As I entered the kitchen, Olivia was busy preparing my meal, her hands moving with practiced ease. Her concerned gaze met mine, scrutinizing my every feature. "My Luna, what's troubling you? You look worried and stressed," she asked, her voice laced with empathy.

I met her gaze, wishing she could decipher the turmoil within me and offer a solution. Her kind eyes seemed to hold a deep understanding, as if the answer was written across her compassionate face.

I sidestepped her inquiry, my emotions too raw to confront. "Never mind, Olivia. I'm just tired," I murmured, turning to retreat to my room.

Nicholas was out, engrossed in his business endeavors,...