Page 74 of Luna
A town I had to hike miles and miles to reach so that I wouldn’t alert anyone to my arrival.
Honestly, I have no one to blame but myself.
After being woken from a dead sleep by a phone call from a stranger. A woman who claimed to know me.
Mariana.
Something flutters in my chest at the thought of her name.
But not recognition—never recognition.
I hadn’t been able to go back to sleep as I racked my brain, trying to figure out who the hell the woman was.
I was waiting for Fabian in his office when he arrived, and he’d been very interested in what I had to tell him.
He’d shown me a picture of the woman, watching me closely. I’d looked over the facial features and decided she was pretty, but as per usual, there was no recognition.
There never is.
I was shot in the head thirteen years ago—by this Mariana, if Fabian is to be believed. I have no reason to doubt his words, but something about it doesn’t ring true.
It had taken me three years to recover fully, but I’d come out the other side a different man. Or so I’m told.
My past is almost completely blank. If I think hard enough, I can remember the love of my parents. Then from another man and a girl.
I never remember their names or anything about them. I never see their faces.
I could pass them in a crowd and never recognize them. Not just because I don’t remember them, but because the gunshot made me face blind.
They say it’s only moderate as I can distinguish features, and I can tell someone’s face differs from the person they’re standing next to. But I’ll never recognize a face I’ve seen before—no matter how many times I see it.
Prosopagnosia caused by a traumatic brain injury.
Hell, I can’t even tell you what Fabian looks like, and I see him daily. I can describe his face when I’m looking at it, but the moment he’s no longer in sight, I can’t recall a single detail.
I can no longer rely on my eyes to tell me who someone is. Now I have to rely on other cues—their voice or gait. The cadence of their words. Their scents.
It’s a pain in the ass, but I’ve learned to live with my limitations over the ten years since Fabian took me back under his wing. He gave me back the job he said I held when his father was still alive. I was treated almost like family, helping him lead the cartel and cleaning up any messes he needed me to.
The mess that needs cleaning up now is Mariana Celine Vallejo Gomez—Fabian’s half-sister. Or Luna Salazar, as she’s now known.
He says she’s a threat to everything he’s built—that we’ve built.
I don’t understand how one woman—an omega at that—can threaten an empire, but I’m basically just a grunt. What do I know?
That something isn’t right about his story.
I push away the thought, unwilling to give it any attention.
I have no reason to doubt Fabian. I’ve never doubted him once in ten years, so why am I suddenly having these traitorous thoughts? Thoughts that could see me dead—for real this time.
Shaking my head, I slowly make my way through the town, sticking to the shadows.
It’s the early hours of the morning, a few hours before sunrise, and most people are sleeping, but I know better than to take my chances.
Fabian would prefer if I were to take her and bring her to him, but if I can’t, then I’m to kill her.
I balk at the idea, and I don’t know why.
