Chapter 2

Julian carried Luna into his car, his movements so gentle and cautious, as if he were holding a piece of fragile porcelain.

The heater in the car was blasting, yet Luna was still shivering. Not from the cold, but from sheer terror.

"Don't be scared," Julian said, his voice incredibly soft as he buckled her seatbelt. "Daddy is here."

Luna stared at him, her eyes filled with complete unfamiliarity. "Are you really my daddy?"

"Yes."

"Then why didn't you come find me for three years?"

It felt like something was choking Julian.

Why?

Because Mia told him that Stella had run away with another man, taking the child with her. She told him Luna wasn't even his blood.

At that time, Mia had even produced "proof"—a photo of me standing close to a strange man.

The photo was photoshopped, but he believed it instantly.

What had he said back then?

"A woman like Stella is better off dead anyway."

Looking back now, how utterly pathetic.

Suddenly, Luna asked, "Daddy, did it hurt when Mommy died?"

Julian's grip on the steering wheel tightened instantly.

"Nana said burning to death hurts a lot," Luna said to herself. "Mommy said she was always terrified of fire. Once, she burned her hand while cooking and cried for ages. But when she died, she was surrounded by fire."

"Stop it," Julian cut her off, his voice trembling.

Luna looked at him, shut her mouth obediently, and turned her gaze to the window.

But her tiny hands were shaking.

I was all too familiar with the streets passing by outside the car window.

I had walked those streets countless times, holding Luna in one hand and dragging a heavy woven bag in the other, digging through every single dumpster.

On a good day, I could collect twenty bottles, cash them in for fifty cents, and buy Luna two small buns.

Now, Julian's luxury car was driving on this exact road.

He probably had no idea that right where his tires were rolling, I had taken a terrible fall three years ago. My knees had scraped open, and my blood had seeped into the cracks of the asphalt.

The car finally pulled into a gated hilltop estate in Beverly Hills.

Luna pressed her face against the car window, her eyes wide with awe.

She had never seen such a beautiful house. It looked like a castle from a fairy tale.

"Is this... Daddy's house?"

"It's our house," Julian corrected her.

The grand front door opened, and Mia walked out wearing a silk nightgown, her face adorned with her usual sweet, gentle smile.

But then, she saw Luna.

Her smile froze instantly.

"Julian, who is this...?"

"My daughter." Julian carried Luna down. "She’s living here from now on."

Mia's face turned pale for a second, but she quickly masked it. "Is this Stella's child? She looks so much like her."

She reached out, wanting to touch Luna's face.

Luna shrank back, hiding behind Julian's legs.

"She’s not my auntie," Luna said in a quiet but crystal-clear voice. "She’s a bad person. Mommy told me that because of her, Daddy didn't want us anymore."

The air froze instantly.

Mia's eyes welled up with tears immediately. "Julian, how can a child say such horrible things?"

"Did she say anything wrong?" Julian suddenly asked.

Mia froze.

"The fire three years ago." Julian stared at her, enunciating every single word. "You set it, didn't you?"