The Alpha's Mafia Luna novel Chapter 38

Chapter 38

Writer’s POV

Four days.

That was how long Selene had been asleep.

No movement, no words–just the shallow, rhythmic rise and fall of

her chest under layers of blankets. She looked so small in Damian’s

king–sized bed, like a fragile ghost tucked inside a fortress built for

wolves. The mansion was quiet, too quiet, save for the occasional

shuffle of a maid passing the hallway or the beeping from the IV

machine stationed at her side.

Her skin was pale, but warm. A flicker of life.

The doctors said the surgery was a success, and she was stable. But

her body needed time. Healing came slowly when you gave yourself to

protect someone else–when you willingly took a bullet meant for

another.

Damian sat beside her every hour of those four days, on a black

leather chair that hadn’t moved an inch since they brought her in. Meetings? Postponed. Calls? Ignored. His phone buzzed with urgent

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Chapter 38

updates, requests from Alphas across the country, business affairs

piling in—but none of it mattered. Not now. Not with Selene laying

here like this.

He watched her face carefully, memorizing every freckle, every scar,

every tiny twitch of her fingers.

She hadn’t twitched in a while.

Her body looked fragile, like something easily broken. The vibrant, sharp–tongued Selene who used to challenge him with nothing but a glance was nowhere to be found in this silent room. All that was left was her shell, a quiet breath between heartbeats.

The nights were the hardest. When the sun dipped below the hills and shadows crept through the corners of the room, Damian would sit by her side in silence, the only sound the low hum of machines and the occasional groan of the wind outside the windows.

He had never been afraid of the dark. Until now.

Mira came and went like a whisper, checking her vitals, feeding her fluids, pressing cool cloths to her forehead, but always quiet–like she knew how fragile the atmosphere was. The house staff barely dared to speak, even when mopping the marble floors or replacing fresh

linens.

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Chapter 38

They had never seen their Alpha this still.

Not angry. Not shouting. Just… there. Like a soldier waiting for orders

that never came.

The mansion, usually echoing with dominance and command, was

now wrapped in tension and stillness. Armed guards stood at every

gate, every entry point covered. The security system had been

upgraded three times in seventy–two hours. Motion sensors. Heat

detectors. Magical wards.

No one was getting in.

No one was taking her from him again.

He had replayed the scene in his mind a thousand times. The sound

of the shot. The blur of motion. Her cry of warning. The thud of her

body as she crashed into him. The blood.

His shirt was still stained with it–he hadn’t been able to throw it

away. It lay in the corner of the room like a reminder, soaked in

crimson regret.

Damian leaned forward now, elbows on his knees, his jaw rough with

stubble. His hand brushed a strand of hair off Selene’s cheek with the

gentleness of a man who didn’t know how to be gentle.

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Chapter 38

“You should’ve let it hit me,” he whispered, voice hoarse. “You

weren’t supposed to do that.”

Her lips didn’t move. Her eyes didn’t open.

He leaned back again, covering his face with both hands. His heart

felt raw–stripped, like it had been clawed open from the inside.

He had faced wars. Lost friends. Built empires from rubble. But

nothing had prepared him for the moment she stepped in front of

him, arms open, fearless… and took the bullet.

He could still hear the sound of it ripping through her body. Still feel

the weight of her collapsing into his arms, blood soaking into his

shirt like a curse.

“You reckless girl,” he muttered. “You reckless, stubborn little

thing…”

He didn’t know when his heart had begun to stitch itself around her,

only that now–without her voice, her fire, her rage–he felt… empty.

Time moved differently now. Every second felt like an hour, every

hour like a lifetime. His eyes ached from lack of sleep, but he refused

to leave her side.

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What if she woke up and he wasn’t there?

What if she woke up and thought he didn’t care?

The thought gutted him.

Mira entered with a tray of hot soup and medication. She gave him a

soft look, the kind that understood everything without needing

words.

She had been Damian’s healer for years, had seen him through bloodshed and betrayal, through battles no one else survived. But never like this. Never cracked open like something fragile.

“She’s healing,” Mira said quietly. “You’re not letting yourself.”

Damian didn’t respond.

He just looked at Selene again, his fingers brushing against hers

gently.

Her hand was so small in his. But it was warm. And that was enough-

for now.

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Chapter 38

Unknown POV

Somewhere far from the mansion, in a room choked with smoke and

shadows, a man stood by a window. The blinds were drawn, but light

slithered in, cutting through the haze and casting silver streaks

across his face.

He exhaled slowly, smoke curling from his lips. The cherry of his

cigarette glowed like a dying star.

“Mark…” he whispered.

Then, louder–robotic. Cold.

“Mark, you fool.”

The words echoed off the concrete walls. He turned, revealing a face

half–shadowed, half–illuminated by the blinking light of a screen

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