The very next week, Luna's career took a turn that would test not only her skills as a lawyer but her courage as a woman.
It started with Kezia.
She was fragile-looking, her eyes hollow from years of pain, yet inside them flickered a fire that refused to die. Kezia walked into Luna's office, holding the hand of her little daughter, Freya, a girl no older than six. Freya's big eyes scanned the law firm with innocent curiosity, her tiny shoes tapping against the polished floor.
"Please… help me," Kezia whispered, her voice trembling but determined.
Luna listened as Kezia told her story: a lifetime of neglect, of being told she didn't deserve anything because she was a daughter, not a son. Her brother Ron had always been given everything, while she was left with scraps. When her husband died, her entire world collapsed. She begged for small jobs, was turned away even from supermarkets. And then, as if fate had mocked her, her mother passed away—leaving behind twenty flats worth millions.
Ten should have gone to Ron. Ten should have gone to Kezia. Enough for her to give Freya the life she never had. But Ron wanted it all.
Tears slipped down Kezia's cheeks as she clutched her daughter close.
"Please, Ms. Valeria… I don't want riches. I only want my daughter to have a roof over her head. A future. I can't lose this fight."
Luna leaned forward, her hand brushing Kezia's gently. "You won't lose. Not while I stand with you. For Freya… we'll fight."
Freya's tiny voice piped up, innocent yet fierce: "Auntie Luna, will you help my mama win?"
Luna's heart melted. She smiled softly. "Yes, sweetheart. I'll help your mama win."
The first trial came. Ron arrived with a team of high-profile lawyers in sharp suits, smug smirks plastered on their faces. They laughed when they saw Luna walk in, alone except for Kezia and Freya sitting anxiously behind her.
But they didn't laugh for long.
Luna's arguments sliced through the courtroom like a blade. She tore apart Ron's claims, exposed his greed, and presented old letters, financial records, and witnesses that proved Kezia had as much right to the property as Ron did.
By the time Luna finished, the judge banged the gavel.
"Ms. Valeria, your client wins the first trial. The case shall continue for property division."
Kezia broke down in tears, hugging Freya tightly.
"Thank you… thank you so much!"
Luna smiled, pride swelling in her chest. For the first time in years, Kezia stood taller, stronger.
But victory came with a price.
That night, as Luna walked out of the courthouse, her phone buzzed. A message.
Unknown Number: You should have stayed out of this case. This is your first and last warning.
Luna's brows furrowed. She brushed it off at first, but her instincts whispered otherwise.
The next morning, she noticed a man leaning against a black car outside her apartment. He was there when she left for work. He was there when she returned. His gaze followed her every step.
Ron had hired men to keep a check on her.
Still, Luna ignored the fear in her gut and pressed forward. She threw herself into preparing for the second trial. But one evening, when she was leaving her office, two figures blocked her path in the parking lot.
"Well, well… Ms. Valeria, the brave lawyer," one sneered, twirling a knife in his hand. "You don't know what you've stepped into. Ron doesn't like losing."
Luna's heart hammered, but her chin lifted. "If Ron has a problem, he can face me in court, not in the shadows."
The thug smirked. "Court won't protect you when you're dead."
Before Luna could react, a shadow moved—fast, fierce.
Alex.
He grabbed the man's wrist, twisting it until the knife clattered to the floor. His other hand shoved the second attacker against the wall, knocking the wind out of him.
"Touch her again," Alex growled, voice cold as steel, "and you'll regret being born."
The men scrambled away, terrified.
Luna stood frozen, files clutched to her chest, her breathing uneven.
"Are you hurt?" Alex asked softly, stepping closer, concern etched across his face.
Luna wanted to shout, to tell him to leave her alone. She wanted to demand why he was always there, why he followed her like a shadow. But when she met his eyes, the words melted. His gaze was raw, burning with something that wasn't just duty.
"No… I'm fine," she whispered, though her knees trembled.
Alex wanted to explain, wanted to tell her that he hadn't come from nowhere—he had left Thailand, uprooted everything, to be here in New York, only to protect her. But as always, the words stuck in his throat.
"Stay careful, Luna," he finally said, his voice rough. "You have no idea how dangerous this case can get."
She turned her face away, hiding the way her chest tightened.
"I don't need you to save me, Alex. I can fight my own battles."
But later that night, as she tucked away Freya's small drawing (a crayon picture the girl had given her after the trial), Luna whispered into the silence:
Maybe the dangerous Is near