AMORA'S POV;
As I approached my front door, I turned to the man who had escorted me home, trying to muster a smile despite the chaos that still lingered in my mind. "Erm… thank you so much for today," I said, my voice a little shaky. "And please tell your poker-faced friend I said thank you as well."
He looked at me with a hint of confusion, tilting his head slightly. "Poker face?" he asked, clearly puzzled.
"Yes," I nodded, trying to explain. "The man who helped me... is he your boss or something?"
A laugh escaped him, the sound deep and genuine. "Oh, you mean the Alpha?" he asked, still amused. "You don't need to worry about that, Luna."
"Alpha?" I repeated, my brow furrowing in confusion. "Is that his name? And why do you keep calling me Luna?"
He hesitated, the confident demeanor he had displayed earlier faltering slightly. "Erm…" he began, stuttering as if he was trying to find the right words.
Before he could continue, I cut in, trying to lighten the mood. "Oh! I get it," I said, offering my hand with a small smile. "Hi, I'm Amora. I guess you didn't know my name. What's yours?"
He took my hand, his grip firm yet gentle. "I'm Wilder, Luna…" His eyes widened slightly as he realized what he'd said, correcting himself quickly. "I mean, Amora. Sorry."
My brows knitted together in confusion as he called me that strange name again, but I decided to let it go for now. "It's alright," I replied, waving off his apology. He seemed nice enough, even if he was a bit odd.
Wilder reached into his pocket and handed me a small card. "Here's my card. Please call me if you need anything."
I took the card, glancing at it briefly before slipping it into my pocket. "Thank you, Wilder," I said sincerely. I then pointed to the shaky two-story house at the corner of the street, the place I reluctantly called home. "You can leave me here. This is my house. I can't afford my dad seeing me with a man."
He nodded, understanding the unspoken warning. "Alright. Take care, Amora," he said, his tone gentle but protective.
I watched him leave, feeling a mix of relief and confusion. Bidding him goodbye, I let out a long sigh, finally relaxing as I realized I had managed to get the whiskey. Thank goodness.
Once inside, I placed the bottle on the table in the living room, careful not to make too much noise. My dad would expect it later, and I wasn't in the mood for another confrontation. Without a second thought, I headed upstairs to my room, the one place in this house that felt even remotely safe. I quickly changed out of my clothes and jumped onto my mattress, the worn springs creaking beneath me.
As I lay there, trying to clear my mind, the words of that poker-faced guy—Wilder's so-called Alpha—came rushing back. What did he mean by the Moon Goddess pairing us? Was he drunk or something? I groaned, pressing the heels of my hands against my eyes as if I could physically push the thoughts away. How could such a beautiful man be so rude?
Sure, he had saved me, but he acted like I had done something horribly wrong. I knew going to the casino was a mistake, but that was my decision to make. Why did he care so much?
"Forget about it, Amora," I muttered to myself, trying to push the memory of his angry eyes out of my head. "That might be the last time you ever meet him. Get some sleep. Tomorrow, you need to go to the library early."
The library was my sanctuary, especially on weekends. I could lose myself in books, escape from reality, if only for a few hours. I tried to focus on that thought as I closed my eyes, forcing myself to relax. Eventually, my mind began to quiet, and I could feel the pull of sleep dragging me under.
But even as I drifted off, the image of that man—those piercing eyes, the way he had spoken to me—remained, lingering at the edge of my consciousness like a puzzle I couldn't quite solve. I didn't know what any of it meant, and a part of me was afraid to find out. But for now, all I could do was sleep, and hope that tomorrow would bring some much-needed clarity.
I lost track of time completely while working in the library. To my surprise, there were more people there today than ever before, and the hours just slipped away. I knew I couldn't afford another interrogation for being late, so I quickly packed my things, including a book I'd borrowed. Usually, I finish books in one go, but this one was so captivating that I wanted to savor it all over again.
After saying goodbye to David and collecting my payment, I hurried home. Fate had other plans, though—right when I thought I was in the clear, I bumped into my sister. She was dressed up, probably heading out somewhere. It must be nice to have the freedom she enjoys so effortlessly.
"Did your eyes follow your mother to the grave, or something?" she snapped, pulling me out of my thoughts.
"I'm sorry," I murmured, lowering my head.
"Getting bolder, aren't we? Coming home at this hour?" she taunted.
"No, it's nothing like that," I stammered. "We were busy at the library, and I lost track of time."
"Spare me your nonsense," she said with a smirk. "You think no one will ever find out?"
I stared at her, confused by what she was implying.
"Don't play dumb," she hissed, stepping closer until she was right in my face. She gripped my hand tightly and whispered, "I saw you that night—with that man."
My heart stopped. I could barely breathe.
"Now, are you going to deny it? Is he your sugar daddy?" she sneered.
"No… it's not what you think. I don't even know him. He just escorted me home."
"How convenient," she mocked. "A complete stranger brings you home, and you expect me to believe that? Do you think I'm a fool?"
She continued, "You better deal with this with Dad, because I already told him how his daughter's been whoring around."
With a wicked smile, she added, "I have a party to get to. Don't be late, little whore." And with that, she left.
The world spun around me like a storm. No, no, no… Why would she tell Dad such lies? She won't even listen to the truth. I'm doomed.
"Calm down, Amora," I whispered to myself, trying to steady my nerves. "Just explain everything to him. Tell him it's not true."
But the anxiety wouldn't leave me. I was so consumed by it that I nearly slipped in the shower. Why is trouble always knocking on my door?
Hours later, a loud bang shattered the silence.
"Amora!!!"
It was my dad. And he was drunk.
"I know you're awake—open this door now!"
Panic surged through me. Oh no… This is not going to end well.