The Alpha's Mafia Luna novel Chapter 79

Chapter 79

It had been a quiet morning. Too quiet.

Damian had left the house early for some business meeting, and I was

more than glad to see him go. His presence had been like a storm

cloud hanging over me–dark, heavy, suffocating. Ever since I found

out the truth about my father’s death, I couldn’t look at him without

remembering the pain. The betrayal. The lie.

I stood in front of the mirror, brushing my hair slowly, thinking. My

wardrobe was filled with clothes Damian had chosen. Fancy dresses.

Tight jeans. Short silk tops. Nothing that felt like me.

I needed something new. Something simple. Something mine.

I grabbed my phone and walked down the hallway, knocking on

Damian’s door. He was sitting on the edge of his bed, buttoning his

shirt.

He looked up when I entered. “Need something?”

I crossed my arms. “I want to go shopping tomorrow.”

“For what?”

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“Clothes.”

He paused, then stood and reached for his wallet. Without a word, he

pulled out his black card and handed it to me.

“Use this.”

I raised an eyebrow. “That’s it?”

He shrugged. “Buy whatever you want. But you go with a guard.”

“I don’t need a guard,” I replied.

Damian’s voice turned sharp. “That’s not up for debate. You’re not

leaving this house without protection.”

I rolled my eyes and walked out. I didn’t plan to listen anyway.

By afternoon, he was gone. The house was unusually still. I changed

into jeans, a white shirt, and sneakers–simple clothes–and tied my

hair up in a loose ponytail. I stuffed the black card into my pocket

and grabbed my phone and bag.

As I reached the front door, Mira appeared, arms folded.

“Where are you going?” she asked.

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“Out,” I said.

“Serene…” her voice lowered. “You can’t be seen like this. It’s not

safe. People know who you are now. Damian’s Luna. His enemies

might try something.”

I tilted my head. “Thankfully, I’m not Damian’s Luna. I was never his.

He never marked me.”

Her lips parted in shock. “But—”

“And for the record, Mira,” I said, my voice calm but sharp, “I can

protect myself.”

I walked past her and shut the door behind me.

The city was alive with soft wind and the smell of roasted street food.

I kept my hood up and my head down, walking through narrow alleyways and shops I hadn’t visited before. It felt strange being out

again, alone. Free.

I entered a small boutique with colorful clothes hanging in the

window. It was quiet inside. Just the faint sound of music playing and

a few customers browsing.

As I walked toward a rack of long skirts, I heard a familiar voice

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behind me.

“I didn’t expect to see you here.”

I turned slowly.

Naia.

She stood with her arms folded, her long braids falling over her

shoulders. Her eyes were sharp. Cold. And filled with something

deeper–hurt.

I swallowed hard.

“Naia.”

She said nothing.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t know. I didn’t know Damian killed my

father.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Took you long enough to find out.”

I felt my throat tighten. “Please. I’m sorry. I want to fix things. I’ve been looking for you.”

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My voice broke at the end. My hands shook. My heart felt too loud.

Naia stared at me for a few more seconds. Then, slowly, she stepped

forward–and hugged me.

A soft, warm hug.

Not cold. Not angry.

Just… familiar.

“At least now you know the truth,” she whispered, rubbing my back

gently.

Tears slipped down my cheek.

I nodded, smiling through the mess. “I have so much to tell you.”

She pulled back with a grin. “Then you better tell me over coffee.”

We sat in a little outdoor café just around the corner. It had two small chairs, a glass table, and a view of the street. I ordered tea, Naia ordered coffee. It felt like old times–before the pain, before the

betrayal.

I rolled up my sleeve and showed her the mark on my hand.

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Naia’s eyes widened. “You never had this.”

“I know,” I said. “It showed up after a dream.”

“What kind of dream?”

I smiled, a little shy. “A woman appeared. Beautiful. Radiant. She was

singing… strange words. Old, ancient. When I woke up, the mark was

there.”

Naia leaned forward. “Who was she?”

“My mother.”

Her mouth fell open. “What?”

“I found out… she was a princess. She fell in love with my dad. The night the palace burned, she gave birth to me in the forest. She died

protecting me.”

Naia sat back in shock. “Serene…”

“I know,” I whispered. “It sounds unreal.”

She stared at me for a long time, then let out a small laugh. “So,

you’re royalty now?”

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