When Luna's Bugatti crossed the armored gates of the Imperial Complex, House N1. The layers of holographic security scanned the vehicle without hurry, as they always did with any visitor… but something different happened.
As soon as the main hologram identified Luna's face, a soft digital voice echoed: "Welcome, Miss Malroth. Access authorized by direct permission of Matthew Solarius."
Luna froze for a second. "He... added me?"
Outside, her lips only formed a slight smile.
But inside, an emotional explosion shook every corner of her chest. "So it's true… he loves me. Even if he still doesn't know how to say it."
She moved forward with the car, parking in front of the colossal mansion. The black columns and the vertical garden that adorned the façade looked even more imposing at night, but Luna barely noticed the details.
The front door opened automatically. The mansion's interior was silent like a sacred cathedral. Not even the sounds of the internal air circulation system seemed to exist.
"Matthew?" she called softly, her voice echoing through the wide marble corridors and translucent windows.
Nothing. Only the sound of her own steps.
She walked through the first floor, where the immense living room was, the gourmet kitchen and a library that looked like it came out of a movie.
"Of course he's not here. He can barely stand, he probably fell straight into bed…"
Climbing the curved stairs, Luna passed closed doors, impeccable rooms, and long silent corridors, until, turning right, she saw a door ajar.
The master bedroom.
Luna pushed it gently, as if fearing to wake something sacred. And there, among the pure satin sheets and pillows visibly little used, was Matthew, lying on his side, sleeping deeply.
His hair was a little messy, the dark circles accentuated made his face look even more exhausted but his chest rose and fell calmly, as if he had finally allowed himself some true rest.
Luna leaned against the door, watching silently. The pain she felt in her chest was not small. "You... only went through this because you helped Tycoon. Me."
She approached slowly, sitting on the edge of the bed. She extended her hand carefully, her fingers stroking his brown hair tenderly.
"I'm sorry... for all this. I should have protected you too."
Matthew moved slightly, but did not wake. He was in a deep sleep, like someone who finally found peace.
Luna smiled lightly, leaning in to leave a tender kiss on his forehead. "You are the strongest man I know, Matthew Solarius. And yet, if you were only mine, I would hide you from the whole world."
Carefully, she got up and left the room.
In the kitchen, the assistant robots automatically offered the preparation system, but Luna refused.
"Not today. Today I'll do it myself."
She prepared a simple meal, but full of affection. It was the type of light food, but nutritious — perfect for someone exhausted.
She put the meal on a thermal tray with anti-fall support and returned upstairs. Upon arriving, she noticed Matthew was still sleeping, showing no sign of waking up so early.
Sighing, Luna left the tray on the side table and then, without further delay, climbed into the bed carefully, sliding under the sheets with feline delicacy.
She turned to the side and searched for his arm, wrapping it with her own body as if it were her personal blanket. Matthew's warmth enveloped her like a mantle of emotional security.
"You've always been my safe place, even when I pretended to be yours."
She rested her face on his shoulder and closed her eyes.
There, in the silence of the room, without cameras, without holographic screens, without the weight of a billion-dollar company or the cold war of e-sports, Luna Malroth was just a girl in love with the only man who made her heart beat wrong.
And with one last sigh of contentment… she also fell asleep.
The next day, the sun passed through the translucent curtains of the mansion, bathing the master bedroom in a soft golden light. The climate control system kept the perfect temperature and in that almost sacred silence, Matthew slowly opened his eyes.
Unlike the last few months, he didn't wake up with a headache, back stress, or the notification of 47 consecutive meetings.
...He felt… good. Renewed.
Or almost.
There was something on top of him.
Heavy. Too cozy.
"Hm...?" He blinked, trying to adjust his vision.
When he looked down, he saw a cascade of golden hair spread across his chest and neck like a magical creature nestled there. It was as if a blonde octopus had decided to make him an official pillow.
"...Luna."
A calm and inevitably silly smile formed on his lips. His arms moved instinctively, wrapping the figure curled on him.
She looked so comfortable, so absurdly rooted in his warmth, that she looked like a real kitten, one of those that purr just by breathing.
Matthew leaned in and left a light kiss on her head, right between the soft strands that exhaled a slightly sweet perfume.
Luna moved minimally with the gesture, letting out a slight indecipherable murmur... and snuggling even deeper into his chest.
Matthew sighed, enchanted. "Little sleepyhead… If it depends on you, humanity will miss breakfast time."
With a soul light as he hadn't felt in a long time, he closed his eyes once again and went back to sleep, with the feeling that the world finally made sense.
Hours later, a soft beep from the domestic system warned that it was almost noon.
Matthew opened his eyes slowly, now more aware of himself, and looked at the same view as before: Luna Malroth, sleeping clinging to him as if the bed was him.
But this time, he knew… he needed to get up.
Only he had a small problem.
She wouldn't let him.
"Luna…"
Nothing.
"Wake up, sleepyhead."
Silence.
Matthew moved his arm slightly and she squeezed it tighter like an octopus.
"...Ok. New strategy."
He slid his fingers down her back, making subtle and controlled tickles.
Luna shivered slightly, burying her face even more in his neck.
"Mmmhhhmm... let me die in peace, biological blanket..." she murmured, almost dreaming.
"You know that's emotional kidnapping, right?" Matthew smiled, amused.
She grumbled in an almost forgotten language — something between cursed Latin and the desperation of someone who doesn't want to get out of bed no matter what.
He held back laughter and tried to sit up.
She followed the movement… still clinging.
"Luna. Wake up. I swear I'll call reinforcements."
"I... am... the reinforcement..." she murmured, finally opening one lazy eye.
Matthew raised an eyebrow. "Oh yeah?"
She yawned theatrically, rubbing her face on his arm as if it were her favorite dragon feather pillow. After a while, she blinked slowly, confused, until she realized exactly where she was.
And more importantly: with whom.
"...You woke up?" she asked, with a hoarse and sleepy voice, as if he were the intruder.
"I woke up. Twice. You've dominated me for hours straight. I'm almost asking for alimony."
She laughed weakly, sitting up slowly and fixing her tangled hair. "You should thank me. I'm a luxury blanket."
"Luxury blanket that snores lightly."
"Lies! I snore?"
"No. But you bit my shoulder in your sleep."
"Oh, that's possible. I dream I'm biting sweets sometimes."
Matthew let out a genuine laugh. "You're impossible."
"And irresistible." she finished with a victorious and still messy smile.
After a little war over who would get up first, Luna finally went to the bathroom dragging her feet, and Matthew went downstairs to check the house systems.
He said nothing, but in his chest was a peace he hadn't felt in a long time.
Minutes later, the stairs creaked lightly under barefoot steps.
Luna came down slowly, hair still a little damp from the shower, sleepy eyes but with that shine only she carried. She wore a huge dress shirt — clearly Matthew's — that almost reached her knees and shorts that only existed for formality. The piece was more hidden than the Lancaster Clan's intentions.
"You're dressed…" Matthew began seeing her arrive.
"...like your girlfriend?" she finished with a sharp little smile, pulling the collar of his shirt toward her and throwing herself on the couch as if she owned the house. And she did.
Matthew laughed through his nose, leaning on the kitchen counter. "I was going to say like a luxury gremlin, but your version works too."
Luna pretended to be offended, but clearly was having fun. "You didn't complain about my nighttime cuteness clinging to you like a hungry koala."
"I don't complain. I'm just trying to understand when my shirt became your official pajamas."
"Since the moment you slept with the shirt button open." she retorted, smiling with impudence.
Matthew raised an eyebrow and walked to the kitchen, opening the fridge with that tired diplomat look but with his shoulders a little lighter.
"You mentioned something about dinner last night?"
Luna yawned and stretched like a spoiled cat. "I cooked last night, but you were sleeping like a sexy corpse, so I ate alone… I mean, almost ate, I ended up sleeping too. It's in the fridge. It must have turned into solid ice."
Matthew laughed and carefully took the trays. "Let's make something new. Can you help me?"
Luna widened her eyes. "What? You cook?"
"Cooking is one of the prerequisites for dealing with hungry diplomats at three in the morning in intercontinental meetings."
"Hmm… sexy."
"I know." he answered, winking.
Wait.
He winked.
Luna froze for two seconds, a mental file locked in "this man finally learned how to flirt?"
She got up slowly and went to the kitchen, watching what he did like someone evaluating a modern art exhibition.
"Ok. Who are you and what did you do with my pure, innocent, and socially awkward Matthew?"
Matthew was cutting vegetables calmly, but there was a half-smile that gave him away. "Maybe diplomatic trips taught me more than just geopolitics."
"I don't know what happened, but I'm in favor. I approve. I sign off. I want the full package."
"Includes daily flirting, bad jokes, and improvised breakfasts."
"Highly approved."
Luna started stirring the pot with him and together they worked in an almost unreal domestic harmony for two absurdly busy executives.
But between stirring the rice and adding spices, Luna started noticing more things.
Matthew, once awkward with words, now made sharp comments. And worse: he knew the impact he caused.
"You're really different." she commented, crossing her arms, leaning on the counter.
"Good or bad?"
"Depends."
"On what?"
"If you keep like this... it might be that I have to drag you to the altar before another tries."
Matthew dropped the spoon for a second and looked at her. In the eyes. "I don't think any other has the slightest chance… You literally invaded my house, my bed, and now you're using my shirt as a conquest armor."
Luna blushed. Not enough to confess, but enough to change the subject grabbing the plates strongly.
"I-I invaded with class, ok? Your house security recognized me. And that's practically an official invitation."
Matthew approached, grabbing the cutlery behind her, but his face got very close to hers. "What if I told you I programmed my system to accept only you? Only your image and your name?"
"I…"
"...would you be even more convinced?"
"No. I would marry you on the spot."
They looked at each other, the smell of the food cooking in the background, and something at that instant froze time — not from nervousness, but from the absurd comfort they felt in each other.
"You're not joking, right?" Matthew whispered.
"I never joke when it involves our future last name." Luna answered seriously.
Matthew laughed, resting his forehead on hers for a second. "Then you already know... you won't be able to run from me. Nor from my kitchen."
"Perfect." Luna whispered, smiling. — "Just promise me you'll keep being like this… sexy, mature, and completely in love with me."
"Deal. But only if you keep sleeping stuck to me like a golden-haired octopus."
"You liked it, didn't you?"
"It's addictive."
And then, as if they had sealed something invisible, they both smiled and finished preparing lunch.
There was no rush.
Nor pressure.
Nor mask.
Just the two of them… and the certainty that, for the first time in a long time, they were where they belonged.
Together.
A soft breeze blew through the private gardens of the mansion, making the leaves dance to the sound of the wind. The flowers, cared for by state-of-the-art botanical robots, were in full bloom, spreading a sweet aroma that competed with Luna's delicate perfume.
"Order confirmed. Taking lunch to the east garden table." The neutral voice of the domestic robots echoed through the mansion, soon followed by a robotic procession carrying trays covered with polished silver lids.
Luna and Matthew walked slowly to a white table made of gleaming marble by the edge of a small artificial lake. A tree with leaves that cast a welcoming shade over the two.
"You really automated paradise." commented Matthew, pulling the chair for Luna, who sat down with casual elegance, crossing her bare legs.
"After living with robots that know how to make truffle mushroom soufflé better than French chefs… it's hard to go back." she laughed, serving fruit juice carved into shiny cubes by one of the robots.
While eating, Luna nibbling a salad of genetically blue leaves and Matthew tasting a marbled meat from a gourmet laboratory, he finally commented.
"On the trips I took through the continents, one thing caught my attention in absolutely every place… Tycoon."
Luna raised her eyebrows. "I hope it's something good."
"You have no idea. It was... absurd. In every country I went to, there were newly opened Tycoon stores. But they weren't ordinary stores… they were like... mini empires." Matthew said, gesturing with the fork. "Entire shopping centers with 15 floors, otherworldly architecture, attendants with uniforms that seemed to come out of luxury science fiction movies. Five-star stores just to sell Tycoon things."
Luna let out a hearty laugh, crossing her arms. "We spent some money to make that happen."
"Some?" Matthew laughed. "You basically rebuilt the concept of global luxury retail."
"Hey, impressing a prince from one of the richest countries in the world was the sign it worked." she shrugged with that casual and lethal charm that made CEOs tremble and investors cry with joy.
"I was so impacted that..." he hesitated, taking a sip of juice. "I changed my personal belongings. Now I only wear Tycoon."
Luna stopped, holding the fork in the air. She stared at him as if he had just said he became vegan. "You what?"
"Yes. Clothes, accessories… I even bought those graphene underwear with programmable scent."
"Oh no. You fell for Victória's marketing." Luna covered her mouth, laughing.
"Worse… I felt elegant." said Matthew, looking at his own shirt with pride. "And more… I started using that LUX facial mask."
Luna's eyes widened. Then she frowned, analyzing his face like a skincare detective.
"Hmmm… strange."
"What?"
"I didn't notice any difference. But maybe it's because your skin was always perfect. That's even annoying." she grumbled, resting her chin on her hand and watching him with half-closed eyes.
"I might have gained a slight glow."
"Glow... or is it just the sun's reflection on you?" she answered mockingly.
"Or maybe it's the glow of love." he added, with a cheesy smile.
Luna's eyes widened again, as if she didn't recognize that flirtatious Matthew. "You're really learning to flirt... it's scaring me."
"Maybe I'm studying your own books."
"What books?"
"Your eyes."
"Ok, that was cheesy. But acceptable." she rolled her eyes, blushing.
Lunch continued with light exchanges and laughter, dishes being collected by sneaky robots, while birds singing in harmonic scale filled the air with background melodies.
"But seriously," said Matthew, now more sober. "Tycoon is changing the world. You created an empire. And it all started with you... wanting to avoid boredom and pretending to hate working."
Luna smiled, looking at the sky. "Who would've thought my laziness would be the engine of the corporate revolution?"
"And now we have domestic robots that make mousse better than French chefs and stores that make Versailles look like a little fair."
"And a boyfriend who finally learned to hit on me." she finished, winking.
"Hey, I'm still in training."
"Then congratulations. You're already approved for the advanced module."
They laughed.
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