The Alpha's Mafia Luna novel Chapter 18

Midnight Wolves

Chapter 18

“Rise and shine, Luna!” Mira’s sing–song voice pierced through my

dream like a needle popping a balloon.

I groaned, dragging the blanket over my head. “What time is it?”

“Almost noon,” she chirped, yanking the covers off me with zero mercy. “Damian said to have you ready by six. You two are attending some elite gala tonight. Fancy stuff. Think wine, diamonds, danger.”

I blinked, sitting up slowly. “Gala?”

She nodded, already opening the closet. “Yes, ma’am. And not just any gala–this one’s crawling with the kind of men who run countries behind curtains. Human Mafia, werewolf families… it’s basically a

power buffet.”

“And Damian just–what–signed me up?”

“You’re his Luna. His other half. Of course, you’re going. Besides…” Mira pulled out a midnight–black gown with a plunging back, “…you’ll

be the most talked about woman in the room.”

“I’m already nervous.‘

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“You should be,” she winked. “But don’t worry. Damian said nothing

touches you.”

That was supposed to be reassuring. Somehow, it wasn’t.

Later That Day

The hours crawled. Damian hadn’t returned since sunrise, and Mira

had already curled my hair, painted my lips, and stuffed me into a

tight black dress that screamed wealth and silent warning. I kept

pacing around the massive room, sipping on espresso like it would

stop my nerves from bubbling.

Still no text. No call.

What if I messed this up? What if I stood there like a decorative pet

beside him?

“You’ll be fine,” Mira said from the couch, flipping through some fashion magazine. “Just don’t speak unless spoken to, don’t smile too

much, and don’t look at anyone like you’re impressed.”

I gave her a look. “So basically, be Damian Wolfe.”

She smirked. “Exactly.”

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6:42 PM – Arrival at the Gala

The moment we stepped out of the car, the world hushed.

We hadn’t even reached the marble steps when heads began to turn.

The grand entrance of the villa–turned–venue was bathed in golden

light. Classical music floated from within. And yet… the energy

wasn’t soft. It was sharp. Heavy. Laced with danger.

Damian stood tall beside me in a custom black tux, his hand resting

lightly on the small of my back. I could feel the weight of his name

rippling through the crowd.

“Is that-?”

“Wolfe’s here.”

“And the Luna…”

“She’s… different.”

We walked slowly, deliberately. Like royalty. No one dared stop us, but

many looked. Eyes darted toward me–not with disrespect, but

curiosity. I wasn’t from their world. And I knew they were trying to

place me.

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Inside, the ballroom glimmered with wealth. Gold chandeliers, crystal

glasses, bodies dressed in the kind of fashion that didn’t have price

tags.

“Alpha Wolfe,” a slick–haired man greeted as we entered. “An honor.

It’s been years.”

Damian nodded once. “Lorenzo.”

“And this…” The man’s eyes flicked to me. “The new Luna?”

I met his gaze evenly. “Selene Wolfe.”

Something about the way I said his name–Wolfe–made him pause.

“Well,” he smiled tightly, “Italy’s not ready.”

We moved deeper into the crowd. Everyone we passed shifted subtly-

just an inch. As if their bodies instinctively knew to give Damian

Wolfe space.

I was silent, letting Damian lead. Observing. Learning.

Werewolves and humans mingled in layers. The humans smiled,

unaware of the beasts lurking behind polite laughter and polished

suits.

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“Don’t drink anything,” Damian said under his breath as a tray

passed. “Don’t wander. Stay close.”

I nodded.

“Good girl.”

His words were low, possessive, and it took everything in me not to

shiver.

The Interrogation Room

An hour in, the music quieted. Conversations dulled. A group of men

in black escorted someone into the center of the ballroom.

He was bloodied. Knees scraped. Face swollen. A traitor.

“Vasily Petrov,” a voice announced. “Accused of selling classified

shipment routes to external buyers.”

A chill spread through the room.

I stood at Damian’s side as the man was forced to his knees. He was

shaking.

“I didn’t mean to,” he begged. “They offered me money–my family-”

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“You cost us five lives,” another man growled. “You don’t speak

again.”

The silence was deadly. Damian stepped forward. The man didn’t

even beg a second time.

One shot.

Clean. Cold. Swift.

My heart stuttered in my chest, but I didn’t flinch. I couldn’t. Not

here. Not now. My fingers stayed laced in front of me, my face blank.

But inside?

I was crumbling.

The Powder Room

“I’ll be back,” I whispered, excusing myself.

No one questioned me. Damian’s eyes lingered on me as I slipped

away.

The powder room was empty. Ornate. I leaned over the sink, inhaling

deeply.

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Chapter 18

Then I heard the door creak.

Before I could turn, someone pressed against me.

“Well, well… Wolfe’s Luna. What a delicious surprise.”

He was short. Slippery. Stinking of cologne and something worse. His

hand slid toward my thigh and I froze.

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