CHAPTER THIRTEEN
1057 Words
SILVER’S POV
It had been five days.
Five long, quiet days since I’d married a ghost in a black suit.
Alessio De Luca hadn’t said a single word to me since the ceremony. Not a good morning. Not a good night. Not even a glance in the halls.
He hasn't seen me at all.
I hadn’t even seen him or caught a glance at him once.
It was like he didn’t even live in the house at all.
And honestly? That suited me just fine.
He wasn’t the first man to ignore me.
But he would be the last to make me feel small because of it.
“Luna,” one of the kitchen maids—Clara, I think—stammered, holding out a tray of breakfast with both hands, her eyes wide like I might snap at her.
“Would you like it served in your sitting room today?”
I looked down at the food.
Toast. Eggs. Fresh fruit, neatly arranged in perfect circles like someone cared more about symmetry than appetite.
“No.” I said.
“Take it to the East Wing conference room.”
Clara blinked.
“Pardon?”
“I’ll be eating while I review the pack’s budget reports.”
She hesitated.
“Beta Lorenzo didn’t—”
“I don’t need Lorenzo’s permission to read files sent to me or any files pertaining to this pack.” I offered her a small smile.
“I am the Luna now. Remember?”
She flushed, mumbled something under her breath, and scurried out.
I followed her down the hallway, with my face forward and graceful like my father and all the coaches had taught me.
The staff still watched me like I was some kind of wild animal—unpredictable, foreign, dangerous. It didn’t help that their Alpha treated me like I didn’t exist.
But I was starting to get used to that.
It wasn't the same as Night pack, but it wasn't entirely different either.
Night pack respected me only because of my family and title.
Look how they all scorned me the moment I lost that.
The East Wing was colder than the rest of the estate. Less lived-in. But the conference room was stunning—floor-to-ceiling windows, a polished oak table, and two chandeliers that sparkled in the late morning light.
Cassano pack was stunning, I must admit.
They really put effort into the aesthetic of the pack.
So... Italian.
I sat at the head of the table.
Alone.
As usual.
Clara placed the tray beside me and bowed her way out like I was royalty she wasn’t sure how to serve.
I ignored the food and pulled the files toward me.
Pack records.
Resource distribution.
Border patrol rotations.
Territory disputes.
And then the finance reports.
That’s where I paused.
Because something didn’t add up.
Cassano Pack was massive. Strong. Feared. Their allies were few, but their land was valuable, and their warriors were elite.
And yet… they were bleeding money.
Fast.
The war chest hadn’t been restocked in over a year. Trade routes with minor packs had dried up. The import/export logs were months behind.
And the healthcare budget?
Nonexistent.
I flipped through more pages, heart sinking with everyone.
No wonder the people here looked tired. No wonder the children I’d seen from my balcony barely smiled. No wonder the estate looked like a kingdom without a pulse.
This pack was running on fumes.
And no one was saying a word.
Not even the Alpha.
What was he really doing?
The door opened behind me.
I turned around sharply, expecting a maid or a guard.
But it was Lorenzo.
His brow rose.
“You’re up early as usual.”
“It’s nearly noon.”
“For Alessio, that’s breakfast time.”
I smiled faintly.
“I suppose he’s not one for mornings. Or afternoons. Or speaking.”
Lorenzo walked further into the room, eyeing the files in front of me.
“You’ve been busy.”
“Your budget’s a mess.”
“His budget.” he corrected.
“I just keep the wolves in line.”
I tapped the war chest record.
“This estate is bleeding. And you’re acting like the wound doesn’t exist. You're beta for crying out loud!”
Lorenzo’s jaw twitched.
He definitely wasn't used to someone correcting or calling him out.
He better get used to it.
“You’re not wrong. But don’t think pointing it out will earn you points with him.”
“I don’t want points with anyone.” I said firmly.
“I want order. Stability. You’re barely keeping things afloat, and you're comfortable with it. Where exactly is all the money going to?”
He studied me for a long beat.
“You’re not what I expected.”
“I get that a lot.”
“You could’ve just stayed locked up in your fancy Luna wing, playing dress-up. Pretending you were married to a statue.”
“Tempting.” I said dryly.
“But I’ve already been locked up before. I’m not going to waste this second chance being invisible.”
Lorenzo folded his arms.
“You think you can fix this place?”
“No,” I said.
“I know I have to. It is my duty as Luna of this pack.”
Silence stretched between us for a moment.
I sounded uptight, I know.
But this was a whole mess.
Then he nodded once.
“I’ll have someone bring you the trade route maps.” he said.
“And the last three months of Alpha council notes. If you’re serious about helping… you’ll need to see how deep the rot goes.”
“I’m serious.”
He turned toward the door, then paused.
“You should eat. You'll need it in the long run.”
“I will.”
“Even if he ignores you forever?”
I smiled softly.
“He’s not the reason I’m hungry.”
Lorenzo huffed a laugh.
“Good. The last woman who tried to earn his affection with baked goods ended up in tears.”
“Don’t worry. I don’t bake. I don't even know how to cook.”
He left with a nod.
And I went back to work.
Because if I couldn’t be the Luna in his arms…
I would be the Luna his pack needed.
- Writer
