The Rejected Luna (Avery and Kaden) novel Chapter 208

208 /212

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

I held tightly to my mother’s belongings, a surge of anger igniting within me. The air felt electric, charged with the tension between my father and me. “Alright, now delete the video,” he commanded, his voice a low growl that reverberated in the small room.

“What’s the rush?” I replied, my tone deceptively calm, masking the storm brewing inside me. “I also want two million.”

My father was a man forged in the fires of hardship, a ruthless figure who had clawed his way from the depths of poverty to the heights of wealth. He was notorious for his frugality, treating every dollar as if it were a precious gem. I knew from experience that asking for too much would earn me nothing but a cold refusal. This was a delicate dance, and I had to navigate it one careful step at a time.

“What? Two million?!” His face contorted in disbelief and fury, the veins in his neck bulging as if they might burst. “Are you out of your mind? You married into a billionaire’s family. Do you really need money?”

Antonia, my father’s ever-loyal accomplice, let out a mocking laugh, her disdain palpable. “Zephyra, I told you Mr. Lancaster doesn’t care about you. Not a single dime has crossed his palm for you, has it? That’s why you’re here, scheming to squeeze money out of Dad.”

I could feel the heat rising in my chest, but I ignored their taunts, my focus unwavering as I locked eyes with my father.

“Dad, whether Steven treats me well or not is entirely irrelevant. Just so you know, he’s sleeping in my room right now,” I added, letting the words hang in the air like a challenge. “But your situation is crystal clear. Think of it this way: two million is merely the price to make a video that could obliterate your reputation disappear. The video itself isn’t the treasure—you are. Isn’t that right?”

“Besides,” I continued, my voice steady, “I’m not asking for your entire fortune. It’s just two million. Is that truly such a monumental sum?”

With a heavy sigh, he begrudgingly agreed, transferring the money through gritted teeth, his expression a mixture of anger and resignation. I deleted the video right in front of him, feeling a rush of triumph, then sent him the clip of Janice and the rotund man, a little smirk playing on my lips.

“A little bonus gift for you. See? I’m such a good daughter,” I teased, relishing the moment.

My father’s face turned a shade of green, a combination of disgust and rage swirling within him. He stormed off toward his room, leaving a trail of tension in his wake. As he departed, curiosity got the better of me, and I called after him, “Dad, how did Mom really die?”

Antonia shot him a nervous glance, her eyes wide, but my father remained consumed by his anger, the muscles in his jaw twitching.

“How else would she die? From her illness, of course!” he bellowed, his voice echoing down the hall. “You’re all a bunch of ungrateful parasites! Marrying your mother and having you was the worst luck of my life!”