The Alpha's Mafia Luna novel Chapter 63

Chapter 63

The sun streamed through the curtains in golden sheets as I stood in

front of the mirror, smoothing down the soft folds of my lavender

sundress. It had a sweetheart neckline and flared gently at the waist,

just brushing above my knees. I paired it with a tiny silver anklet and

strappy white sandals. My hair was curled lightly and pinned back on

one side with a little rose–shaped clip. I looked like spring.

I was still adjusting the front when Damian walked into the room and

froze.

“Damn…” His voice dropped, low and drawn out. “You look like a

dream, Serene.”

I turned slightly, pretending to be casual, but I saw how his eyes

scanned me. Slowly. Thoroughly.

“You think so?” I asked, looking over my shoulder.

“I know so.” He stepped forward, brushing his thumb gently down my

arm. “You always look beautiful, but this–this is unfair to the rest of

the world.”

I laughed, cheeks warming. “Well, I had to match the man I’m

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dating.”

He smirked. Damian wore a crisp white shirt, perfectly fitted, tucked

into black tailored slacks that hugged his waist just right. The sleeves

were rolled to the elbows, veins prominent on his forearms, and he

wore his signature watch. His dark hair was slicked back with just the

right amount of messiness to drive someone insane.

“You ready to show the pack how good we look together?” he teased.

I rolled my eyes and grabbed my bag. “Let’s go before I melt under

your ego.”

We took the car–his favorite black SUV with matte rims and tinted

windows. He played some jazz–rock hybrid music as we cruised down

the road with the windows down. I let my hand glide in the wind,

feeling light and free.

The park wasn’t just any park. It was the private one near the pack

lands–wide, spacious, with flower gardens and winding trails, picnic

areas, an old bridge, and even a small frozen yogurt booth that

opened on warm days like this. The kind of place that seemed

designed for slow kisses and lazy laughter.

As we stepped out of the car, Damian immediately grabbed my hand,

lacing our fingers together like it was second nature. People greeted

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him with nods and waves–the Alpha, always respected. But today, he

wasn’t Damian the Alpha. He was just… my Damian. My date.

We walked past the gardens, and he suddenly stopped. I turned and

found him watching me with a quiet smile.

“What?” I asked.

“Nothing. You just glow in the sun. It’s not fair.” He gently kissed my

knuckles before we walked further into the park.

We found a soft grassy spot under a blooming cherry blossom tree.

Damian laid down the blanket he’d packed earlier–yes, he insisted on

bringing one–and unpacked a picnic basket filled with all the sweet

things I liked. He’d even packed a tiny container of chocolate–covered

strawberries. The good ones.

“Are you trying to seduce me with sugar?” I raised a brow.

“Is it working?”

“…Maybe.”

We sat, ate, and talked. About everything and nothing. He told me funny stories about pack members trying to impress their crushes. I

told him about how Mira used to make me fake text her so she could

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escape terrible dates.

Then, in the middle of one of Damian’s dramatic impersonations of a

nervous young Beta, a little boy ran toward us.

He couldn’t have been more than four years old, chubby–cheeked,

brown curls bouncing as he held a blue balloon and ran straight up to

1. me.

“Hi,” he said shyly, staring up at me.

“Hi there,” I said, smiling.

“You’re pretty,” he said. “You look like a flower.”

I laughed, absolutely melting. “That’s the nicest thing anyone’s said

to me all day.”

He beamed, eyes wide. “Okay, bye!”

And just like that, he ran off again, his balloon flying behind him as

his mom called after him.

“Well,” I said, turning to Damian, “looks like I’ve got competition.”

Damian grinned. “I should’ve brought a balloon too.”

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Later, we walked along one of the park’s winding trails, our hands

still intertwined. We passed a couple painting on an easel, two older

wolves playing chess, and a teenage girl sketching quietly under a

maple tree. The air smelled like fresh grass and blossoms.

“Want some frozen yogurt?” Damian asked.

“You read my mind.”

He guided us toward the booth, ordering for both of us. I got

strawberry with cookie crumble. He got vanilla with chocolate chips.

We sat on a bench, legs touching, and watched people pass by. It was

so normal, yet so special. The kind of date I never really had growing

1. up.

I leaned my head on his shoulder. “This is perfect.”

He kissed the top of my head. “Serene?”

“Hm?”

“There’s a ball happening next weekend. Mafia event. It’s a thing. You know–black tie, guns hidden in tuxes, red carpets, very intimidating

people.”

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I lifted my head, eyeing him. “A ball?”

He nodded. “I was invited. Obligated, actually. And I want you to

come with me.”

I looked at him, slowly licking my spoon. “This won’t be the first

Mafia ball I’ve attended with you, you know.”

He laughed. “Oh, that one doesn’t count. That was mafia–lite.”

I smiled but my voice was serious. “Fine. I’ll go. But I stand by what I

always say–no blood. I hate blood. Don’t do anything funny. If

someone gets shot this time, I’m walking out.”

“Deal,” he said, completely straight–faced. “I’ll keep my bullets in my

pocket.”

After the yogurt, we walked again–this time to the small lake near

the park’s edge. The water reflected the orange–pink glow of sunset.

There were lily pads and ducks floating lazily.

Damian bent down to tie my sandal strap when it came loose,

completely unbothered. Like I was a queen and he was my most loyal

knight.

We sat near the lake, and I let my feet dip in the water. Cool.

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Refreshing.

“You know,” I said, watching the ripples. “I never thought I’d have

this. Peace.”

“I want to give you more,” he said softly. “All of it.”

I looked at him, heart tight. “You already do.”

We stayed until the stars began to dot the sky. When we finally

walked back to the car, he wrapped his arm around my waist and

kissed the side of my neck. Not lustful. Not demanding. Just gentle.

Intimate. Secure.

“I’m glad I asked you out,” he whispered.

I leaned against him. “Took you long enough.”

He opened the car door for me. “We still have ice cream at home.”

“Is that a bribe to come back to your bed?”

He smirked. “Yes. And it’s working.”

That night, I lay in bed with my head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart, thinking about cherry blossoms, kids with

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balloons, strawberry yogurt, and a man who made even a normal day

feel magical.

And maybe… just maybe… I didn’t mind the idea of going to a ball

with him again.

As long as he kept his bullets in his pocket.