Chapter 3: Cosmic Gambles
Luna Harper stood outside The Observatory, a trendy rooftop bar in West Hollywood, the city's skyline glittering below like a constellation of ambition. The air was warm, laced with the scent of citrus from nearby cocktail glasses and the faint hum of traffic on Sunset Boulevard. She adjusted her emerald-green dress—a thrift store find she'd paired with a chunky amethyst necklace—and checked her phone. Ethan Caldwell's assistant, Noah, had texted an hour ago: Meet at The Observatory, 8 p.m. Neutral ground. No press. Luna smirked, tucking her phone into her clutch. Neutral ground? Cute. Ethan thought he was setting the rules, but Luna had been playing this game since she read her first star chart at twelve.
The bar was packed with LA's usual mix: influencers snapping selfies, tech bros in overpriced sneakers, and a few wannabe actors nursing overpriced drinks. Luna scanned the crowd, her intuition tingling like a cosmic radar. She spotted Ethan before he saw her, seated at a corner table with a view of the Hollywood sign. He looked every bit the billionaire CEO—charcoal suit, crisp white shirt, no tie, his dark hair just tousled enough to hint at a human beneath the polish. His blue eyes were fixed on his phone, but the tension in his jaw told her he was waiting for her. A Leo through and through: all fire and control, but curious enough to take the bait.
Luna took a deep breath, channeling her Gemini moon's charm, and sauntered over. "Mr. Caldwell," she said, sliding into the seat across from him without waiting for an invitation. "I'd say the stars aligned for this meeting, but you'd probably call that a glitch."
Ethan looked up, his expression a mix of amusement and wariness. "Miss Harper," he said, his voice smooth but guarded. "You've got a knack for making an entrance." He gestured to the bartender, who materialized with a glass of sparkling water for Luna—her order, somehow, already known. She raised an eyebrow, impressed but not surprised. Leos loved to flex their control.
"Nice touch," she said, sipping the water. "But let's skip the small talk. You're here because I was right about GreenWave. And you're wondering what else I know." She leaned forward, her necklace catching the light, and pulled a single tarot card from her clutch, placing it face-down on the table. "Care to find out?"
Ethan's lips twitched, but he didn't touch the card. "I'm here because you crashed my press conference, made a scene, and somehow knew about a client meeting that could cost me millions. I don't believe in psych十二生鋻
System: ic nonsense, but I'm not reckless enough to ignore a lead. So, Luna Harper, what's your angle? Inside source? Lucky guess? Or are you just really good at playing the room?"
Luna grinned, unfazed by his skepticism. She'd expected it—Scorpio risings were notorious for sniffing out motives. "No sources, no guesses," she said, tapping the card. "Just the stars. And maybe a little intuition." She flipped the card: The Magician. "Resourcefulness, power, taking control of your destiny. Sound like anyone you know?"
Ethan's eyes flicked to the card, then back to her. "Cute. But I'm not here for a parlor trick. You said my stock's going to tank. You said TechTrend's poaching my client. If you've got information, spill it. Otherwise, I've got better things to do."
Luna leaned back, crossing her arms. "Oh, I've got information. But it's not the kind you put in a spreadsheet. Your company's got a leak—someone close, someone you trust. They're feeding TechTrend your next big move. I saw it in the cards, and I felt it when I walked into your press conference. The energy was off, like a planet out of orbit." She paused, watching his reaction. His face stayed neutral, but his fingers tightened around his glass. Gotcha.
"You're saying I've got a traitor?" he said, his voice low, almost a growl. "That's a bold claim for someone who reads fortunes for a living."
"Bold but true," Luna shot back. "And I don't just read fortunes—I read people. Like you, right now. You're curious, even if you won't admit it. You want to know how I knew about GreenWave, and you're wondering if I'm right about the rest." She leaned closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Spoiler alert: I am."
Ethan studied her, his gaze sharp enough to cut through the bar's dim lighting. For a moment, neither spoke, the hum of the crowd fading into a charged silence. Luna felt the spark again—that cosmic jolt she'd felt at the press conference, like the stars were nudging them closer. She held his gaze, refusing to blink first.
Finally, he broke the silence. "Alright," he said, leaning back. "Let's say I entertain this. What do you want? Money? A job? Or is this about that stunt you pulled, proposing to me in front of half the tech world?"
Luna laughed, the sound bright and unapologetic. "Oh, the proposal was real. Sort of. There's this thing called the star-crossed pact—old family business, long story. It says we're supposed to get hitched, or bad things happen. To me, to you, to your shiny tech empire. But don't worry, I'm not dragging you to Vegas yet." She winked, enjoying the way his jaw ticked. "Right now, I just want you to listen. I can help you save your company, but you've got to trust me. At least a little."
Ethan's laugh was short, dry. "Trust you? I don't even know you. And I don't believe in pacts or fate or whatever you're selling. But I'll give you this: you've got my attention. Prove you're not just blowing smoke, and maybe we'll talk."
Luna grinned, sliding the tarot card across the table. "Deal. Meet me at my shop tomorrow, noon. I'll show you what I see. No cameras, no tricks. Just you, me, and the stars."
He didn't take the card, but his eyes lingered on it, then on her. "You're playing a dangerous game, Luna Harper."
"Good," she said, standing and smoothing her dress. "I like a challenge." She turned to leave, tossing a smile over her shoulder. "See you tomorrow, Caldwell."
The next morning, Luna woke to a flood of notifications. Samantha Caldwell's Instagram campaign had escalated overnight, with a new post featuring a grainy photo of Luna at The Observatory, captioned: Spotted: Our favorite "psychic" cozying up to Ethan Caldwell. Gold-digger or just desperate? #CaldwellWatch The comments were brutal, but Luna barely skimmed them. She was more focused on the Yelp reviews for Stellar Insights—a mix of glowing praise from new clients and one-star rants from obvious bots, likely Samantha's doing. The woman was relentless, but Luna wasn't fazed. She'd dealt with skeptics and haters her whole life. This was just noise.
She dressed in her favorite outfit—flowy white blouse, high-waisted jeans, and a stack of silver bangles—and headed to Stellar Insights. The shop was already buzzing when she arrived, with Maya behind the counter, fielding a line of walk-ins drawn by the viral drama. "You're a celebrity now," Maya said, tossing her a coffee. "Half these people think you're a witch; the other half think you're a con. Either way, they're paying."
Luna laughed, sipping the coffee. "Let them think what they want. As long as Ethan shows up, I'm good." She glanced at the clock: 11:30 a.m. Thirty minutes until her showdown with the tech king. She busied herself rearranging crystals, her hands moving on autopilot as her mind ran through her plan. The cards had shown her fragments of the betrayal at Caldwell Innovations—a shadowy figure, a whispered deal, a document changing hands. She didn't have names yet, but she had enough to rattle Ethan's cage. If she could convince him to take her seriously, she could dig deeper, maybe even use her gift to pinpoint the traitor.
The door chimed, and Luna's heart skipped. But it wasn't Ethan—it was Madame Celeste, her mother, sweeping in like a vision from a Renaissance painting. Her silver hair was piled high, her kaftan embroidered with tiny stars, and her eyes sparkled with the kind of wisdom that made people nervous. "Luna, darling," she said, kissing her cheek. "You're stirring up quite the cosmic storm."
Luna groaned, but her smile was warm. "Mom, don't start. I'm handling it."
Celeste raised an eyebrow, plucking a tarot card from the deck on the counter. The Star. "Hope and guidance," she said, her voice soft but firm. "But only if you trust your gift. This pact is older than you know, Luna. It's not just about you and that boy—it's about balance. The stars chose you for a reason."
Luna sighed, running a hand through her hair. "I know, I know. Marry the grumpy billionaire, save the world, blah blah. Can we skip the lecture? He's coming here in, like, ten minutes, and I need to focus."
Celeste's lips curved, but she didn't push. "Very well. But listen to the stars, not just your head." She squeezed Luna's hand and glided out, leaving a trail of lavender in her wake.
Ethan pulled up to Stellar Insights in his Tesla, the Melrose Avenue chaos a stark contrast to his sleek office tower. The shop's neon sign buzzed like a beacon, and the sidewalk was crowded with tourists snapping photos of the storefront. He'd seen the Yelp spike—200 reviews overnight, most of them raving about Luna's "uncanny" readings. He didn't buy it, but he couldn't deny her hustle. The woman knew how to turn a scandal into a spotlight.
He stepped inside, the bell chiming above him, and was hit with a wave of sage and jasmine. The shop was smaller than he'd expected, but it felt alive—crystals glinting, star charts glowing under soft lights, a velvet curtain separating the back room. Luna stood behind the counter, her white blouse glowing against her auburn hair, her smile equal parts mischief and confidence. "Right on time," she said, gesturing to a small table. "Welcome to my world, Caldwell."
Ethan didn't smile, but his eyes scanned the room, taking in every detail. "This your headquarters for cosmic conspiracies?" he said, his tone dry. He sat, his suit jacket pulling taut across his shoulders. "Alright, Harper. You've got ten minutes. Impress me."
Luna didn't sit. She leaned against the counter, crossing her arms. "Ten minutes? Generous. Let's make it five." She pulled her tarot deck from her pocket, shuffling with a flourish. "I'm not here to sell you on fate. I'm here to save your company. You've got a traitor—someone in your inner circle. They're leaking your AI specs to TechTrend. I saw it in the cards: a shadow, a deal, a document with your logo. Sound familiar?"
Ethan's face stayed impassive, but his pulse quickened. He'd suspected a leak for weeks—small discrepancies in their secure files, whispers of TechTrend's suspiciously timed moves. But no one had access to those specs except his core team. "You're fishing," he said, his voice low. "Give me a name, or this is just more of your smoke and mirrors."
Luna's eyes glinted, like she'd been waiting for the challenge. She spread three cards on the table: The Devil, The Seven of Swords, The King of Pentacles. "Temptation, deception, and someone with power," she said, tapping each card. "Not a name yet, but I'm close. Let me into your world, Ethan. I can find them. My gift sees what your algorithms can't."
He leaned forward, his voice dropping. "And what's the catch? You want a cut of my company? A ring on your finger? Or is this still about that pact you mentioned?"
Luna laughed, the sound bright and unapologetic. "The pact's real, but I'm not here to trap you. Think of it as… insurance. You help me keep my gift, I help you keep your empire. Win-win." She paused, her smile softening. "Unless you're scared of a little magic."
Ethan's lips twitched, the closest he'd come to a smile. "I'm not scared of you, Luna Harper. But I'm not sold, either. One more chance. Show me something real, or I walk."
Luna nodded, her heart racing. She closed her eyes, letting her intuition take over, and drew one final card: The Tower. "Change is coming," she said, her voice steady. "A crisis, bigger than GreenWave. You'll need me, Ethan. And when you do, I'll be ready."
Meanwhile, across town, Samantha Caldwell sat in her sleek office at Caldwell Innovations, her laptop open to a private chat with a contact labeled "T." She's getting too close, she typed. Push the leak now. Make it look like her. The response came quickly: Done. You sure about this? Samantha's fingers hovered, then typed: Do it. She closed the laptop, her smile cold. Luna Harper was about to learn what happened when you crossed a Caldwell.