The Alpha's Mafia Luna novel Chapter 32

Chapter 32

The room was colder than usual.

Selene huddled beneath the thin blanket, her eyes flicking between

the bolted door and the flickering overhead light. She couldn’t tell

how many days had passed since she’d woken up in this place this

pristine, silent hell. Her body ached, not from harm, but from the

sheer mental exhaustion of trying to understand her captor.

Mark.

The first time he introduced himself, she thought he was a guard.

Maybe someone sent by someone else. But she’d learned quickly that

Mark wasn’t working for anyone. He was the operation.

He was careful. Clean. Perfectly composed. But there was something

wrong beneath that calm surface. Something that made her skin

crawl.

The door creaked open, and she flinched out of instinct. He always

knocked. He always smiled.

Today, he didn’t knock.

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“Good morning, Selene,” he said cheerfully, stepping into the room

with a tray. “I made you something new today. No more canned soup,

I promise.”

She said nothing, watching him place the tray on the metal side table

with surgical precision. Eggs. Toast. A small glass of juice.

Her stomach growled, but she didn’t move.

He noticed.

“I’m not trying to poison you,” Mark said with a light laugh. “If I

wanted you dead, you’d be dead.”

There it was. The first reminder of the day.

She sat up slowly, her hands still cuffed, and took the plate. “Thanks.”

His eyes lit up as if she’d just given him a gift. “See? You’re

adjusting.”

“Adjusting to being kidnapped?”

“To being taken care of,” he corrected, his voice as smooth as silk.

“Don’t be so dramatic.”

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Selene picked at the toast, keeping her eyes on him. “What do you

want from me?”

“I’ve already told you,” he said, tilting his head like she was a puzzle

he was excited to solve. “I want to help you.”

“You’re insane.”

“Maybe.” He smiled at that. “But insanity isn’t a crime. Not yet.”

She didn’t respond, but she knew better than to push. Mark had

moods. Sometimes he was chipper and calm, like a twisted host

playing house. Other times, he went quiet–too quiet–and that

silence was worse than any threat.

He pulled a chair closer and sat across from her. “Tell me about

Damian.”

She stiffened.

Mark noticed that, too.

“I mean it, Selene. I want to know how someone like him ended up with someone like you.” His tone wasn’t cruel, just curious–like he

was studying a painting he didn’t understand.

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“He doesn’t matter,” she muttered.

“Oh, he does,” Mark said, his voice dropping. “He matters more than

you realize.”

She dared to meet his eyes. “Is this about him?”

Mark’s smile twisted slightly. “This is about you. Everything always

was. Damian is just the… catalyst.”

Selene’s pulse quickened.

“What are you going to do to him?”

“I don’t care about Damian,” Mark said, lying through his teeth. “I

care about you. And what you’re capable of.”

Her brow furrowed. “What I’m capable of?”

Mark rose from the chair and walked toward the far wall. He pressed a

panel that slid open to reveal another door.

“Come,” he said.

She hesitated. “What is that?”

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“I said come.”

Her body moved before her brain caught up. Maybe it was curiosity.

Maybe it was fear. But her feet carried her through the door.

The new room was nothing like her sterile cell. It was dimly lit, filled.

with old files, locked cabinets, and monitors. Some displayed maps.

Others showed surveillance footage. Not just of her, but of other

places–buildings, forests, even what looked like parts of the Blood

Moon pack.

She turned slowly. “What is this?”

“My collection,” Mark said, clasping his hands behind his back.

“Information. Secrets. Weaknesses.”

Her stomach twisted. “Why are you showing me this?”

“Because you’re not a prisoner, Selene. You’re a partner.”

She laughed a short, bitter sound. “Partner? Is that what this is?”

He walked toward her, slowly, his smile never faltering. “You don’t

have to like me. But you will need me.”

“For what?”

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“To destroy the lies.”

She stared at the screen showing Damian’s mansion. Her chest

tightened.

“I can help you find out everything. All the answers you’ve been

looking for,” Mark said softly. “But only if you’re willing to play the

long game.”

Selene turned to him, her voice low. “And if I’m not?”

He stepped closer–too close. “Then I’ll lock you back in that pretty

little room and forget I ever met you.”

The threat was quiet. Smooth. But it was real.

She nodded once. “Then I guess I’m playing.”

Mark clapped his hands like a child. “Excellent!”

He handed her a folder. “Let’s start with something simple. Blood

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