Chapter 3

I wake to the sound of my phone buzzing violently on the nightstand. The Rose Suite is still dark, the blackout curtains blocking the early morning light. I fumble for my phone, squinting at the screen.

5:47 a.m. Twelve missed calls from St. Mary's Hospital.

My blood turns to ice as I call back, my hands shaking.

"Miss Rossi?" The nurse's voice is urgent. "Your grandmother—she's had a seizure. You need to come immediately."

I'm out of bed before she finishes talking, yanking on yesterday's jeans and a t-shirt from my old clothes. The elevator won't come fast enough. I slam the button repeatedly, panic clawing at my throat.

When the doors finally open, Giovanni is inside, fully dressed in a Tom Ford suit despite the ungodly hour.

"Move," I gasp, trying to push past him.

He catches my arm. "I know. My driver's waiting."

"How—"

"The hospital called me when they couldn't reach you. I'm listed as her emergency contact now." He guides me into the elevator, his hand steady on my lower back. "Dr. Harrison is already with her."

"But the surgery isn't until—"

"He's moving it up. We'll be there in ten minutes."

The ride to the hospital is a blur. Giovanni's Bentley cuts through the empty streets while I sit frozen, my wolf howling in distress. Giovanni doesn't speak, but his hand finds mine, his thumb tracing circles on my palm. The small comfort breaks something in me, and tears start falling.

"She's all I have," I whisper.

"She'll be fine." His voice holds such certainty that I almost believe him. "Harrison is the best. I've made sure of it."

We arrive at St. Mary's to find it transformed. What was a rundown public hospital yesterday now buzzes with efficiency. Private security guards stand at every entrance. Nurses move with purpose. The smell of industrial disinfectant is gone, replaced by something fresher.

"What did you do?" I ask as we're escorted through corridors I don't recognize.

"Bought it," Giovanni says simply. "Last night. Your grandmother deserves better than their public ward."

"You bought a hospital?"

"I bought several. This one just happened to be first."

We reach a private suite where Nonna lies surrounded by machines. She looks so small, so fragile. Dr. Harrison—a silver-haired man who radiates competence—meets us at the door.

"The tumor is causing increased pressure," he explains, his voice calm despite the urgency. "We need to operate now."

"Do it," Giovanni says before I can speak.

"I need family consent—"

"You have it," I interrupt, my voice steady despite my terror. "Whatever she needs."

They wheel Nonna away, and my knees give out. Giovanni catches me before I hit the floor, guiding me to a private waiting room that looks more like a luxury hotel suite than part of a hospital.

"She's going to die," I whisper.

"No." He pulls me against his chest, and I'm too exhausted to resist. "She's going to live, and she's going to dance at our wedding."

"We're not getting married."

"We'll see."

I should pull away, but his arms feel like the only thing keeping me from shattering. His scent wraps around me—pine and winter storms and safety. My wolf stops howling, soothed by our mate's presence.

"Why are you doing this?" I ask against his chest.

"You know why."

"The bond doesn't make you responsible for my family."

"No. But it makes you mine, and I take care of what's mine." His hand strokes through my hair, the gesture surprisingly gentle. "Sleep, piccola luna. I'll wake you when she's out."

"I can't—"

"You can. I'm here."

Exhaustion wins. I fall asleep in the arms of the devil himself, and for the first time in months, I don't have nightmares.

"Giulia."

Giovanni's voice pulls me from sleep. I'm still in his arms, curled against his chest like I belong there. Sunlight streams through the windows—hours have passed.

"She's okay," he says before I can ask. "The surgery was successful. She's in recovery."

Relief hits me so hard I start sobbing. Giovanni holds me through it, his hand rubbing circles on my back, murmuring Italian endearments I don't understand but that soothe something primal in me.

"Can I see her?"

"Soon. Harrison wants her stable first." He pulls back to look at me, thumbing away my tears. "You need to eat."

"I'm not hungry."

"I wasn't asking."

He produces food from somewhere—a gourmet breakfast that seems impossible given we're in a hospital. I eat mechanically, barely tasting it, while Giovanni makes phone calls in rapid Italian. I catch enough to understand he's rearranging his entire day.

"You don't have to stay," I say when he ends his latest call.

"You think I'd leave you alone right now?"

"I'm not your responsibility."

"We've covered this." He leans back in his chair, studying me. "Tell me about Detective Morrison."

The change of subject throws me. "What about him?"

"How did he approach you?"

"At the bar where I work. Worked," I correct, remembering I probably don't have that job anymore. "He knew about Nonna's bills. Said he needed someone with no pack connections to get information on you."

"And you believed him?"

"Desperate people believe a lot of things."

Giovanni's jaw tightens. "He won't bother you again."

The way he says it makes my blood chill. "You didn't—"

"Kill him? No. But he's been transferred to Alaska. Permanently."

"You can't just transfer cops—"

"I can do whatever I want, Giulia. I own this city." He says it matter-of-factly, like he's stating the weather. "Morrison was selling information to the highest bidder. The Crimson Fang Pack, the Silvers, even the vampire covens downtown. He's lucky Alaska was an option."

"Vampires," I repeat flatly.

"You didn't know?" He seems genuinely surprised. "This city is divided into territories. Wolves control the business district and Upper East Side. Vampires have the Village and SoHo. The fae run Brooklyn."

"The fae. Right."

"Your isolation from pack life has left you ignorant of reality." He leans forward. "That changes now. As my mate—"

"Employee."

"—you need to understand the supernatural world. Starting tonight."

"Tonight?"

"The monthly pack gathering. Every wolf in our territory will be there." His smile is sharp. "Time to introduce my Luna to society."

"I'm not your Luna."

"For the next year, you are."

Before I can argue, Dr. Harrison appears. "She's awake. Asking for you."

I practically run to Nonna's room. She looks better already, color returning to her cheeks. Her eyes light up when she sees me.

"Giulietta," she whispers, using my childhood nickname.

"Don't try to talk," I say, gripping her hand.

"Nonsense." Her voice is weak but determined. "Who's the attractive man lurking in the doorway?"

I turn to find Giovanni watching us with an unreadable expression.

"Giovanni Marchetti, ma'am," he says, approaching the bed with old-world courtesy. "It's an honor to meet you."

Nonna's eyes sharpen despite the medication. "Marchetti. You're the one who owns everything."

"Not everything," he says, glancing at me. "Not yet."

"He's my... employer," I say quickly.

"Mmm." Nonna looks between us, and I see the moment she spots the mate bond. Humans can't usually sense it, but Nonna has been around wolves her whole life. "Employer. Of course."

"I should let you rest," Giovanni says, but Nonna catches his hand.

"Thank you," she says simply. "For whatever you've done, whatever it cost. Thank you."

"Family doesn't keep score," he replies, and something in my chest cracks.

He leaves us alone, and Nonna immediately turns her knowing gaze on me.

"That man is not your employer."

"It's complicated."

"Love always is."

"It's not love. It's biology."

She squeezes my hand weakly. "Your mother said the same thing about your father. Right before she left everything behind to be with him."

"That worked out great for her."

"She had twelve happy years and you. She'd say it was worth it."

"Nonna—"

"I'm old, Giulietta, not stupid. That man is your mate. And he's already half in love with you."

"He doesn't even know me."

"He knows enough." She yawns, the medication pulling her under. "Don't run from this. I didn't survive brain surgery to watch you waste a second chance at family."

She falls asleep holding my hand, and I sit there trying not to think about how right Giovanni looked standing beside her bed, calling her family.

The pack gathering is held in a massive warehouse in Queens that's been converted into something between a nightclub and a fight ring. I stand at the entrance in a crimson dress Giovanni selected, feeling like a lamb being led to slaughter.

"Breathe," Giovanni murmurs, his hand on my lower back.

"They're all going to know I don't belong here."

"You belong wherever I say you belong."

We enter to a sea of eyes turning our way. The warehouse holds at least three hundred wolves, and every single one is staring at me. The whispers start immediately.

"Is that—"

"—packless omega—"

"—can't be his mate—"

"—smells wrong—"

Giovanni's hand tightens on my back, and he releases a low growl that silences the entire room. Power radiates from him in waves, his Alpha dominance making lesser wolves bare their throats in submission.

"This is Giulia Rossi," he announces, his voice carrying to every corner. "My mate. My Luna. Anyone who disrespects her disrespects me. And we all know how I handle disrespect."

The threat is clear. The room remains silent.

A woman breaks from the crowd—tall, elegant, with the kind of beauty that belongs on magazine covers. She moves like a predator, all grace and danger.

"Giovanni," she purrs, completely ignoring me. "You can't be serious. This... girl?"

"Careful, Isabella," Giovanni warns.

Isabella laughs, finally looking at me. "She's not even full wolf. I can smell the human on her."

"Which makes her survival more impressive," Giovanni says coolly. "Not everyone needs pure blood to be strong."

"She's weak. Unworthy." Isabella steps closer to me, her wolf flashing in her eyes. "I challenge her for the position of Luna."

The crowd gasps. My blood turns to ice. I know enough about pack law to understand what this means—a fight. To the death, if necessary.

"Accepted," I say before Giovanni can speak.

He turns to me sharply. "Giulia—"

"I accept the challenge." My voice is steady despite my terror. If I back down now, I'll never have respect. And Giovanni will look weak for choosing me.

Isabella smiles, showing too many teeth. "Tonight. Midnight. Don't be late, little mongrel."

She saunters away, and the crowd disperses, returning to their conversations with even more whispers than before.

Giovanni grabs my arm, pulling me into a dark corner. "Are you insane?"

"You said I was your Luna. Lunas don't hide behind their Alphas."

"Isabella has been fighting since she could walk. She's killed three challengers."

"Then I'll be number four or she'll be number one." I meet his furious gaze. "You wanted me to understand pack life? This is it. Violence and dominance."

"I won't let you—"

"You don't let me do anything." I pull free from his grip. "I'm not your possession, Giovanni. I'm your employee. And right now, my job is making sure you don't look weak."

"I don't care about looking weak."

"Liar." I step closer, going up on my toes to whisper in his ear. "You care about power more than anything. And if your mate can't defend her position, what does that say about you?"

His hand shoots out, wrapping around my throat—not hurting, just holding. "You're playing a dangerous game."

"I learned from the best."

His eyes flash gold, and for a moment, I think he's going to kiss me. Or kill me. Maybe both.

Instead, he releases me. "Three hours. We're leaving."

"To go where?"

"To teach you how to fight dirty." His smile is all predator. "If you're going to survive Isabella, you'll need to fight like what you are."

"What am I?"

"Mine," he says simply. "And I don't lose what's mine."