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Chapter 3 - Chapter 3 - The Moonlit Garden

Julia rose from her seat.

Gracefully, smoothly — as if she wasn't walking but gliding across the floor.

With a glass of wine in her hand, she headed for the exit.

All eyes were on her.

And every gaze was like a blade — judgmental, greedy, envious.

The air seemed to thicken with emotions, filling the banquet hall with a heavy, suffocating atmosphere.

She could feel it: she couldn't breathe in here.

Desire, fear, and hatred blended into one sticky cloud.

She crossed the hall confidently and disappeared into the darkness, dissolving into the night's cool air.

When she stepped into the garden, her whole body trembled.

Not from the cold — but from tension.

The scent of roses — thick, damp, almost overwhelming — hit her nose.

Her lashes fluttered, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

Everything felt sharp, uneasy.

As if the night itself was breathing with her.

Then — a sip of wine.

Fiery, bitter.

Time slowed down.

She looked at the moon.

And walked — soft, almost weightless steps — toward the bench in the middle of the garden.

It was quiet there. Only the rustling of leaves. Only her and the night.

Kailan noticed Julia was gone.

He began to search for her with his eyes, turning his head sharply, as if he couldn't breathe without her presence.

His chest tightened.

Lia felt it.

— Darling… are you looking for someone? — she asked with a strained smile.

But inside — panic.

She clenched her fingers under the table, breaking her nails.

Julia had returned.

And once again, she was taking his gaze. His desire. His mind.

And Julia…

Was drinking wine under the moon.

Sitting alone, feeling the tension in her chest slowly begin to fade.

The wind touched her cheek. The sensation was almost tender.

She closed her eyes and leaned back. Everything was slowing. Becoming lighter.

And right at that moment — a rustle.

Behind her.

Her body tensed. She thought — the wind…

But then:

— My lady… may I join you tonight?

A voice.

Deep, husky, with a soft rasp, like velvet brushing skin.

She slowly turned her head.

A man. Tall. Almost two meters.

A strong body, like a soldier's or warrior's.

Broad shoulders, confident posture.

Hair — dark as a moonless night.

Eyes — cold blue, piercing to the bone.

He was handsome. Dangerously handsome.

Exactly her type.

Her heart beat harder.

Her cheeks flushed. The wine spread warmth through her body.

But she didn't flinch.

She hid her emotions behind a mask of calm, lifting her chin slightly.

But the wind knew the truth.

It gently touched her neck. As if whispering:

"Allow yourself to feel."

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