Alpha's Discarded Luna (Talia) novel Chapter 22

Chapter 22

Robin’s POV

She shoves me toward Jacob. “Take him! Now!”

I struggle. “No! Lia!” I won’t leave her. Not when they’re throwing things, their faces ugly with hate.

But she looks at me, her eyes begging. “I can’t protect you if you stay!”

The truth hits me like one of those rotten eggs. I’m just a kid. I’m in the way. If not for me, she would have dodged.

I stop fighting. Jacob bundles me into the car. The door slams, locking me in safety and her in danger.

As the car pulls away, I see the last missile hit. I see her stumble.

My hands are shaking, but they’re steady enough. I pull out my phone. I hit the speed dial.

It rings once. Twice.

He picks up. “Robin. Report.”

“Dad! It’s time. Our damsel is in distress. Go be the hero she

deserves.”

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Talia’s POV

Blood drips into my eye, warm and sticky. I wipe at it with the back of a filthy hand, smearing egg yolk and tomato pulp. I am a carnival of humiliation.

And he asks if I’ve learned my lesson.

A laugh bubbles up from some raw, broken place inside me. It sounds wild, even to my own ears.

Aires frowns, his perfect face a mask of irritation. “What is so funny?”

“I’m laughing at the waste,” I say, my voice startlingly calm. “Five years. All of it. For this.” I gesture at my own ruined state. “A stranger would ask if I’m okay. You ask if I’m sorry.”

He doesn’t deny it. His silence is an answer.

“Is this your grand punishment, Aires?” I press, taking a step toward the car. The world tilts a little, but I lock my knees. “Unleash the internet mob? Send your fangirls with their grocery store ammunition? Was Nick your messenger?”

His jaw tightens. “You think I orchestrated this… spectacle?”

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Chapter 22

threat. Connect the dots, Alpha.” The title is pure acid. “If your precious Imema’s suffering is so unbearable, divorce me. Set her free. Set me free.”

Anger flashes in his eyes, bright and hot. “For the last time, my relationship with Imema is not a romance! It is a debt! Why can’t you understand that?”

I look at him, this man who shares my child, who has shared my bed, and I see a profound, impenetrable stranger. “Then consider the debt paid,” I say, my voice dropping to a whisper. “By my humiliation. But if you won’t end it, Aires, I will make every single one of her days a living hell. I have nothing left to lose.”

His gaze turns arctic. “So. You will not yield.”

“No.”

He lets out a short, angry laugh. “Fine. I hope your pride keeps you very, very warm.”

The window glides up, sealing him away. The car pulls from the curb, leaving me standing alone in the reeking aftermath.

Another day passes. The digital storm doesn’t fade; it grows. Angs’s silence is a megaphone for the public’s verdict He 16:28

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Chapter 22

doesn’t defend me. He doesn’t deny. Ifis indifference convicts me more than any accusation.

Then, Imema posts.

・

My illness is my own. The incident at the lake was an accident. Ms. Perseus and I have reconciled. Please, let the past rest.

The internet explodes. Her ‘gracious’ tweet confirms everything. She admitted she pushed her! She’s forgiving her! What an angel!

They ignore the fact that Aires and I were both single when we met. That his breakup with Imema happened months before that party. Her carefully worded ‘past’ erases timelines and paints me as an eternal homewrecker.

Then, the scandal with Rafael surfaces. Pictures of us having dinner, talking. The narrative twists: The adulterous wife and her musician lover.

It’s a coordinated character assassination. And it works.

The final blow comes mid-morning. A knock on my door. Two uniformed officers.

“Ms. Perseus. You are under investigation for the attempted murder of Imema Volkov. Please come with us.”

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The station is a blur of harsh lights and cold voices. The interrogation room smells of stale coffee and despair. They question me for hours. Did you push her? Did you wish her harm? Did you want her dead?

I answer with the truth. It sounds feeble, “It was an accident. I never touched her on the street.”

They have no physical evidence. Just the court of public opinion screaming for my head.

As evening bleeds into night, they seem ready to release me. I’m exhausted, hollowed out.

Then, a young officer hurries in, whispering to the detective. The detective’s eyes snap to me.

“Ms. Perseus. It seems we have an eyewitness. Your statement is now in direct contradiction. We’ll need to keep you here for further questioning.”

An eyewitness. Now. After a full day of nothing.

The cold that hits me isn’t from the room’s AC. It’s the deep, penetrating chill of a trap snapping shut. Someone knows I’m here. Someone is making sure I don’t walk out. Aires? Imema? Nick? It doesn’t matter. The intent is the same: bury me.

May I know who this witness is?” My voice is steady,ja miracleg

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“For their protection, that information is confidential. You can call a lawyer. Or someone to post bail,”

My mind races. Rafael is tainted by association now. Electra is too volatile; she’d storm in here and make it worse. Aires… Aires is waiting for me to break. To call him. To beg.

A bitter smile touches my lips. I lower my head. “I understand.”

The officer moves to guide me to a holding cell. This is it. The final box they’ve built for me.

“Ms. Perseus.”

The voice is deep, smooth as aged whiskey, and utterly unfamiliar. I look up.

as a

Raymond Capaldi stands in the doorway of the precinct. He’s in a crisp white shirt, sleeves rolled up, looking as out of place panther in a kennel. A faint, easy smile plays on his lips, but his golden eyes are sharp, missing nothing.

“Mr. Capaldi?” Shock cuts through the numbness. “You’re… you’re supposed to be away until the weekend.”

He strolls forward, his presence somehow silencing the room’s low hum. “Robin was concerned. He said you’d run into some… trouble.” His gaze flicks over me, taking in my disheveled state,

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the fading bruise on my temple, the stark fear I can’t fully hide.

The mention of Robin brings a sudden, unexpected pang. That little boy, calling, checking on me. While my own family vanished.

Raymond turns to the detective, his smile not reaching his eyes. “Officer. I believe Ms. Perseus’s bail has been processed. She’s free to go with me.”

The detective blinks, checks a tablet, and nods stiffly. “It seems

so.”

Raymond looks back at me, offering his arm not as a romantic gesture, but as a simple, solid anchor. “Shall we? It’s rather windy in here.”

I stare at him, at this improbable rescue arriving at the eleventh hour. I have no idea why he’s here, what he wants, what the cost

will be.

he alternative is a cold cell and a future decided by my

slow, shaky breath. I place my hand on his arm.

hank you,” I whisper.

Megust nods, and leads me out of the darkness.

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<Alpha’s Discarded Luria