Beneath the Same Old Moon

Rivergate's most elite social circle had always shared an unspoken rule.

Men were free to play the field as they pleased, drifting from one woman to the next.

Women, on the other hand, were only allowed a single, discreet indulgence on the day they came of age—a privately hired "life assistant" meant to take care of their physical needs.

…

On my coming-of-age day, I picked Elliot at first glance from a hundred applicants who came in for interviews. He wore gold-rimmed glasses, looked composed and restrained, and carried himself with a calm maturity that set him apart.

He was steady, meticulous, and obsessively clean. The only condition he agreed to was that there would be no bodily contact—hands only. And after every encounter, he would scrub his hands with disinfectant alcohol a hundred times.

Over five years, the empty bottles alone were enough to circle the villa seven times.

I used to think that one day, I'd help him overcome his barriers and truly make him mine. That illusion shattered the night I got drunk and accidentally wandered into Elliot's room.

Hidden beneath his pillow was a DV camera, and inside were several videos of him pleasuring himself.

On the screen, the same man who had always been calm and rational with me was staring at the lingerie of the adopted sister who had caused my mother's death, his Adam's apple bobbing as he moaned her name, "Chloe… I love you…"

Only then did I realize that every step he had taken toward me had never been about me at all. It had always been a carefully concealed, long-nurtured love for her. So, it was very odd that he cried when I took my adopted sister's place in marrying someone else.

I'll Marry Him—On My Terms

"Alright. I'll marry that Hunting bipolar mess in Chloe's place."

For the first time in years, my usually taciturn father, Richard Graf, nearly flipped his desk.

He shot to his feet, excitement flashing across his face. "Natalie, you've finally come to your senses?! The Huntings have been pressing hard. The wedding has to happen next week. What sort of wedding dress would you like? I'll have someone place the order right away—"

"Don't bother. I only have two conditions. I'll marry him as long as you agree to those terms."

The joy on his face vanished at once. He sat back down, wariness creeping into his eyes. "What do you want? If you're thinking of hurting your sister, I suggest you drop it now. Don't make me angry."

"My real sister died a long time ago. Have you forgotten?" I smiled at him, frost cutting through my gaze. "You were the one who personally ordered her grave to be relocated."

Chloe Shelton was the daughter of my father's first love.

She was only a year younger than me. Her mother passed away eight years ago. My father, who had never been able to forget the dead woman, brought her daughter home and acknowledged her as his adopted daughter.

My mother fell from the stairs the first d*mned day she darkened our doorstep. She died that day, and so did my unborn sister.

My mother hadn't even been dead a full week when Chloe begged my father to move my mother's grave and replace it with her own mother's. My mother would never know peace, even in her death.

My father's expression darkened.

He grabbed the crystal ashtray from the desk and raised it at me. However, he managed to stop himself before he could hurl it. He closed his eyes, his voice turning sharp. "State your conditions."

"First, I want Chloe's mother's grave moved. She is never to enter the Graf family mausoleum in this lifetime. Second, I want you to transfer Elliot to Chloe's side. I'm done with him."

My father's face went completely grim. "Natalie Graf, are you out of your mind?"

I was. This family had driven me insane.

I tugged at the corner of my mouth and spoke softly. "So, what's your answer? Yes or no?"

He fell silent, lit a cigar, and sat there amid the smoke for a long time before finally forcing down his rage. When he spoke again, the words sounded like they had been squeezed out of his throat. "Fine. I'll do it. I'll take care of it the day you get married."

"No." I met his gaze, unwavering. "I want to see the grave relocated with my own eyes before the wedding. Otherwise, you can wait for the Hunting family to come looking for Chloe."

The crystal ashtray exploded at my feet. My father's voice came out hoarse and broken as he hissed, "Fine."