The Rejected Luna (Avery and Kaden) novel Chapter 175

**Between the Wings of Twilight Lies the Memory of You**
by Liren Ava Roen

With a sudden, sharp rip, the buttons of my blouse flew off, one of them clattering to the floor like a fallen star. A wave of icy dread washed over me as the fabric slipped from my shoulders, exposing my skin to the cool air, leaving me feeling vulnerable and exposed.

Panic surged through me like a tidal wave, and I felt my heart race as the realization of his intentions hit me. My pupils dilated in fear. “Mmph (Let go)…” I managed to utter, my voice barely a whisper.

Steven did release my lips, but the transformation in his demeanor was chilling. His face, usually so meticulously composed, was now marred with streaks of blood, his lips painted a vivid crimson that gave him an almost sinister appearance. His dark eyes, filled with a tumult of anger and something else—something darker—pierced through me, as if trying to strip away my defenses. His long, slender fingers slid beneath the hem of my shirt, his touch a cruel taunt that sent shivers down my spine.

“The places I’ve touched… has he touched them too?” The thought spiraled in my mind, a cruel reminder of the humiliation that clawed at my dignity.

I was engulfed in a storm of rage, a mix of fury and desperation. I reached for something on his desk, anything I could use as a weapon against him.

“Steven, I’m going to fucking kill you!” I shouted, my voice ringing with defiance.

But he caught my hand with a grip that felt like ice, his gaze unwavering. “I asked you a question!” His tone was cold, devoid of the warmth I once knew.

“No! Horace is not a filthy, perverted, disgusting pig like you!” The words flew out before I could censor them, and in that moment, I felt a surge of strength. I wrenched my hand free, scrambled off his lap, and slapped him across the face with all the force I could muster. My eyes blazed with fury.

“Steven, if you dare touch me again, I swear I will have you arrested today! I mean it!” My heart pounded in my chest, a mix of fear and determination fueling my words.

“Even if you refuse to divorce me, even if we are married, you cannot touch me without my consent! And don’t you dare tell me I have no proof. The blood on your forehead, the slap mark on your face, and the bruises on my wrist are all evidence of my resistance!” My voice trembled with conviction, each word a declaration of my resolve.

“And even if I don’t get what I want in the end, even if I still can’t divorce you, I guarantee that your losses will be a thousand times greater than mine!” The thought of him being exposed as a monster fueled my anger, the image of a CEO of a publicly traded company, embroiled in scandal, igniting a spark of hope within me. The public outrage would be relentless, and the repercussions for him would be severe.

Steven’s gaze dropped to my wrist, where angry red marks were already deepening into shades of purple—a testament to my desperate struggle against his iron grip. For a fleeting moment, I saw a flicker of realization in his eyes, but it was quickly overshadowed by a storm of suppressed frustration and turmoil.

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