Dominic's Pov

I studied the map laid out on my desk, noting the areas my half-brother had penetrated during the last month. Red pins marked the eastern edge of our territory, inching nearer to our central assets like an infection.

"He's becoming more daring," Alexander observed, leaning against the corner of my desk. "Last week, three of our warehouses were affected."

I nodded, my jaw tightening as I examined the design. "Victor has always had high aspirations, but this situation is unique. He's not solely challenging our defenses—he's conveying a message."

"The timing is not accidental," Alexander remarked, his voice becoming quieter. "Your union with Luna alters the situation. Establishes your position as the successor."

"That's precisely why Father set it up," I said, running my fingers through my hair. The Silver Crescent pack has consistently been strategically located. "With them integrated into our area—"

"Victor has lost his main path for smuggling activities," Alexander concluded. "Furthermore, he has the opportunity to contest for your role."

I ran a finger along the border of the map, pondering. "He's been cornered. That renders him a threat."

"More perilous than normal," Alexander concurred, his face serious. "We ought to enhance security on the property. Particularly concerning Luna."

The utterance of her name ignited a surge of possessiveness within me. The recollection of her fragrance, combined with Victor's, caused my wolf to growl with fury.

"Completed," I replied. "Nobody approaches within a mile of this location without my awareness."

Alexander paused, which is unusual for my typically decisive Beta. "There's another thing you ought to be aware of." Regarding Luna.

My gaze shot to him. "What about her situation?"

"The event at Moonlight." "I have been inquiring." He stood upright, looking directly into my eyes. "The person she was accompanying—"

My phone chimed, breaking the silence. Victoria's name appeared on the screen, and I hardly stifled a groan.

"Here you go," Alexander remarked, making his way toward the door. "I'll complete the security preparations."

I nodded and raised the phone to my ear. "Victoria. This is surprising."

"Dominic," she said softly over the speaker, her tone warm and recognizable. "You've been steering clear of me."

"I've had a lot on my plate," I answered calmly, glancing out at the window. The fields extended ahead of me, illuminated by the afternoon sun. Somewhere within this house, Luna was adjusting to her new existence.

"Too occupied for me?" Victoria inquired. "That has not occurred previously."

I squeezed the bridge of my nose. Victoria had been a practical solution—bodily satisfaction without emotional involvement. Or so I believed.

"Everything is different now," I stated plainly.

Her laugh was fragile. "The union. Certainly, your dad's minor political tactic."

"Mind your tone," I cautioned, steel underscoring my voice.

A quiet moment lingered between us. Then, gentler: "I merely believed what we shared was meaningful to you."

"I made it obvious from the start, Victoria." "We had an agreement, nothing beyond that."

"What's next?"

"It's finished now."

A further halt. I could nearly observe her steadying herself, adjusting her expression into the practiced facade she donned so effortlessly.

"Is it really that simple?" she inquired at last. "Following all that?"

"Sure," I replied matter-of-factly. "Just in that manner."

"You will come to regret this," she murmured, any hint of affection vanished. "She is unable to offer you what I can."

My wolf reacted with tension to the suggested danger. "Don't complicate this more than necessary, Victoria." "It won't turn out favorably for you."

"Is that a warning, Dominic?"

"A fact," I amended. "Farewell, Victoria."

I terminated the call before she had a chance to reply, slamming the phone down on my desk more harshly than needed. Females. Consistently making the easiest arrangements more complex.

The intercom at my desk rang. "Don Russo," my secretary's voice echoed in. "Your dad is calling from Milan. Line two.”

I exhaled deeply, grabbing the phone once more. From one issue to the next. That was the existence of an Alpha successor.

Luna’s POV

The silk robe seemed strange on my skin, overly soft, overly luxurious. I felt out of place in the large bathroom while three maids hurried around me, arranging lotions, perfumes, and makeup on the marble countertop.

"The Don enjoys the scent of lavender on his women," a maid quietly told another, barely loud enough.

"Quiet, Maria," the older woman reprimanded, casting a quick look in my direction. "The Donna has no interest in your gossip."

Donna. The title seemed just as unsuitable as the robe. Fewer than twenty-four hours ago, I was strategizing my getaway. I was now the wife of the son of the most feared mafia don, expected to assume a role I knew nothing about.

"When will I see... my spouse?" The word lodged in my throat.

The elder maid—Sofia, she claimed her name was—cast me a compassionate glance. Don Russo is busy with work this afternoon. "He's asked you to have dinner with him at eight."

In five hours. Five hours to adapt to this new circumstance.

"Is there... a place I can visit?" "Is there another room?" I inquired, sensing the walls tightening around me even with the suite's vastness.

Sofia paused. The area is vast. "Maybe a garden tour could assist you in feeling at home?"

An opportunity to discover. To outline possible evacuation paths. "Certainly," I responded swiftly. "That would be ideal."

An hour later, I had put on a plain blue sundress, my hair was brushed until it gleamed, and I was guided through a confusing set of hallways to the main level. The mansion was even more expansive than it looked from the outside, a labyrinth of spaces and hallways that appeared intended to bewilder.

"The rose garden is right beyond those doors," Sofia said, gesturing to a pair of French doors that led to a sunlit terrace. "Marco will be with you for safety reasons, but he will maintain a respectful distance."

Marco. The identical guard who assisted me with packing last night. His expression stayed neutral, yet I observed his eyes continually searching, vigilant for dangers. I understood that they weren't monitoring me, but rather safeguarding me.

"I appreciate it," I told Sofia, who grinned and quickly went on to her other tasks.

The gardens were stunning, carefully tended with meandering trails and secret nooks. Under different circumstances, I could have considered them romantic. At this moment, I observed every exit and every blind spot, recording details out of routine.

"The Don had these roses brought in from France," Marco remarked unexpectedly as I stopped to look at a particularly vivid flower. "Initially, for his mother." He keeps them alive in her memory.

I looked at him, taken aback by the intimate detail. "Have you been employed by the family for a long time?"

"Since my childhood," he nodded. "My dad worked for Don Russo Senior, just like his dad did."

Commitment that endures through generations. In my world, it was an unfamiliar idea, as loyalties changed like the breeze.

We proceeded in comfortable quiet, turning a corner to discover we were close to the front of the property. The large wrought-iron gates remained shut in the distance, with armed guards monitoring its perimeter.

A stronghold, not a residence.

The chime of the doorbell resonated throughout the mansion. I looked over at the main entrance, observing the abrupt burst of movement outside the windows.

"We ought to go back inside," Marco proposed, a strain evident in his tone.

Intrigued, I began to head toward the house instead. "Who is expected to visit? I believed security was strict."

"It is," Marco confirmed, keeping step with me. "This means that whoever it is has permission. Even more reasons for us to—"

"I'll merely have a look," I guaranteed, already sprinting up the terrace stairs. "I will not hinder."

The main entrance space became suddenly vacant as employees raced in different directions, either shouting for Dominic or preparing appetisers for the unexpected arrivals. The doorbell rang again, more furiously.

"I can handle it," I told a frazzled maid racing down the hallway with a bundle of linens.

She gave me a quick nod before heading down a hallway.

"Is this her?" she enquired, her tone filled with hatred. "Is this what Dominic swapped me for?"

The man—who must be Victor, the half-brother I'd heard about—placed a possessive hand on the small of my back, bending in so close that his breath touched my ear.

"Hello again, little wolf," he whispered, low enough that only I could hear. "Fate has a funny way of bringing people together, doesn't it?"