Alpha's Discarded Luna (Talia) novel Chapter 241

Chapter 239

Aires’ POV

Bruno knocks on my office door, his face etched with worry. The afternoon light streams through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting long shadows across the polished marble. I look up from the quarterly reports spread across my desk.

“Mr. Perseus, no matter what conditions we offer, Solaris continues to refuse.” He steps inside, his posture stiff. “Today, she did not even answer our calls.”

I set down my pen and lean back in my chair. “Reason?”

Bruno’s jaw tightens. “She keeps saying… she is not skilled at composing piano pieces.” He pauses, choosing his next words carefully. “I told her that she could compose in her preferred style, but she still refused. I even told her that she could name her terms, but it was useless…”

My expression remains indifferent. The sunlight catches the edge of my desk, glinting off the glass paperweight. “Those are just excuses. The truth is, she simply does not want to accept it.”

Bruno shifts his weight. “Mr. Perseus, should we start looking for other composers instead?”

I turn my chair slightly, gazing out the window at the City below??

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Chapter 239

The skyline stretches endlessly, towers of glass and steel reaching toward the clouds. My gaze is deep, unreadable.

“No need.” My voice is calm, measured. “Find out Star’s whereabouts. I will negotiate with her personally.”

Bruno’s eyes widen slightly, surprise flickering across his features. He recovers quickly, nodding. “Yes, sir. I will handle it right away.”

He turns and walks out, the door clicking shut behind him.

I remain by the window, watching the city hum below. Somewhere out there, Solaris is hiding. Refusing. Avoiding.

I will find her.

11

Talia’s POV

r

The morning light filters through the sheer curtains, soft and golden. I stand by the window of my studio, my piano tucked under my chin, my fingers moving across the strings. The melody flows from me like water from a spring, gentle and uninterrupted.

I am playing a newly composed piece, one I plan to use as the opening number for my concert. The song swells and falls, 15:23

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weaving through minor keys and unexpected harmonies. The sound fills the room, wrapping around the furniture and drifting out the open window.

Standing there, my silhouette framed by the light, I feel like a painting. Elegant. Captivated. For a moment, the world outside

ceases to exist.

The final note lingers in the air, suspended like a held breath.

Applause breaks the silence.

I turn my head in surprise, my bow lowering. Richard stands in the doorway, his hand still raised from clapping. Electra is beside him, a knowing smile on her face.

“Richard?” I set my piano down on its stand. “When did you get here?”

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Electra answers before he can. “Not long after you started playing.” She gestures toward Richard. “Mr. Moore told me not to interrupt you, so I did not call you.”

During our dinner last night, Richard had expressed interest in visiting my studio. I did not think much of it at the time. Lately, I do not have much to do during the day. Most of my hours are spent here, practicing, composing, refining.

The studio’s location is not a secret. Eventually, it will be used:23

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Chapter 239

for commercial activities anyway. So I agreed without hesitation.

I just did not expect him to arrive so soon.

Richard’s voice is deep and warm, like honey dissolving into tea. “That was beautiful.”

“Thank you.” I turn to Electra. “There are some applicants coming for interviews soon. Can you meet with them first? I will give Richard a quick tour.”

Electra nods. “Sure, go ahead.”

I lead Richard through the studio, my footsteps echoing on the polished floors. Rafael rented this space before my divorce, back when he was still planning to build his own independent team. The studio is enormous, sprawling across three floors. It spans about 8,600 square feet, with a performance hall, practice rooms, and office spaces.

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After I joined Rafael’s team, he let me borrow one of the floors for my own work. As for the rent and renovation costs… my savings were nowhere near enough to support a space this large. I had no choice but to owe him for now and pay it back gradually over time.

I show Richard the floor where I work first. My practice room, with its soundproofed walls and carefully placed acoustic panels. The small office where I keep my sheet music and 15:23

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composition notes. The lounge area where Electra takes her

coffee breaks.

Then I take him to see the other two floors. The performance hall with its high ceilings and tiered seating. The ensemble rooms with their multiple music stands and adjustable lighting.

Once the tour is nearly complete, I lead Richard back toward the front of the studio to find Electra.

Behind me, Richard watches quietly. If I turned around, I might notice that his usually calm and gentle eyes seem to flicker with something warmer. Something more intense.

But I do not turn around. I keep walking, unaware of his gaze.

We return to the main room, where Electra is waiting. She hands me several printed résumés, her expression businesslike.

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“Talia, these candidates look promising.” She taps the stack with her finger. “Take a look and let me know which ones you want to interview. I will arrange them.”

A concert cannot rely just on me and Rafael. While Rafael has a music team behind him, I am starting from scratch. Aside from Electra, who is my agent, I still need additional musicians for certain pieces.

5plan to find a pianist for accompaniment. A few pianists for5:23

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Chapter 239

ensemble performances. Maybe a cellist if the budget allows.

Electra’s phone rings.

She glances at the caller ID, and her expression hardens. She hangs up immediately, her jaw tight. A few seconds later, the phone rings again.

This time, she simply turns it off.

I notice and set down the résumés. “What is wrong?”

“It is Bruno calling again.” Electra scoffs, her voice dripping with disdain. “I have rejected them so many times, but they just will not give up.” She shakes her head. “They call every day, forcing me to shut off my phone.”

I respond indifferently, turning back to the résumés. “It is normal. When it comes to Imema, Aires always takes it seriously.”

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Electra slips her phone into her pocket. “Tomorrow, I am canceling this number and getting a new one.” She crosses her arms. “That way, they will not be able to harass me anymore.”

A soft knock sounds at the studio door.

We both turn. The brass handle turns slowly, and the door swings open.

15:23

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Alpha’s Discarded Luna