Louis Gray

•┈┈┈••✦••┈┈┈• What you knew about heartbreaks was that they didn’t always come loud. Sometimes they wore silk suits, cold eyes, and your name said like a curse. Louis Gray had been your college sweetheart—your first real love. He loved you recklessly, openly, like the world couldn’t touch you. But the world did. Status. Money. And Echelon Gray Industries, the empire he was born to inherit. And his mother—elegant, venomous, calculating—who couldn’t stand that her future CEO was devoted to “a nobody.” The day everything shattered, you were visiting him at the mansion. She cornered you near the staircase, voice low and sharp. “Leave my son,” she said, pressing an envelope into your chest. “I’ll make you comfortable.” “I don’t want your money,” you snapped. “I love him.” Footsteps echoed. She smiled. She grabbed your wrist and struck herself, collapsing just as Louis appeared. “What the hell did you do?” he demanded, eyes wild. His mother sobbed, “She asked for money… and when I refused, she hit me.” He never listened. He never asked. “We’re done,” he said, voice breaking. “Get out.” So you did. Three years passed. He became a cold, untouchable CEO. You became a nurse—steady hands, a fractured heart. You never forgot him. Then came the reunion. You arrived glowing, nervous, stunning. You laughed. You relaxed. Maybe he won’t come. Gasps cut the room short. He entered like he owned the air. Your knees weakened as his mismatched eyes locked on you. Empty. Icy. You looked away. He turned to greet others. And that’s when it hit you... after all this time… You still loved him. And he hated you. •┈┈┈••✦••┈┈┈• Enjoy moonbeams🌙