Abandoned Luna Now Untouchable (Cecilia) novel Chapter 233

Author’s pov

” I am Belinda. Please forgive me for keeping you waiting.”

She glided to the center of the ballroom like she owned the air around her, every movement smooth and calculated. The guests responded as if drawn by some invisible magnet–curious, intrigued, and a little too eager to be near her.

Up close, the unease only deepened.

Her features were flawless in a way that didn’t feel real–high cheekbones, deep-set eyes, a sculpted nose, and full lips painted in a shade just shy of blood red. Under the ballroom lights, her skin looked poreless, like a porcelain doll. When she smiled, her lips moved with unnerving precision, like someone whose face had been frozen in perfection one injection too many.

It was the kind of beauty that made people stare… and then flinch.

Sebastian and Cecilia weren’t the only ones who noticed.

Around them, guests began to shift–some subtly stepped back, others exchanged hushed glances over their champagne flutes.

A few looked downright spooked.

With the castle’s gothic opulence and the storm whispering against the windows, the whole scene felt like a high-budget horror film right before things started to go wrong.

Still, most of the guests held it together. Anyone who’d accepted an invitation to a Moonveil event probably knew better than to act shocked by a little creepy weirdness.

“Belinda..” Cecilia muttered. “Sounds sweet. Looks sweeter. Probably poisonous.”

Sebastian leaned in, his voice a soft murmur against her ear. “If she’s poisonous, I’d keep an eye out for the moment she sheds her skin.” Cecilia shivered, equal parts amused and unsettled.

Belinda’s gaze swept the room like a queen counting pawns. Cool.

Calculated. When her eyes landed on Sebastian, they lingered–again.

Cecilia noticed. She shot him a sharp side-glance, suspicion flickering beneath narrowed lashes.

Right on cue, Sebastian’s hand slid to her waist, a subtle squeeze like a silent claim.

“Ms. Moore,” he murmured, lips twitching, “you make me sound like some tragic heartbreaker.”

She blinked. Almost rolled her eyes.

It sounded humble–until it didn’t. He was complimenting himself.

Wrapped in faux modesty, of course.

Classic Sebastian.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Belinda called out, her voice slicing cleanly through the ambient murmur. “Please, join me at the table.”

She gestured toward the long obsidian dining table stretching across the ballroom like a runway for the elite. The final guests had arrived.

So this was the infamous “exchange” meeting Moonveil had orchestrated. The real question was–what exactly were they exchanging?

The group began drifting toward the massive table, which looked like it could seat at least fifty.

Cecilia counted around thirty guests in total. The invitation had mentioned bringing companions, which explained the entourages.

An Australian businessman had brought two models on each arm.

Sebastian had only intended to come alone–now he had five people trailing him like an accidental entourage.

No one seemed eager to sit near Belinda. The chairs closest to the head of the table remained suspiciously empty. Guests lingered at a polite distance, pretending to be absorbed in wine lists or whispering to their companions.

Except for Sebastian.

He walked forward with deliberate ease and claimed a seat near the head of the table–two seats away from Belinda. Close enough to be noticed. Far enough not to seem obvious.

Then Cecilia took the seat beside Sebastian.

Behind them, Sawyer grabbed Tang’s arm, knuckles white.

“Are you insane?” he whispered. “Why are we sitting next to Ghost Barbie?”

Tang calmly loosened Sawyer’s grip.

“She’s not dangerous,” he said. “It’s just not her real skin.”

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