The Heartbroken Luna's Choice Banish Love novel Chapter 161

Chapter 161
Third Person’s POV 
Cassian stared into her eyes, his gaze flickering slightly. “Tell me then.” 

The two of them locked eyes in silence. The air was a thick cocktail of champagne and perfume, but beneath the surface, the distinct auras of various Alphas pressed down like invisible tides surging in the dark. 

Trista let out a faint, hollow smirk. 

It was because she was born into a truly powerful pack. Her upbringing and pride had been carved into her marrow from the very beginning. 

She had been taught from birth to maintain decorum; she wasn’t the type to cause a scene in public or let herself spiral out of control just because the bond was cracking. 

The Silverlight pack had once held her high before their decline. 

She had no powerful family left to shield her, no mountain to lean on–and so, she became the perfect candidate for a controllable Luna. 

Cassian cared about appearances. He cared about his reputation and the public image of Ironthorn. 

She happened to be the perfect fit–someone who could stand by his side when needed and hide every bit of ugliness with grace. 

Just then, Fred walked over. 

Anger was written all over his face. He shot Cassian a venomous glare and reached out, grabbing Trista by the arm to pull her away. 

His movements were blunt, as if he were physically yanking her out of a net. 

Cassian stepped in to block them, his tone unruffled. “When did you get back?” 

Fred gave him a cold, disinterested look, his voice dripping with resentment. “If you hadn’t called my dad, would I have been shipped abroad and locked away for so long? You cold- blooded bastard. I’m done with you.” 

Trista shot Fred a look of pure gratitude. 

No wonder she hadn’t seen him since her return to LA. 

Fred reached up and swiped Cassian’s hand off Trista’s waist, his tone showing zero respect. “Take your dirty hand off her. I need a word with Trista.” 

Cassian didn’t pick a fight right there. Instead, he turned to Trista and gave her a “thoughtful” instruction. “I’m going to go say hello to the other Alphas. Don’t go running off while you’re alone.” 

In this public setting, Trista gave him the face he required. 

She gave a non–committal “Mhm” and didn’t say another word. 

Then, she turned and followed Fred away. 

They walked all the way to a small side hall outside the main venue. 

Once Fred confirmed they were alone, he lowered his voice. “Since you’ve been back in LA, has he been making things difficult for you again?” 

Trista didn’t even know where to start. 

Ever since Samantha and her son returned to the city, Cassian had draped an invisible net over her head once more. 

The only person who could make Cassian abandon a high–society event after a single phone call was never a business partner or a social obligation. 

Only one person held that kind of power–Samantha. 

She didn’t ask questions, nor did she let any emotion show on her face. She simply nodded to Fred, her tone as calm as if she were discussing someone else’s business. “Fred, I’m heading home.” 

She left with a steady pace, neither too fast nor too slow, keeping her pheromones pushed down low. 

To others, that restraint looked like poise; to her, it felt like a blade, keeping her mind sharp and clear. 

When she arrived home late that night, Cassian was indeed gone. 

Trista showered, changed into her pajamas, and curled up on the sofa to message Attwater. 

The glow from the crystal screen reflected on her face, making her expression look even more detached. 

She was just about to head to the bedroom to rest when the lock clicked. The metal sound felt like a slit cutting through the night. 

Cassian was home. 

Trista watched him walk straight toward her. She stayed where she was, neither moving away nor going to meet him. 

Cassian leaned down and draped a light blanket over her. The gesture looked caring, but his voice carried a natural, presumptive inquiry. “Why didn’t you tell me before you left? You just came back on your own.”