CHAPTER 38 Bitter Aftertaste
The effect was slow, then sudden.
First, a warmth spreading through Luna's limbs. Pleasant, like good whiskey. Then her head began to swim, the garden tilting slightly.
"Luna?" Zara's voice sounded far away. "You okay?"
"Just… dizzy." She reached for a table to steady herself. "Hot."
Zara's eyes narrowed. She snatched the glass from Luna's hand, sniffed it again, then tasted a drop. Her face went pale. "Jett. What did you do?"
Jett backed away, his hands up. "I didn't… they made me…"
"Who made you?" Zara's voice was a whip-crack.
But Luna was losing focus. The world blurred at the edges. Colors bled together. She felt hands on her—not Zara's. Rough, unfamiliar.
"Time to go, Mrs. Wǎngshā," a man's voice growled in her ear.
"Get your hands off her!" Zara moved, but two more men stepped between them.
Jett stood frozen, tears streaming down his face. "I'm sorry. They have my studio. All my work…"
"You bastard." Zara pulled out her phone, thumb already dialing. "Leo! They're taking her! It's a setup! Jett, you bastard—"
A hand slapped the phone from her grip. Another grabbed Luna, dragging her toward a waiting car.
The last thing Luna saw before darkness swallowed her was Jett's broken face, mouthing I'm sorry.