wisdom between courses. "A marriage isn't just a contract—it's effort, understanding, and shared space," she said, cutting into her grilled vegetables with practiced grace. "Even when it's uncomfortable, you must try. You're husband and wife, after all."
Before either of them could argue, she stood up. "I'm feeling a bit tired. You two finish your meal."
And just like that, she disappeared into the hallway, leaving Luna and Xander alone.
They ate in silence—awkward, quiet bites—barely making eye contact. When dinner ended, they returned to their shared bedroom. As usual, Luna climbed onto the bed while Xander grabbed a blanket and took the sofa.
The night deepened. Moonlight spilled softly through the curtains.
Luna tossed and turned. Her skin felt flushed, the room too warm, her chest tight with discomfort. Sweat trickled down her neck. She sat up, wiping her brow.
"Ugh, it's so hot," she muttered, stumbling toward the washroom.
She tried the doorknob. Locked.
"Xander?" she called, knocking lightly. "Are you taking a shower this late? Come out—I'm burning up in here."
From behind the door, the sound of running water stopped. A few seconds later, Xander stepped out, hair wet, a towel slung low around his hips.