Alpha's Discarded Luna (Talia) novel Chapter 32

Chapter 32

Talia’s POV

The door closes behind Raymond, and the atmosphere in the room shifts instantly.

It’s like someone sucked all the warmth

out with his departure. I focus on the food in front of me, willing myself to feel nothing.

Aires’s voice cuts through the quiet, sharp and laced with something ugly. “We’re not divorced yet, Talia. Have you no shame? Parading him through here like some lovesick fool while you’re still my wife?”

The words should hurt. Maybe they would haye, once. Now they just bounce off the

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numb armor I’ve built around myself.

“I called someone who actually answers their phone.” I don’t look

up from my meal. My voice is calm, measured. “The hospital wanted payment. You were busy with Ms. Volkov. Should I have waited to

be discharged onto the street?”

His jaw tightens. Good! Let him chew on that.

The truth is, I called Electra first.

She stayed the entire night, adjusting uncomfortably on the hospital chair. She only left this morning because I forced her

1. to.

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But Robin needed to be picked up from school. Robin, who’s been more concerned about me in two days than my own son has been in months… so I called

Raymond.

And he did come back, with Robin’s following him like a bundle of worry and containers of food made specifically for

1. me.

But I don’t explain any of this to Aires, he hasn’t earned my explanations.

r

I continue eating. The silence stretches on, and I hope it’s as uncomfortable for him as the last four years have been for

1. me.

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Finally, he speaks again, his voice dropping to that cold, official tone he uses when delivering judgments. “I’m here to talk about the accident. Why did you do it, Talia! Why did you hit her?”

I put down my chopsticks and meet his gaze. It’s like looking into a frozen lake: beautiful yet empty, hiding nothing good

beneath.

“I’ve told you already. Her car hit mine. Ask her for more details on why and how it happened.”

His eyes narrow, analysing my words. “I did. I also interviewed witnesses. Multiple people saw you accelerate through that intersection. They said you never eyen 16:09

Chapter 32

tried to press brakes.”

Witnesses? Of course!

The food suddenly tastes like ash in my mouth. She planted them, paid them, or simply relied on the army of followers who would swear the sun set at noon if

she asked.

This isn’t an investigation. It’s a scripted act, and I’m the villain they have all

agreed to hate.

୮

“Have you found any footage?” I ask, already knowing the answer.

“Not yet. The area lacks cameras.”

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Because she chose that intersection carefully. Because she’s methodical, patient, ruthless in ways he can’t see through his blind devotion.

I hold his gaze. “Let me ask you something directly, Aires. What do you believe?”

His expression flickers, hiding a trace of uncertainty underneath. But it’s gone before I can name it. “The witnesses are

consistent. You’re at fault. The question is whether it was intentional or merely

reckless.”

“And?”

“And regardless of intent, you’re

I

.

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responsible. You didn’t brake. You hit

her.”

“So what’s your solution?” My voice remains flat. I won’t give him the satisfaction of seeing me crack.

He delivers his verdict like a king dispensing mercy. “Public opinion is spiraling. Issue a public apology to Imema. I’ll handle the narrative, suppress the worst of it. This can end quietly.”

I stare at him for a long moment. Then I laugh–a short, disbelieving sound that holds no humor. “Just an apology? She’s so grievously injured. I assumed you’d demand I flog myself in the town square.”

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His expression doesn’t change. “She isn’t seriously hurt. I’ll speak with her. After you apologize, I’ll contain the damage.”

“Let me understand your proposal.” I lean back, arms crossing over my chest. “You want me to apologize for something I didn’t do. To a woman who deliberately crashed into me. In exchange, you’ll consider asking your rabid mob to stop tearing me apart online. Is that accurate?”

His patience visibly frays. “It’s an apology, Talia. Words. Is your pride really worth more than peace?”

“Here’s my counteroffer.” My voice drops, each word precise and cold. “I didn’t hit her. She hit me. If anyone owes an

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apology, it’s Imema. To me. Publicly. With the same fervor she’s used to destroy my reputation.”

His eyes flash with disbelief. “I investigated. The evidence is clear. Witnesses, multiple accounts… all of them are consistent. There is only one thing I’m not able to understand. Why do you keep lying?”

“Witnesses, Aires. You have witnesses. Handpicked, conveniently unanimous witnesses who all tell the exact same story. Does that strike you as credible investigation, or a script someone handed

out?”

I lean forward slightly. “Did it occur to 16:09

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Chapter 32

you to question why every single person

saw the same thing? To wonder if maybe

they were told what to see?”

His expression darkens. “What are you implying?”

“Nothing you would believe. Because you simply don’t want to believe it.”

I settle back against my pillows, suddenly exhausted. “I didn’t hit her, and I won’t apologize. If you want me in prison, have me arrested. If you want the mob to keep howling, let them. I’m done defending myself to people who’ve already decided I’m guilty.”

Acold smile curves his lips, like the

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victorious look of a man who believes

he holds all the cards. “Fine, then! Be stubborn, be as arrogant as you feel like. But when you come crawling back, begging me to save you from the consequences of your own pride, don’t expect even a shred of mercy.”

I meet his gaze without flinching, without blinking, without a single tremor in my voice. “I won’t turn to you, ever in my life. You’ve made your choice, Aires. You chose her, again and always. I’m just finally choosing myself.”

Something flickers in those frozen eyes.

Frustration? Confusion? A crack in the

ice? It doesn’t matter. It’s too late for

cracks.

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He turns sharply and strides to the door. His hand pauses on the handle, his back to me. For a moment, I think he might turn around and say something, remembering that I’m his mate.

His wife, the mother of his son.

But he doesn’t. The door closes with a soft

click that feels louder than a scream.

I sit in the silence, remembering how thousands of people who have never seen me, met me… never heard my side, have already convicted me as the culprit.

I pick up my chopsticks. I finish every bite of the meal Raymond’s cook prepared.

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Someone’s kindness shouldn’t go to

waste.

Let them do their worst, let Aires believe what he wants, and let Imema spin her webs of lies.

I’ve survived worse than the outrage they paid for. I have survived loving him, even when his heart belonged to someone else… after that, everything else is just

noise.

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