The Alpha's Mafia Luna novel Chapter 59

Chapter 59

I folded the last of my silk tops and tucked it into the corner of my

suitcase, my fingers lingering a little too long on the fabric. The

Italian morning light poured in from the grand windows of my room

in the estate, casting golden lines across the marble floor. I exhaled,

softly and slowly.

“I’m going to miss this place,” I murmured, more to myself than

anyone else.

From the doorway, Mira leaned against the frame, arms folded, an exaggerated pout on her face. “You’re going to miss Italy? Or you’re going to miss all the ridiculously hot staff Damian hired who have absolutely no idea how to button a shirt?”

I snorted, turning with an amused shake of my head. “Mira!”

“What? I mean, the chef literally offered me wine at ten a.m. shirtless. How’s a girl supposed to survive that kind of temptation?”

I zipped my suitcase and placed it neatly by the door. “You’re impossible.

I’m fabulous, Mire corrected, striding into the room. But sextoate

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You’ve changed here. You walked in all fierce and mysterious–now

look at you. Radiant. Loved. Sexed.”

I flushed instantly. “Mira!”

Mira burst out laughing. “What? Tell me I’m lying. After last night?

The entire house knows. Damian looked like a man who conquered a

country.”

I threw a pillow at her. “You’re horrible.”

“And you’re glowing.” Mira grinned, catching the pillow with ease and flopping down onto the bed dramatically. “L.A. won’t know what hit

it.”

I sighed, but it was a contented one. “I’m not nervous.”

“Good,” Mira said, more softly this time. “Because that city has seen your worst. Now it’s going to witness your rise.”

The moment lingered, full of memory and hope. Then Mira clapped her hands and jumped up. “Now let’s get you on that private jet before your man loses his mind waiting.

Damian’s jet was already idling on the runway when our black Sw pulled up beside it. My heart skipped a heat seeing him at the foot of

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the jet ́s stairs, arms crossed, sunglasses on, dressed in an effortlessly

expensive navy shirt and dark slacks.

Mira leaned over and whispered, “Tell me again why I’m still single

when men like that exist?”

“Because you scare most of them,” I replied with a smirk.

“True.”

Damian opened my door before the driver could, his hand already

extended. “You’re late.”

I stepped out into his arms. “You’re early.”

His smile was slow and intimate, the kind that did things to my

insides. “Couldn’t wait.”

Mira rolled her eyes. “Okay, Romeo and Juliet, some of us are starving.

Let’s fly already.”

Damian raised a brow. “The staff will serve you whatever you want on

board. But don’t sit too close. I plan on monopolizing Selene for the

entire flight.”

“Oh, I’m going to the back,” Mira waved, already dragging her carry-

Chapter 59

on toward the stairs. “Y’all better be quiet or I’m throwing my shoe.”

The inside of the jet was more luxurious than any commercial first- class experience I’d ever seen. Cream leather seats, a mahogany table

in the center, a plush reclining sofa in the rear lounge. Damian led me to the private seating area at the front of the cabin and pulled me

into his lap before I could protest.

“You’re clingy today,” I teased, wrapping my arms around his neck.

“I missed you the last three hours we were apart,” he murmured into

my neck. “That’s unacceptable.”

I giggled softly, feeling his breath against my skin.

“Comfortable?” he asked.

“Yes.”

He reached for the control panel beside the seat and reclined us slightly as the jet began to taxi down the runway.

“You’re really taking me home,” I said quietly, looking out the window as the Italian countryside sped by.

His hand found mine and squeezed. To your city. But with me this

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time.”

We took off, smooth and fast, the world below shrinking beneath us. I

leaned back into Damian’s chest as the engines hummed, my body

still sore but content from the night before.

Half an hour later, brunch was served–perfectly plated eggs benedict, fresh berries, croissants, and mimosas. Mira emerged from the back, grabbed a tray, made a face at Damian, and disappeared again.

“She’s giving us privacy,” I said around a bite of strawberry.

Damian smirked. “Or she’s just scared I’ll growl if she interrupts.”

“She’s not that scared of you.”

“Only a little.”

When we finished eating, I curled up beside him on the couch at the back of the cabin, my head on his chest, his fingers lazily tracing circles on my lower back.

“Do you think they’ll recognize me? I asked quietly.

Damian’s tone darkened slightly. “Who? The people who used to hurt

you?

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I nodded.

“They’ll see you,” he said after a pause. “But they won’t recognize you. You’re not the girl they threw away, Selene. You’re the woman who walked through fire and came out blazing.”

I looked up at him, my expression soft. “You’re going to make me cry

before we even land.”

He smiled down at me. “I’ll kiss them away.”

I laughed and snuggled closer. The jet hummed on, cruising through the skies, carrying us from one chapter to the next.

Several hours into the flight, the sun had begun to set over the horizon, washing the clouds in hues of orange and gold. I had dozed off sometime after lunch, my body curled against Damian like I belonged there–which, in a way, I did.

He hadn’t moved. Just watched me. Memorized the way my lashes fluttered in sleep, the way my lips parted slightly with every breath.

When I stirred, my hand clutching his shirt instinctively, he murmured, “We’re almost there.”

1 blinked, slowly waking. Huom?

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“Los Angeles. Twenty more minutes.”

I sat up, stretching. “I forgot how long this flight is.”

He kissed my temple. “Worth every minute.”

I turned to the window, watching as the coastlines and city lights

came into view. My home. Or the place that used to be. I wasn’t sure

what it would feel like to walk those streets again.

Mira returned to the main cabin, yawning. “Are we there yet, or do I

have time for another nap?”

“Ten more minutes,” I answered.

Mira dropped into a seat and grinned at me. “You slept for six hours.

That’s impressive.”

I flushed slightly, but Mira’s grin widened.

“Didn’t mean to,” I said.

“I’m sure Damian’s chest is the world’s most luxurious pillow.”

“I’m sitting right here,” Damian said dryly.