My Dearly Beloved Luna

Chapter 2

“And the Alpha’s stepdaughter would have a private car waiting for her. Transportation arranged.” His eyes swept over the taxi before returning to me. “She wouldn’t show up in some beat-up taxi looking like she doesn’t belong here.”

“No,” I answer. “But I guess someone didn’t remember to collect me from the airport.”

For the first time, his expression flickers.

Only for a second.

Then it’s gone.

The driver cleared his throat awkwardly.

“Look… I just need to get paid.”

“Then get paid and leave,” the younger guard said dismissively without taking his eyes off me.

I reached into my purse, pulled out my wallet, and handed the driver three hundred-dollar bills, which was more than enough to cover the fare and leave him a generous tip.

“Thank you,” he muttered.

A second later, he climbed back into the taxi and drove away so quickly it was obvious he wanted nothing more to do with the situation.

I watched the taillights disappear before turning my attention back to the guards.

“Here’s what’s going to happen,” the mangled-faced guard said, folding his arms across his chest. “We’re going to call the main house. When they tell us they have no idea who you are, you’re going to pick up that suitcase and walk right back the way you came.”

He looked at me expectantly.“Understand?”

“Please make the call and don’t waste my time,” I reply.

He studied me for another second before unclipping the radio from his shoulder.

“Main gate to the house,” he says. “We have a situation.”

Static crackled through the speaker. Then a voice responds.“Go ahead.”

“We’ve got a woman here claiming to be Alpha Marcus’s stepdaughter. Says her name is Sylvia.”

Silence.

A long, unbearable silence.

My heartbeat thudded painfully against my ribs.

What if they didn’t remember me?

What if my mother told them to send me away?

“Describe her,” the voice finally replied.

The guard looked me over with open disdain.

“About six-one. Maybe five-ten.Red hair.Blue eyes.” His gaze lingered on me another moment before he added, “Looks Weak for a wolf.”

Another pause followed.

Then the radio hissed again.

“Send her through. I’ll send someone down to escort her.”

The surprise in the man’s voice was impossible to miss.

The guard’s expression darkened as he lowered the radio.“Looks like you were telling the truth.”

“Shocking,” I replied flatly.

“You’ll still wait here until your escort arrives,” he said. “We can’t have just anyone wandering around the Alpha’s grounds.”

I didn’t bother arguing.

Instead, I stood beside my suitcase in complete silence while the two guards watched me as though I might disappear the second they looked away.

A few minutes passed, and finally, someone emerged from the main house.

He looked to be in his sixties, dressed in the crisp black-and-white uniform of the household staff. A butler, judging by his appearance. His expression remained carefully neutral as he approached the gate.

“Miss Sylvia,” he greeted with a slight bow. “Welcome home. I’m Edmund, the one in charge of running this manor. Please accept my apologies for the… inconvenience.”

“It’s fine,” I lied.

Then Edmund turned his attention to the guards, his expression turning icy enough to make the air feel colder.

“Alpha Marcus will hear about the way you’ve treated his daughter, a member of his family.”

At the mention of the Alpha, the mangled-faced guard at least had the decency to look uncomfortable.“We were only following due procedure.”

“You were following your own prejudices,” Edmund replied coldly. “There is a difference.”

Then he looked back at me, and the harshness disappeared from his face.

“Please, allow me to take your luggage.” He offers

“I can manage,” I reply

But he ignored the protest, already reaching for my suitcase and Unlike the younger guard, he lifted it carefully, as though he understood there might be something inside worth protecting.

“This way, Miss,” he calls.

Immediately I followed him through the open gates, refusing to look back.

Because even without turning around, I could still feel the guards’ eyes on me, their judgment clinging to my back like a weight I couldn’t shake.

The walk to the main house felt longer than I remembered.

The driveway curved through perfectly trimmed gardens, past elegant fountains and stone sculptures that probably cost more than most people earned in a lifetime. Every hedge was flawless. Every flower bloomed in perfect rows.

Everything looked immaculate.

“I apologise again for the guards,” Edmund says quietly as we walked. “They should have treated you with more respect.”

“They didn’t believe I belonged here.” I glanced at him. “Can you blame them?”

He remained silent.

His silence answered the question better than his words ever could.

A few moments later, we reached the marble steps leading to the mansion.

The afternoon sun reflected off the polished stone, making the house appear even larger than I remembered. Three stories of wealth, power, and status towered over me.

Everything I wasn’t.

I tightened my grip on my purse and drew in a slow breath.

Here we go.

Edmund pushed open the grand front doors, and I stepped inside.

The sound of my shoes echoed softly against marble floors polished so perfectly they reflected the light like mirrors. The entrance hall looked exactly the way I remembered it. A soaring vaulted ceiling stretched overhead, an enormous crystal chandelier hung proudly above, and fresh flowers sat arranged inside a crystal vase on the centre table.

Nothing had changed.

Not even the emptiness.

“Please wait here, Miss,I’ll let Madam know you’ve arrived” Edmund said gently as he set my suitcase down with care.

He disappeared down one of the long hallways, leaving me alone in the enormous lobby.

Silence settled over the house. Interrupted only by the sound of kitchen utensils coming from somewhere in the house.

Two minutes passed.

Then five.

I shouldn’t have expected anything different.

No one was rushing to welcome me home.

The sharp click of high heels finally echoed through the hallway.

I looked up.

My mother appeared at the top of the sweeping staircase.

She was dressed in a velvet silk gown that probably cost more than most people earned in a month—to Match diamonds rested against her throat, her wrists, and her ears, catching the afternoon light with every graceful step she took. Her hair was put up into an elegant bun without a single strand out of place, and her makeup was flawless.

She looked like she was getting ready for an event. Not to welcome the daughter she hadn’t seen in six years.

But what plagued me the most wasn’t her appearance.

It was the look on her face.

Cool.

Measured.

Evaluating.

She looked at me the way someone might inspect a problem that needed solving rather than a child they’d missed.

“Sylvia.” She called.

She reached the bottom of the staircase, her eyes sweeping slowly over me.“You look exhausted.”

“The flight was taxing,” I replied, keeping my voice calm and controlled.

“I see.”She walked past me, her expensive floral perfume lingering in the air between us.“When did you arrive?”

“Three hours ago,” I replied.

She stopped and looked back over her shoulder.

For a brief second, something crossed her face.

Guilt or perhaps irritation.

It disappeared too quickly for me to know which.

“You should have called,” she said. “I would have sent someone.”

My fingers curled against my palms.“I messaged you.”

She frowned faintly.

With details about “My flight. The arrival time. Everything.”

“Hmm.”She dismissed it with a careless wave of her hand. “I’ve been terribly busy with the pack responsibilities. You know how these things are.”

She didn’t wait for my reply.

“Come.”She gestured toward the living room.“Sit.”