The Alpha's Mafia Luna novel Chapter 78

I woke up feeling like my body didn’t belong to me anymore.

The sheets smelled like expensive perfume

too clean, too foreign.

This wasn’t home. It never had been. The walls of Damian’s mansion

were tall and polished, but every inch of them screamed prison.

I stared at the ceiling for a while, empty.

I didn’t cry.

I didn’t scream.

I didn’t even curse his name.

I just laid there, letting the truth rot slowly inside my chest like

poison I wasn’t ready to spit out yet.

He killed my father.

The man I once thought I would build a life with

Damian

murdered my father and buried the truth behind kisses and warm lies.

I should’ve known. I should’ve seen it. But love… love had made me

blind. And now, love was dead.

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I rolled out of bed like I was made of stone. My legs were weak, but

my heart? It was sharper than it had ever been.

Damian had no idea what kind of storm he’d just brought back into

his home.

I didn’t bother fixing my hair. I didn’t care to look like anything more

than a woman betrayed. I threw on a hoodie, black leggings, and tied

my sneakers like I was going to war. Because in a way, I was.

When I stepped into the hallway, Mira was there. Waiting.

Her expression was tight, lips pursed, arms folded. She looked like she

hadn’t slept either. Maybe she hadn’t. Maybe guilt kept her up. I

didn’t care.

“Serene-” she said softly, stepping toward me.

I walked right past her like she was nothing but a breeze.

I didn’t want to hear her apologies. Not now. Not ever. If she really didn’t know what Damian did… then she was just another puppet in his show. I wasn’t interested in excuses. I wanted vengeance,

And I was going to get it. Slowly. Beautifully.

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I made it to the front door and pushed it open. Cold morning rain

greeted me. The sky was still grey, the grass soaked, but I didn’t stop.

I needed the wind on my skin. I needed my heartbeat in my ears. I

needed to remember what it felt like to be alive

–

to be in control of

something, even if it was just the rhythm of my own feet slamming

against the earth.

I ran.

Through the forest trail behind the estate, through the mud and wet

leaves, through my memories and rage and regret. I ran until the air

burned in my lungs and my legs started to ache. I didn’t stop.

Because if I stopped, I’d start thinking about his hands around mine.

His lips against my forehead.

His lies.

When I finally slowed down, I dropped to my knees, breathing hard.

Rain hit my face like the world itself was crying for me.

But I wasn’t crying.

I was planning.

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Back inside, Damian tried to talk to me. Of course he did.

I walked into the mansion, drenched and shivering. He was waiting at

the bottom of the staircase, arms crossed like some disappointed

husband.

“Where the hell did you go?” he snapped. “You can’t just disappear

like that.”

I looked him in the eye, dripping wet, and said the coldest thing I

could think of:

“I’m not your prisoner, Damian.”

He flinched.

“You’re not going to lock me in some golden cage and pretend like

nothing happened. I know what you did.”

“Serene, it’s not-‘

“Don’t speak,” I cut him off. “Not until you’re ready to tell the truth.

The whole truth.”

I walked past him before he could say another word. I didn’t scream. I

didn’t break anything. I didn’t sob into his chest. That’s what he

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expected.

What I gave him was worse.

Silence.

Distance.

Power.

I started training again that night.

—

In the basement gym he had built for himself that I now claimed

for me. I didn’t ask for permission. I didn’t need it.

I wrapped my hands in black cloth, stepped onto the mat, and threw

my first punch. And then another. And another.

I trained like a woman possessed. Not by grief, but by revenge.

Kael’s face flashed in my mind. His quiet strength. His loyalty. The

way he didn’t try to own me or control me. Just protected me and let

me breathe.

Damian had no idea the kind of woman Kael rescued that night.

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She died in that car crash.

The one who returned? She was something else entirely.

Every day after that, I lived like I had a secret.

Because I did.

I jogged in the morning, ignoring Mira’s sad eyes and Damian’s

frustration. I trained in the evenings, listening to music that made

my blood pump like thunder.

I didn’t speak to them unless I had to. I didn’t eat with them. I didn’t

sit at the dinner table.

I found joy in the little things. The feeling of sweat rolling down my back after a run. The way my body grew stronger with each punch. The silence I wrapped myself in like armor.

Every time Damian tried to get close, I stepped further away.

I could see it in his eyes the confusion. The desperation. He didn’t

know what to do with this version of me.

Good.

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Let him suffer.

Let him feel the ache of loving someone he already lost.

Let him watch me rebuild myself from the ashes of what he burned

down.

Let him fear the day I stop walking past him… and start walking

toward him.

Not to forgive.

But to destroy.

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1 Comments >

She won’t listen and something is going to happen and she will wish that she did.

7 days ago