The Alpha's Mafia Luna novel Chapter 91

Chapter 91

Serene’s POV

The morning came earlier than I wanted it to, the harsh buzz of my

alarm dragging me from sleep before the sun had even begun to rise properly. For a moment, I lay still, staring at the ceiling, the silence of my apartment pressing down like a weight. But there was no point in staying wrapped in warmth when the world outside was already

moving, and I had to keep up.

I swung my legs over the side of the bed, my feet meeting the cold floor, a sharp reminder that I was really awake now–no more hiding under blankets. Last night’s exhaustion clung to me like a second skin. My muscles ached as if I’d run a marathon in heels, and my mind buzzed with a jumble of new words and faces I was barely able

to keep straight.

I headed straight to the bathroom, where the cold splash of water on my face was the closest thing to a wake–up call I could find. Staring at my reflection in the mirror, I saw a tired version of myself looking

back. The dark circles under my eyes were proof that my body was still adjusting, but my eyes held a spark–a stubborn determination not to give up. I needed that spark. I needed to believe it was enough.

I pulled on a clean blouse, one that was a little softer than yesterday’s

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stiff fabric, and skipped the heels this morning. Practical shoes,

something that wouldn’t make my feet scream by lunchtime. I

carefully tied my hair back into a loose ponytail, wanting to look put

together but not perfect. I wasn’t perfect, and I wasn’t pretending to

be anymore.

The elevator ride down was quieter than I expected. I was hoping it

would be empty so I could mentally prepare for the day ahead

without distractions. But halfway down, a guy stepped in–a man who

smelled like he’d just stepped out of an expensive ad for cologne. The

scent hit me like a wave of fancy yachts and private jets, making me

want to inhale as little as possible. I kept my eyes on the floor,

pretending to check my phone as the elevator dinged and I was

finally free to escape.

Outside, the city buzzed with its usual chaos. Car horns blared,

people rushed by with their coffees and phones, and the air smelled

like a strange mix of exhaust and baked goods. It wasn’t my favorite

smell, but it was real. It was life. And today, I was part of it.

I pulled my little car out from its parking spot. It wasn’t shiny or new,

certainly not like the sleek luxury cars the other employees drove. It

was the small, practical one I had taken from Damian’s place. Nothing

flashy. Nothing meant to impress. Just a car that got me from point A

to point B without drawing unwanted attention.

The drive to work was slow because, naturally, traffic in the city was a

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nightmare during rush hour. But for once, I didn’t mind. The slow

crawl gave me time to think. To prepare. To build up the courage for

another day.

The office building was the same imposing structure I’d walked into

yesterday, but today it didn’t feel quite as intimidating. Maybe

because I’d already survived one day. Or maybe because I was starting

to feel like I belonged–just a little bit.

As I entered the lobby, my heels clicking softly on the polished floor,

I spotted Marcus from marketing. Not the janitor version I’d emailed

yesterday, but the actual Marcus–the guy who seemed to know the

ropes. He caught my eye and smiled, and to my surprise, I smiled

back.

“Hey, Serene. Ready for round two?” he asked, his tone light but

genuine.

I laughed, feeling the awkwardness ease away a little. “Let’s survive

this one too.”

The day stretched out in a series of meetings, emails, and trying

desperately to remember names. Each time I blanked on someone’s

name, my cheeks flushed hot with embarrassment. But I pushed

through. I reminded myself that no one expected me to know

everything on day one. Or day two. Maybe not even on day ten.

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Camille stopped by my desk again, her usual serious expression

softened by a small smile. She handed me a packet of those fancy

cookies I’d been too scared to touch yesterday.

“Try these,” she said. “You’re doing better than you think.”

I took one, the cookie delicate and sweet, and smiled back. That tiny

gesture felt like a small victory.

By the time five o’clock rolled around, my feet were aching again, but

my spirit felt stronger. I’d made it through day two. I was still

standing.

Driving home, I let the familiar hum of the city lull me into a tired

calm. My little car rolled along the streets, surrounded by the noise

and chaos of people’s lives rushing by. I thought about how I’d

started this new chapter, not with fireworks or grand gestures, but

with small steps.

Back at the apartment, Naia was already there, curled up on the

couch in one of her oversized hoodies, a takeaway bag on the coffee

table like it was treasure.

“I made dinner,” she said with a smile. “Pad thai and bubble tea. Plus,

gossip to go with it.”

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I felt my heart lighten. “You’re the best.”

We ate together, sharing noodles and stories, slipping back into our

easy rhythm. Naia’s presence was like a balm for my weary soul.

After dinner, I peeled off my blouse and kicked off my shoes. The

relief of loosening my clothes was immense. Clothes off, bra off, the

armor I wore all day finally discarded.

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