The Alpha's Mafia Luna novel Chapter 45

Chapter 45

The dining room was quiet, except for the soft clinking of silverware.

Mira sat across from me, quietly nibbling at her food, occasionally

glancing between Damian and me. She didn’t say much – didn’t have

1. to. The tension at the table spoke louder than any words.

Damian sat at the head of the table, his plate untouched. His eyes

never left me.

I felt them burning into my skin, waiting.

I knew he wanted me to speak.

I knew I couldn’t avoid it anymore.

I set my fork down, wiping my hands on the napkin before folding them on my lap. My fingers trembled slightly as I pressed them

together, willing myself to stay calm.

“I didn’t tell anyone about the dream,” I said finally, my voice soft but

steady. “Because I wanted to figure it out myself.”

Damian leaned back in his chair slowly, the leather creaking under

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his weight. His jaw tightened, the muscle ticking beneath the sharp

line of his cheekbone.

“Don’t you trust me?” he asked, his voice low, rough around the

edges.

Mira’s eyes flicked up briefly but she stayed silent, chewing slowly,

pretending to be uninterested. But I knew she was listening to every

word.

I looked down at my hands, feeling the heat of shame creep up my

neck. My stomach twisted painfully.

“This was before the kidnapping,” I said quietly. “Before I really

started trusting you.”

The words hung between us, heavy and awkward.

Damian said nothing, but the disappointment in his eyes was like a

punch to my gut. His shoulders stiffened, and he let out a slow exhale

through his nose.

The silence was deafening.

I pushed forward, forcing the truth out before I lost my nerve.

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“Yes… a woman appeared in my dream. She was singing a lullaby.”

Damian’s eyes sharpened immediately, his posture going rigid. The

air around us shifted, growing heavier, darker.

“Do you remember the lullaby?” he asked, voice calm but so cold it

made me flinch.

“Yes,” I whispered, my voice almost lost in the vastness of the dining

room.

There was a pause, thick and stifling.

“Call Ivy,” Damian said, the command slipping out almost automatically, like he was already moving through solutions,

controlling the situation the way he always did.

But I shook my head quickly.

‘I already did my research,” I interrupted, my voice gaining strength

from somewhere deep inside me. “I had to.”

Damian’s brows furrowed, his eyes narrowing slightly. He wasn’t used

to being challenged. Not by me.

Mira lifted her eyes again, this time a little more openly curious, but

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Chapter 45

still silent.

“I read about the lullaby while I was in Mark’s custody,” I continued,

speaking faster now, afraid if I hesitated, I’d lose my nerve. “I spent

days – maybe weeks – reading anything I could find. I had to. I

needed to stay sane… and I’needed answers.”

Mira set her fork down softly, the sound unnaturally loud in the

silence. She folded her hands neatly in her lap and simply watched

1. me.

I took a shaky breath, my pulse thudding in my ears.

“The woman in my dreams… she’s not just anyone.”

I looked up, meeting Damian’s eyes head–on, refusing to flinch.

“She was the Queen of a lost kingdom. A kingdom that no longer

exists.”

Damian sat perfectly still, his body a coiled spring of restrained

emotion. Across the table, Mira stiffened slightly, her lips pressing

into a thin line, but she didn’t speak.

“You’re saying,” Damian said slowly, as if weighing every word, “that

the dead Queen of some forgotten land is contacting you.”

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Chapter 45

I nodded once, feeling the weight of it settle on my shoulders all over

again.

Damian’s jaw clenched so tightly I thought he might break a tooth.

His fists curled slightly on the table, the veins in his forearms

standing out stark against his skin.

When he finally spoke again, his voice was low, dangerous, a growl

barely contained.

“Don’t you ever hide something like this from me again, Selene.”

The way he said my name – deep, possessive, final – made my heart

stutter painfully in my chest.

I swallowed hard, feeling suddenly very small in the huge dining

room.

“I’m sorry,” I said, barely above a whisper.

For a long moment, Damian didn’t move. The room felt frozen around

us, like time itself had stopped to witness this.

Then, with a soft scrape of chair legs against marble, Damian pushed

back his seat and stood.

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The way he walked toward me was slow, deliberate, each footstep

sounding like a drumbeat in my ears.

When he reached me, he leaned down, resting his hands on either

side of my chair, caging me in. His body radiated heat and anger and

something darker, something more desperate.

His voice brushed against my ear – deep, soft, and terrifyingly

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