Alpha's Discarded Luna (Talia) novel Chapter 69

Chapter 67

Talia’s POV

I nod at the teacher, keeping my voice calm and professional.

“I apologize for the confusion. Robin’s father is currently on a business trip and couldn’t be here, so I came in his place.”

Imema’s eyes widen with feigned surprise. “Ms. Perseus, you

mean you’re not here for Aeson at all? You came for Robin?”

“Yes.” The word is simple, final.

Aires’s voice cuts through, cold and accusing. “Talia. Your

own son needed you, and you didn’t come. But you rush here for someone else’s child. Don’t you see how inappropriate

that is?”

I meet his gaze without flinching. “I’m just the Perseus family nanny. Do I have any right to care for him?”

His brow furrows. “Nanny? What are you talking about?”

“Didn’t you hear your son?” I shoot back. “I’m the help. The hired hand. That’s my role in your family.!”

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His jaw tightens. “Children say foolish things. You can’t hold

that against him.”

A cold laugh escapes me. “Let me understand. I’m supposed to be tolerant of a dying woman. Tolerant of your elders. Tolerant of your friends. Tolerant of my own child. Tell me, Aires–after marrying you, am I expected to be tolerant of

everyone except myself? Am I supposed to have no feelings,

no boundaries, no right to be hurt?”

|

His face darkens. “Are you seriously arguing about this right

now?”

“Does it embarrass you?” I tilt my head. “You seemed

perfectly comfortable guilting me a moment ago. Now that

I’m answering, it’s a problem?”

Imema can’t resist. Her voice drips with false concern. “Ms. Perseus, Aeson is just a child. Why must you be so harsh with

him? He only wants-”

“Shut up.”

The words ring out sharp and clear. Everyone freezes.

“Who do you think you are?” I stare at her, letting her see 2/7

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every ounce of contempt I feel. “You have no standing here.

Say one more word, and I’ll make sure this conversation

is recorded and played for every media outlet that still

remembers your name.”

Her eyes fill with tears–on cue, always on cue.

Robin’s small voice cuts through the tension. “Miss, why do

you always cry? Every time I see you, you’re crying. Aeson

and I got hurt fighting today, and I didn’t cry. But you’re crying, and you’re a grown–up. That’s just embarrassing.”

Imema’s expression freezes. For once, she has no response.

The teacher, clearly exhausted by this circus, steps in.

“Alright. Let’s focus on resolving the situation between the

two children.”

I turn to her, all business. “Regarding Robin’s actions, we are prepared to apologize to Aeson. When Robin’s father returns from his trip, we will extend a formal apology to Aeson’s parents as well. I assure you this won’t happen again. We will cover all medical expenses and any necessary follow–up treatment. I apologize for the trouble we’ve caused.”

My tone is measured, reasonable–everything a school 3/7

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administrator wants to hear.

The teacher nods, relieved. In a kindergarten like this,

medical costs are nothing. The wealthy parents here could

burn money for warmth. What matters is behavior. Attitude.

Accountability.

Robin apologized. I’ve taken responsibility. By any

reasonable standard, this should be over.

But nothing is simple when Aires is involved.

Aeson tugs at his father’s sleeve, face twisted with outrage.

“Dad, I won’t accept this! He hit me today, and he’s been

bullying me when no one’s watching!”

Aires’s eyes, cold as winter steel, fix on Robin. The boy

flinches, shrinking behind me instinctively.

I move, blocking Aires’s line of sight completely.

His expression hardens further. “Talia. Your son is standing right there. And you’re shielding another man’s child.”

I glance at Aeson, then back at Aires. “He has plenty of

protectors. He doesn’t need me.” I look down at Robin, my 4/7

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voice softening. “This one only has me.”

Robin’s small hand finds mine, gripping tight. “Ms. Perseus, you’re so kind.” He looks at Aeson with open envy–a child

wishing for what another takes for granted.

Aeson’s face contorts with jealous fury. “She’s a terrible

mother! A horrible woman who bullies Ms. Volkov!”

Robin steps forward, small but fierce. “Ms. Perseus is NOT a

terrible person! YOU’RE the ones who bully HER! I’ve seen it!

You always make her apologize to that crying lady!”

His voice rises, years of observation pouring out. “You tell

everyone Ms. Perseus isn’t your mother–just a nanny! You

hurt her feelings! You and your awful father drove her away,

and now you blame her for not caring?!”

He’s shaking, but he doesn’t stop.

“Ms. Perseus is a WONDERFUL mother! You might not want

her, but I DO!”

The room goes silent.

The teachers exchange glances. They know these children— 5/7

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Aeson, occasionally arrogant but generally well–behaved. Robin, always polite, always kind, beloved by every staff

member. If Robin defends someone, that someone must be

worthy.

Their eyes shift to Aires. To Imema. Calculating.

A mother driven away. A mistress hovering. A child parroting adult cruelty.

Imema squirms under the weight of their stares. Her

resentment toward me burns hotter.

Aires’s voice cuts through, cold and relentless. “Talia. You heard Aeson. Robin has been secretly bullying him. Sending photos, provoking him. I know my son. He wouldn’t react this

way without cause.”

I look at him, this man who sees evidence only when it supports his conclusions.

I want to say that he should start doubting his son as well,

especially since he has been fed lies by his mistress. So

much, that he’s even confused about who his mother is.

But I swallow the words, choosing to hold my tongue. 6/7

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