After His Luna Poisoned Him, He Believed I Betrayed Him

My phone vibrated in my pocket as I was organizing the catering supplies for tomorrow's event. I pulled it out, hoping it wasn't another demand from Nolan.

"Ms. Ellis?" The voice on the other end was clinical, detached. "This is Nurse Patel from Manhattan General."

My heart skipped a beat. "Yes? Is everything okay with Elder Gordon?"

"I'm afraid not." Her voice softened slightly. "Mr. Gordon went into cardiac arrest thirty minutes ago. We've stabilized him for now, but the doctor says the surgery needs to happen tomorrow. Otherwise..."

She didn't need to finish the sentence.

"Tomorrow?" I gripped the phone tighter. "But the surgery isn't scheduled until next week."

"His condition has deteriorated significantly. The doctor says we can't wait any longer."

I closed my eyes, fighting back tears. "What about the cost? I've already paid the deposit."

"That's the other thing I needed to discuss with you." She hesitated. "Because of the complications, the procedure is more complex than originally anticipated. The price has increased."

My stomach dropped as she named the new figure.

"I understand," I whispered, though I didn't. How could this be happening?

After hanging up, I pulled out the check from Nolan—the one that had seemed like salvation yesterday. With the amount he'd deducted for Kylie's robe, it wasn't enough. Not nearly enough.

---

The pawn shop was tucked away on a side street, its neon sign flickering weakly in the afternoon light. I stood outside for several minutes, my hand clutching the small velvet pouch containing my parents' mating rings.

"These are all I have left of them," I whispered to myself, feeling the cool metal through the fabric.

With a deep breath, I pushed open the door. A bell jangled overhead, announcing my presence.

"Help you?" The broker was a heavy-set man with kind eyes that belied his gruff demeanor.

I approached the counter, my hand trembling as I placed the velvet pouch before him.

"I need to sell these."

He opened the pouch carefully, his expression changing as he examined the rings. "These are quality pieces. Antique?"

I nodded. "They were my parents' mating rings."

He looked up at me, something like understanding passing through his eyes. "You sure about this?"

"No," I admitted, my voice breaking. "But I need the money."

As he examined the rings under a magnifier, tears welled up in my eyes. I couldn't help it—these were the last physical connection I had to my parents. The last pieces of my former life.

"Five thousand," he offered finally.

It wasn't enough, but it would help. I nodded, wiping away tears.

"I'll take it."

The broker reached for his paperwork, but before he could speak again, the bell above the door rang out.

"Interesting choice of establishments, Jane."

My blood froze at the sound of that voice. Nolan.

I turned slowly, finding him filling the doorway, his presence overwhelming in the small shop.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, instinctively stepping back.

"Following my property," he replied coldly. His eyes flicked to the rings on the counter. "Selling your parents' legacy just like you sold ours?"

The accusation hit me like a physical blow.

"You don't understand," I whispered.

"I understand perfectly." His lip curled in disgust. "You're either buying drugs or planning your next disappearance."

The broker looked between us, clearly uncomfortable.

"Five thousand for the rings," Nolan said abruptly, pulling out his wallet. "I'll take them."

"Nolan, no—" I started, but he cut me off.

"Six thousand." He slapped the cash on the counter. "And a check for ten thousand more."

The broker's eyes widened.

Nolan pulled out a checkbook, wrote quickly, then tore out the check and threw it at my feet.

"Take it and get out of my sight," he said, his voice deadly quiet. "I'll keep the rings until you learn what loyalty means."

I stared at the check lying on the dirty floor. Ten thousand dollars—enough for Gordon's surgery.

Slowly, feeling every eye in the shop on me, I bent down and picked up the check.

"Thank you," I whispered, though the words tasted like ash in my mouth.

Nolan's eyes flashed with something—surprise, perhaps, that I would thank him after such humiliation. But it was gone so quickly I might have imagined it.

He turned to leave, the rings now in his possession—my last connection to my parents, gone.

"Wait," I called out suddenly.

He paused at the door.

"Why?" I asked. "Why did you help me?"

For a moment, something vulnerable flickered across his face. Then his expression hardened again.

"I didn't do it for you," he said coldly. "I did it because no one deserves to lose everything they love."

The door closed behind him with a finality that echoed through my chest.