LOGINLUNAWhy the fuck didn’t I born as a bird? A dragon would be nice too. I get to kill men.—Luna’s Journal“What the fuck is she doing outside her room?”Sandro didn’t shout. Didn’t raise his voice over his usual decibel. Didn’t look angry. His face didn’t turn red. I am sure his eyes stayed the same. But I can feel the weight of his gaze on my back.I gripped the knife hard, pressing my hands closer to the shirt I am wearing.Yup, I stole the knife despite the warning.Who said I would listen to advice, least of all a man’s?Matias and Marco stared in silence. Marco’s eyes fell on my fists, and he shook his head, slowly muttering something that sounded like unbelievable.“You are beyond saving.” He says to me.“Turn around.” The order came from Sandro, who is behind.My back stiffened instantly.Something about his voice, something about how low and dangerous it sounds, makes me imagine the worst.My body complied on its own.I slowly turned around to find him filling the doorway in a
LUNA I am nineteen. I was supposed to get married before twenty. Women in the Matrix age differently compared to the outside world. No, the correct explanation is that mafia men view the women differently. If they are eighteen, they are old enough to get married. If they are twenty-one and single, they are way too old to get married, even for a guy twice their age. The women in our outfit won’t be caught dead in jeans outside their houses. We were raised to be proper, prim, poised and become a trophy wife. High school was the highest degree we could ever get. So, in short, we are just a bobby-popping machine. We produce heirs. And some more heirs. Every man in Matric dedicates half of his life to protecting our honour. In short, they wanted virgin lambs to get married. You know, the awful custom of presenting bloodied after the wedding night—yup, we have it. Back to me, my father and all the Matrix he ruled, see this kidnapping as a stain on their reputation. I mean, how dare Ale
LUNAA long time ago, my father had a best friend.Elio.The Don who ruled Ashmoor's underworld.According to every drunk mafia uncle I had ever eavesdropped on, the two of them were inseparable. They built an empire together, spilt blood together, and probably buried enough bodies together to start their own cemetery. If one sneezed, the other probably blessed him.Then Alessandro entered the picture.Or rather, he was always there.Elio was his uncle.Alessandro's father had died years ago, and the rumour everyone whispered behind closed doors was that Elio had killed his own brother to seize the throne. Whether that was true or not, I had no idea. Mafia men lied almost as often as they breathed. But one rumour never changed.Alessandro was waiting.Waiting for the perfect opportunity to take everything back.Revenge was practically a family tradition in our world.Before all of that, though, there was another scandal.Elio's wife disappeared.His son disappeared with her.Just... v
ALESSANDRO Finally. She is crying. I wondered if I traumatised too much. She is crying. That’s a good sign. I can’t have her all traumatised before I achieve my mission. “Did you seriously keep the girl in your room and start spying on her when she was in the said room?” I sighed and turned around to find Marco, looking at my phone. I turned it off by pressing the power button and tossed it on the couch. “Is everything ready?” I asked him. Marco was my second in command. He is the Enforcer, sometimes a soldier, sometimes acts as a strategist, and at times like this, an absolute nuisance. “She is young.” He added as an afterthought. There was a second pause. Then— “Is that why you brought her here instead of keeping her at Raven?” I ignored him like I always do. Words are a waste of time, especially when it was with Marco I am talking to. He is a good strategist. A loyal man. But he has a big mouth, and he hardly ever stops using it. I heard a crunch, “This is good.” He say
LUNATwo heads snapped at me. Two pairs of Amber eyes zeroed in on me. Oh shit! They are brothers.Which means Sandro is the Alessandro. Matias is the younger brother. He is just a kid whom my father tried to abduct and failed miserably two or three months ago.How did I know?I eavesdrop. All the time.My mom taught me that it was bad manners when I was a kid. But when you are living in a jungle, it’s important to improve your listening skills.Listen for the weather.Listen for the threats.Listen for the warnings.Listen for the signs.Just listen.Don’t talk.It was Alessandro who turned towards me first, and I finally got to see my kidnapper.If I were walking on a street and passed by him, I would immediately recognise him as some mafia don.He is tall, has broad shoulders, furious eyes, and a bulky body.And he is ancient. As in, he is a millennial with a capital M.I thought they were going extinct soon.He looked... twenty-eight? Twenty-nine? Somewhere around there.Old enoug
LUNAIt’s a house with no guards.For a fleeting second, I felt lucky before it dawned on me that a man like him needed guards.If my guess is correct, he is another mafia lord or a mob boss. Judging by the size of his house, I am betting on the earlier.On one hand, he was balancing, and with the other hand, he opened a door.The room was dark. But I can see the king-sized bed in it.Not so gently, he placed me on the edge of it.I immediately scurried back, my hands searching for anything I could find as a weapon, and I did.A lamp.A raise my hand, threatening him to come closer. My chest heaving, my dress doing little to nothing to cover my cleavage.He narrowed his gaze. I still didn’t get a good look at his face.Slowly, he shook his head. Walked to what looked like a closet and came out with a T-shirt and tossed it towards me.“Wear this,” he ordered.I looked at the T-shirt and then at him.“Even if you spread your legs for every man in Whiltred, I still wouldn't touch you." H







