The Heartbroken Luna's Choice Banish Love novel Chapter 166

Chapter 166 

Third Person’s POV 

She was playing her part to perfection–maintaining the Luna facade in public, staying quiet and obedient at home. It was as if she had finally learned how to submit. 

But the mask only slipped when it came to her family. That was the only time she showed any real emotion. 

And even then, it wasn’t the hysterical sobbing of the past; it was something sharper, more lucid. 

She would either snap back with a biting retort or shut down entirely, locking every door to her heart. 

Fred gave him a slow, mocking round of applause, his tone bone–chillingly dry. “Isn’t this what you wanted? Communication is overrated anyway. You’ve got the leverage. Just give the orders, and she’ll follow. Perfect, right?” 

Cassian yanked at his collar, looking like the very air in the room was starting to choke him. 

His voice dropped to a raspy whisper. “Yeah, I used force to bring her back. But my goal was to get us back on the same path–not to turn us into enemies.” 

Fred gave him a look of pure disbelief. “You’ve put her through the wringer, Cassian. If she still looked at you like one of her own, she’d have to be insane.” 

The ache in Cassian’s chest intensified. He poured himself another glass and downed it in one go. 

His Adam’s apple bobbed heavily, as if he were trying to swallow a surge of restless anxiety along with the liquor. 

“She’s too stubborn,” he muttered, his voice barely audible. “If I didn’t use force, she never would have looked back.” 

They had grown up together. Adding the three years of their mating, they’d been on the same track for over twenty years. 

He had never seriously entertained the idea of a termination, of them actually going their separate ways. 

In his mind, “separate paths” was never an option. 

In his head, she only felt this way because she completely misunderstood his relationship with Samantha and Algernon. 

But right now, his hands were tied; he couldn’t lay everything out on the table. 

The Ironthorn rules, his grandfather’s ruthless tactics, the family’s strategic layout–each one was a he couldn’t just loosen. 

“Once she calms down and lets this go a little,” he thought, “I’ll make it up to her, I’ll compensate her for every bit of grief she’s enduring now.” 

The two men sat on opposite ends of the sofa, the conversation sinking into a heavy silence. 

The only sound was the rhythmic swallowing of alcohol 

Cassian pulled a cigarette from his pack, his fingers hovering over the lighter. His tone was calm, yet it held a suppressed, lethal edge. “The reason I publicly acknowledged Algernon as my son is because I won’t give Howard another opening to move against them.” 

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