Alpha's Discarded Luna (Talia) novel Chapter 23

Chapter 23

Aires’ POV

My Beta, Leo, finds me in my office… but I’m not working.

Instead, my time is being occupied in staring at the wall screen, where the news replays the scene outside her apartment on a loop. Talia, covered in filth and blood stands defiantly in the middle of a squalling mob.

She looks like a drowned bird, holding on to her dignity remarkably well.

Leo clears his throat, his eyes darting away from the screen. “Alpha, the police took her in for questioning this morning. There’s an eyewitness. If no one posts bail…”

“When was she taken!” My voice is sharper than I intend.

“Hours ago.”

I look at my silent phone on the desk, which has no calls, no pleading texts… Nothing from her.

So she would rather be stoned in the street, hauled into a human police station, than pick up the phone and admit she needs me.

Neold fury tightens my chest. She wants to be so strong? So16:28

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independent?

“Fine,” I snap, turning my back on the screen. “Let her be tough and let her handle it herself. Don’t interfere.”

Let her sit in that cold room and finally understand the consequence of defying her Alpha.

Talia’s POV

Night has fallen by the time we step out of the police station. The air is cool, a relief after the stale, fluorescent hell inside.

I look at Raymond Capaldi, this man who is a complete mystery. “Thank you, Mr. Capaldi.”

He shrugs, casually. “Robin is fond of you. Consider this an employee benefit.” He pauses, then adds, “Do you need me to cool down the news? The fake outrage is becoming a little

lious.”

k, thrown. “You can do that?”

raises a brow. “Don’t you trust me?”

“It’s not about trust,” I say carefully. “You know who I am. My… husband… the Perseus family. They have a long reach in this city. I doubt many can countermand their will.”

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Chapter 23

He looks genuinely surprised for a second. “Do you believe Aires is behind this media circus?”

“Who else?” The words are bitter on my tongue.

He studies me, a flicker of something unreadable in his golden eyes. It feels like he’s recalculating. “Of course, I can handle it. But if you need something else, just name it.”

An idea, sharp and sudden, forms in my mind. A better play than just silencing the noise. I lean closer, lowering my voice to a whisper. I tell him what I need.

He listens, and his smile widens into something real, almost admiring. “Clever. Far more effective than playing defense. Consider it done.”

“Thank you, truly.”

“Thank me by taking good care of my son,” he says, his tone

ing no doubt it’s a command.

s not a burden. Caring for Robin is the only clear, ng in my life right now.

ecks his watch. “I flew in directly. I haven’t eaten. Join

just sprang me from jail. I can’t refuse. “Of course, My treat

Chapter 23

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The meal is quiet, surprisingly comfortable. He doesn’t pry or ask any questions about the arrest.

For an hour, the world outside my bubble ceases to exist.

Afterwards, I excuse myself to use the restroom and settle the bill discreetly, knowing that Raymond might try to pay the bill as a gentlemanly favour.

But the moment I turn to head back, a blinding flash of white light stuns me on the spot.

A swarm of bodies rush from the shadows of the restaurant’s foyer, thrusting microphones in my face.

“Ms. Perseus! Who is the man you’re with? Is he another one in your long list of lovers?”

“Is it true that you and Rafael Kinston are having an affair?”

“As the woman who destroyed Aires Perseus and Imema Volkov, do you feel any shame?”

“We heard you were arrested for attempted murder this morning! Is that true?”

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They form a tight, suffocating circle. I’m trapped. My heart hammers against my ribs.

l address everything at a press conference soon,” I say, my e strained but firm. “Please, let me through.”

They don’t move. The jabs my ribs. Some exhaustion from

the thrown bot

claustrophob

I try to

and g

35

tion!”

A

louder, pushing closer. An elbow

s on my foot. I lose a shoe. The gation, the lingering headache from shes down. A wave of nausea and

to drown me.

but they are a wall of self-righteousness

E

୮

merge into a demonic roar. A hard shove from nds me sprawling to the cold marble floor. The impact e wind from me.

to push mys

amatically. “She

The Lun

unison, capturing my

y, from every angle. I am drowning

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Chapter 23

Then, a new sound cuts through the chaos. A voice, deep and cold as a winter river, rings with absolute authority.

“You. Move. Now.”

The cacophony stutters. Heads turn.

Raymond Capaldi stands at the edge of the circle. He wasn’t there a moment ago. He just… is. His presence is a physical force.

He walks through the parted reporters as if they are mere curtains. His gaze finds me on the floor, takes in my missing shoe, the panic on my face. His eyes sharpen, turning glacial.

He doesn’t ask if I’m okay. He sees I’m not. “We’re going to the hospital,” he states, bending to help me up. His hand is firm, steadying.

The reporters, recovering, swarm him instead. But their energy is different. Hesitant. The man radiating from him is not that of a victim or a scandalous side-piece. It’s the aura of someone who could end them with a phone call.

“Sir! What is your relationship with Ms. Perseus?”

One brave journalist dares first, thrusting a recorder toward

him.

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“Do you know how many affairs she’s involved in?”

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