Luna woke up feeling unusually refreshed, as if the heaviness of the previous night had dissipated entirely. It was as though her mind had reset itself, pushing aside any lingering doubts or worries. Today was a new day, and she was determined to face it with renewed energy and focus. She stretched languidly, allowing herself a moment to savor the peacefulness before the demands of her day began to encroach.
Slipping out of bed, Luna made her way to her walk-in closet, where rows of designer clothing awaited her. She chose a cream-colored blouse made of the finest silk, its fabric smooth and cool against her skin. The blouse had a high neckline, adorned with delicate lace trim, giving it an air of understated elegance. She paired it with tailored navy trousers that hugged her figure perfectly, the clean lines elongating her legs and giving her a look of quiet authority. Her shoes, a pair of nude pumps, added just the right amount of height without sacrificing comfort. Finally, she fastened a slim gold watch around her wrist, a gift from her father on her last birthday, though it felt more like an obligation than a heartfelt gesture.
As she descended the grand staircase, the marble steps cold beneath her feet, Luna was met with the usual sight of the household staff bustling about. Each of them paused momentarily to bow their heads in respect as she passed by, a gesture she had grown accustomed to, though she often wished they would just greet her normally. It made her feel less like a person and more like a figurehead, a symbol of the Ross family name rather than Luna herself.
Among the staff was the young helper she had stood up for the previous evening. His face still bore the traces of fear and embarrassment from Vivienne's harsh words, but when he caught sight of Luna, his expression softened into one of deep gratitude. He bowed low, his movements more sincere than the others, and Luna offered him a small, reassuring smile in return. She hoped that he knew her intervention had been more than just a fleeting act of kindness; she genuinely disliked the way Vivienne treated people as if they were disposable.
As Luna entered the formal dining room, the atmosphere shifted. The long, polished table was already occupied by members of her family, the sight instantly reminding her of the power dynamics that dominated her home. At the head of the table sat her father, John Ross, the patriarch of the Ross empire. His presence was commanding, his posture rigid, and his sharp eyes immediately locked onto Luna as she approached.
"Good morning, Father," Luna greeted him, her voice calm and controlled.
"Morning, Luna," her father replied curtly, barely glancing up from the papers he was reviewing, no doubt another business deal that required his attention. He was a man of few words, and when he did speak to her, it was often more like issuing orders than engaging in a fatherly conversation. To him, Luna was an extension of the business, a piece on the chessboard he moved to secure the Ross legacy.
Luna took her seat at the table, careful to maintain her composure. She had long since learned not to expect warmth or affection from her father. His approval, she realized, was something she would always have to earn, and even then, it would be given grudgingly.
Vivienne, her stepmother, was seated beside John, her perfectly styled hair and makeup in place even this early in the morning. She gave Luna a sweet smile as she took her seat, but Luna knew better than to trust it. The smile didn't reach her eyes, and Luna could see the calculating glint behind them. Vivienne was a master of manipulation, always saying just the right thing to keep John on her side, yet never revealing the full extent of her ambitions.
"Good morning, Luna dear," Vivienne said in a honeyed tone. "You look lovely today. Did you sleep well?"
Luna nodded politely. "Yes, thank you. I hope you did as well."
Vivienne gave a slight nod, her eyes flickering to John as she reached for her teacup. "John, darling," she began, her voice smooth and practiced. "I was just thinking this morning about how proud we should all be of Luna's accomplishments. She's stepping into her role as heir with such grace, don't you agree?"
Luna could feel the trap in her words even before she finished speaking. Vivienne was always careful to appear supportive in public, but in private, she never missed an opportunity to sow seeds of doubt or question Luna's capabilities. Luna's guard went up immediately, but she maintained her expression, not wanting to give Vivienne the satisfaction of a reaction.
John glanced up briefly, his expression unreadable. "Luna is doing what is expected of her," he replied, his voice firm, though not exactly filled with praise. "There's still a lot to prove."
Luna's heart sank a little at his response, though it was exactly what she had anticipated. She knew her father well enough to understand that he valued results over words. No matter how much effort she put in, it would never be enough until she delivered something tangible, something that solidified her place as his heir.
Vivienne tilted her head, her smile still in place. "Of course, John. But it must be said that the responsibility of running such a vast empire is a heavy one. Perhaps Luna could use more guidance, more... assistance, in her journey. After all, isn't it our duty to ensure the family business is in the best possible hands? Perhaps," she added with a subtle glance in Luna's direction, "it would be wise to consider all options when thinking about the future. We wouldn't want to overlook anyone who might be better suited to the task, would we?"
Luna's grip tightened on her fork. Vivienne's words were thinly veiled suggestions that her own children—Luna's step-siblings—might be better suited for the role. It was a constant battle, one that Luna had been fighting ever since her father had declared her his heir. Despite her efforts, Vivienne's subtle undermining never ceased, always casting doubt on Luna's capabilities.
John, however, remained unmoved. He placed his papers down, finally giving his full attention to the conversation. His gaze was sharp, cutting through the pleasant façade that Vivienne tried to maintain. "I appreciate your concern, Vivienne, but the decision has already been made. Luna is my heir, and that is not up for discussion."
Vivienne's smile faltered, but she quickly recovered, nodding graciously. "Of course, darling. I was only thinking of what's best for the family."
John gave a curt nod, dismissing the topic as quickly as it had arisen. Luna felt a small surge of relief, though she knew better than to let her guard down. Her father's word was law in this household, but Vivienne was not one to give up easily. She would continue to plant seeds of doubt wherever she could, hoping they would take root and grow into something she could use to her advantage.
As the breakfast continued, Luna found herself tuning out the conversation around her. Her stepmother's presence was suffocating, and the absence of her stepbrother, who was conveniently abroad, only added to the tension in the room. He was a shadow that loomed over her, the favored son who had yet to return and make his own claim for the family's fortune. But it was her stepsister, Camille, who made life under this roof truly unbearable.
Camille sat across from Luna, her expression one of feigned innocence as she sipped her juice. But Luna knew better. Camille had always been a thorn in her side, constantly finding ways to make her life difficult, whether through petty sabotage or cruel comments disguised as jokes. And now, with her mother subtly waging her own war, Luna was caught in the crossfire of a family that would do anything to see her fail.
As the meal came to an end, Luna excused herself from the table, eager to escape the oppressive atmosphere of the dining room. She needed to focus on the day ahead, on the challenges that awaited her at the Ross Empire offices. This was her legacy, her future, and she was determined not to let anyone, not even her own family, take that away from her.