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Like My Father

Prologue Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11

Summary: As a child of an alpha mafia boss, you had been aware of the business and it’s dealings but hadn’t ever thought you were going to have to be part of it. Two months before your 25th birthday, your father informs you that you, an omega, will take over the empire as the new boss and have 6 alpha mates to help you take over and lead

Like My Father: Part 9

Ari had caressed the expanse of your arm from shoulder to wrist, his fingers softly trailing the goosebumps that rose to your flesh while his eyes conveyed every single emotion he was feeling.

Every single pulse of desire and connectivity that has spanned your relationship from the moment you had learned he would be yours, had only deepened in the soft moments on the dimmed dance floor.

He was there, always there.

Just as he was here now, mumbling aesthetically while your head resting on his chest and his heart beat a rhythm that was endearing as it was beautiful.

“You’re brilliant and capable, little princess.” It was only Ari who addressed you like that, it was only Ari who had ever called you his little princess.

“I’m scared, Ari.” With eyes on you and Ari, watchful gazes that were either condescending or curious, you had felt the flickering touch of fear seeping into your flesh.

It was innate, the feeling that you would fail and although Ari promised that if you failed you would fail together, your anxiety and panic-inducing negative tracts told you that you would be alone.

“I know,” he hadn’t denied your fear or even attempt to be condescending about how you were feeling, “you’re not doing this alone. You have all of us, every one of us is here for you.”

“Always?” You wondered, tilting your head to look up at him. “Forever?”

“Until my heart stops beating,” Ari grasped your hand and set it on his chest, right where his heart was, “and until I take my last breath.”

After Ari had departed from you, after you had danced with them all at least once, Andy had found you again.

His hand was warm as it settled upon your back, his eyes brightly captivating your own as he led you from the dance floor to the bar that had been set up. There were already drinks waiting for you, champagne in tall flute glasses with gold dust coating the stem that was set upon fine crystal.

Andy had been the one to escort you and he had been the last you’d danced with, the last of the six alphas who had kept you away from the rest of the party aiming to dance solely with you.

You were aware of the connotations of the party and the people you would have to meet and converse with, to gain new allies and keep the ones your father already had. You would have to mingle and sashay around the crowds to convince them that you were the best person for the job, even if you had felt unsure of it yourself.

“A drink,” Andy had grabbed one of the gold-dusted flutes and handed it to you, his hand was softly and daintily caressing your flesh through your dress while his eyes had bore into yours, “you’re doing amazing.”

“You think so?” You lifted the glass to your lips and sipped on the bubbly within, and then you had angled yourself into Andy.

Your gaze had flitted around the party, watching others drinking and eating in the merriment of the grand event your parents had thrown for you to usher you into the role.

You would be the first omega to take on the head of the empire your father had inherited and built, the first omega who wasn’t married off to form alliances. You didn’t have to go to them, alphas had come to you.

They had been chosen for you by your parents, the best kind of alphas to help shield and protect you as you took on this new role.

And as you were taking your position as the head of the crime family, your father was retiring.

“You should give yourself more credit, you’re ready for this.” Andy’s hand produced warmth that crawled up your back, his eyes burning deep into yours as he held your gaze and leaned in.

His chest had been pressed against yours, the softness of his suit against your skin that was exposed was delightful and had produced a soft shiver. You pressed into him with your palms resting against his chest and angled your head back, brushing your nose against his. You could feel his warm breath dusting across your cheeks, and the sensation of close intimacy between the two of you had deepened with every passing moment that he held your gaze and you held his.

Andy’s baritone hum had delivered another surge of warmth to your core and the gentle scrape of his beard against you as he slated his lips against yours caused a surge of electricity between the two of you.

His lips danced against yours, his left hand cupped your chin and the other had smoothed down the back of your dress to the curve of your ass. You stood flush against him, inhaling his scent that radiates and blanketed you in comfort and desire.

“Tomorrow,” Andy swallowed your whine and pulled away slowly, tapping his thumb against your bottom lip, “we’re going to go over some legal stuff.”

“And tonight?” You wondered, searching his eyes.

“Have fun, sweetheart.” Andy let go of you and then reached for his champagne flute, downing the bubbly and setting it back down with a gentle tsk of the flat bottom against the bar top. “Tomorrow we’ll work.”

You watched him walk away, your hand still wrapped around the stem of the glass while you stood and watched the crowds of people mingling. There was a certain air of expectations that still lingered as a fog worked and swept across the floor. Some were still anticipating a sudden and blinding move your father could make, by announcing that you were mated off and the business would go to your mate.

Others had been caught up to reality and knew that you were the leader and you would be taking over from your father without being thrown at an alpha under the role of subservient housewife.

Disgust had riddled some bitterness while appreciation for the change of designation leadership was held by others.

It had seemed that instead of a spectrum their opinions had died on, it was a single strand with two opposing ends fighting against the other.

Some would love you to be the leader; others would want you dead.

“There’s no in-between, not now. You need to show them one way or another. You can succeed and they will love you or they will want to kill you.” Nick’s forewarning was present, he had told you on multiple occasions that you would be a target in some way or another.

You had stood alone for another moment before you departed the bar, your champagne half drank and abandoned, while you had begun weaving in out of the crowds to cross the room. The heady mix of scents and the watchful eyes that followed you as you moved throughout the room had truly heightened your need for air and an escape.

You needed to feel the cool rush of fresh air against you so you could gather your thoughts and find your grounding again. It was innately hitting you all at once, the feel of your alphas somewhere in the room that were aware of you just as you were aware of them, and the careful scrutinization others had cast on you.

In no small measure had you burst through the doors that led to the garden and at no slow pace had you scurried away from the party.

The cool brush of air against your flesh was what you needed and you could already feel yourself starting to relax as the potent cluster of different scents and designations had been pilfered by the natural aroma of flowers and greenery that was planted in the back. It was the various colours of the fauna that had been carefully crafted and pruned to look as perfect as possible for this event that had garnered your attention.

You had stepped onto the pad of the seating area between overhanging trees and colourful buds which were illuminated by delicate hanging lights before you approached one of the hand-carved wooden swings that hung between two thick corded trunks, the bench seat decorated with elaborate pillows and a sherpa blanket for warmth.

It was out here that you found your temporary rest, a reprieve from the ordinance and the overwhelming draw of the party. You had started to swing back and forth gently, using the spikes of your heels to push yourself forward and catch yourself on the return, repeating this process while listening to the idle chatter that had all seemed like a blur, radiating slowly from the interior of your parent’s estate.

The only time you had looked away from the night sky or the beauty of the garden was when you had caught movement from the corner of your eyes. Your father was stepping out into the garden, his hands tucked into his pockets as he walked while the slight stain of your mother’s lipstick had dusted the mate mark on his neck. She was just as protective and possessive of your father as he was of her.

“You always loved this swing,” your dad had come to sit next to you, casually draping an arm around your shoulders to pull you into his embrace, “you did a lot of thinking out here.”

“When I was here,” you quipped, leaning into him nonetheless.

“I tried to do right by you and your mama,” he turned his head and kissed into your hair, his gentle nature was a direct contrast to the reputation he had built for himself, “I love you and your mother, I want what’s best for you.”

“Do you really think this was the best decision? Dad, I didn’t even…I wasn’t a constant presence here and you tried to keep me at a distance from this all. Do you really think I am the best choice?”

Your question was met by a gentle hand and a gentle hum, the comfort of your father had soothed your inner conflict. He had poured everything he could into creating a safety net for your mama and you, for the great loves of his life and despite him being incapable of witnessing a great number of your accomplishments, you knew he sent his love.

“I’ve thought a lot about this, Y/N.” He kissed into your hair again, gently rubbing your bare arm for warmth. “You are the only one I would choose. You are the only one I would ever want to give this to.”

“I’m your only child.” You angled your head and glanced up at him, staring at the man who had given you the world. “Who else would you have given it to?”

“No one.” Your father claimed and nuzzled his cheek against your head. “I would have never married you off like a pawn. I know how destructive you would have become and even if you hadn’t rained hell of your arranged mate and husband, you deserve more respect than that.”

“But you did arrange my mates.” You argued and gently nudged him, stirring a hearty laugh.

“You’re right, I did. However you are not the subservient housewife another alpha would have turned you into. You have the power, you’re the boss. They’re your alphas but in the end you should know that you have a hold on each of them. And I chose mates for you that would have your best interests at hand, good alphas who would keep you safe and help you thrive.”

“What are you going to do now that you’re retired?” You wondered, happily swinging in the peacefulness with your father.

“Take your mama on a long trip. It’s been a while since we’ve gotten to get away just the two of us and no real responsibilities.”

“Mama’s gonna love it.” You sighed and slowly picked up your feet, leaning fully into your dad. “She deserves it.”

“Yes,” your father agreed, “your mama does.”

A passing few moments of peace and comfortable silence had come between the two of you before it was broken by the sound of footsteps echoing on the stone walkway, and the subtle hitch of your heart fluttering rhythmically had been a sign that one of your alphas was approaching. You had raised your head when he had come into view, butterflies in your stomach and your breath hitching had been symptoms of seeing him stand waiting for you.

“Bucky.” You mumbled his name softly, watching him as carefully as he was watching you.

“That’s my queue.” Your father had slowly pulled away from you to stand, straightening his suit jacket and tie before he approached your alpha and rest his hand on his shoulder.

Your father had muttered something quietly to Bucky in passing, a subtle nod of your alphas head before the two of you were left alone and your father’s place had been taken by Bucky.

“You should know,” he turned his head toward you, his eyes reflecting the gentle and soft glow of the hanging lights around the garden, “Nick has had a busy night.”

“sh*t,” you cursed and started to push yourself to sit up further, “what happened?”

“Few drunken alphas,” Bucky slid closer to you, reaching behind his back to grab one of the folded blankest, “a few threats that needed to be dealt with.”

“I’m sorry, you should’ve told me.” You whispered between the two of you, shivering from the caress of his hands against yours as he draped the blanket around you.

“Nick can handle it, it’s what we’re here for.” Bucky had reiterated and like your father, had gently pulled you into his side. “We’re all here for you, you just have to let us be.”

“I’m working on it.” You rest your head against his shoulder and closed your eyes, breathing him in before you asked a question unrelated to tonight. “What was your favourite memory from London?”

You could hear Bucky’s heartbeat, you could feel the shift of his scent as it reacted to yours. You could feel the roughness of his palm that was soft against you and the draw of his pretty blue eyes as he studied you.

“My favourite memory of London was heading to a hole in the wall kind of pub and meeting an omega who had been jerked around by an asshole.”

Bucky had squeezed your shoulder before he let you completely relax against him, relaying the story you knew and lived. “It was rainy, cold…”

You lay there against him, revelling in the moment until the clutch of sleep had taken you.

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Like My Father: Part 11

A/N: Violence and a few triggering topics/conversation in the second half

“I haven’t spent much time in here.” You observed, trailing your fingertips along the edge of the storage cabinet along the far wall, the rows of books stacked neatly on dark shelves had spines illuminated with silver or gold letters.

Across from the shelves and the storage cabinet were two matching love seats made of soft white leather and dark cotton throw pillows that had been set against the puckered armrests. There was a single folded blanket that had been set in the middle of the couch on the left, the flannel pattern a clashing distinction from the rest of the room.

The desk was stationed near the back of the room, and there were matching storage cabinets behind the desk that matched the dark wood aesthetic.

In the open-faced cabinets were some files that had been set in clear bins, a few framed degrees and other legal forms that would aid Andy and the ‘family’ in general. On the desk was a closed laptop with a phone to the right, the device was connected to the landline and security system that was still used throughout the house.

“Your father did his best to protect you from this world.” Andy had closed the door behind you both, his footsteps muffled on the area rug that sat below the couches and met the edge of the door.

When he had stepped off the area rug onto the hardwood, you had winced softly at the sound that hit your ears with grating irritation. Despite the coffee and the pastry that you had eaten, you were still dealing with the lingering aftereffects of the drugging, and it was affecting you almost as if you were suffering a hangover.

“If he wanted to protect me from this world, then why did he give it to me?” You turned slowly and settled your gaze upon Andy, watching him attempt to keep the noise down as he pulled the rolling leather chair out from under the desk to sit on the cushion.

Even as he had lifted the laptop and began to type on the device, giving whatever credentials he needed to have access, he tried to be quiet. You watched him focus, his eyebrows furrowed and his lips pursed with all the telltale signs of a man who was concentrating on the task at hand like the seasoned lawyer he was.

“Andy,” you stepped forward, drawing yourself nearer to the desk, “do you think my dad made a mistake? Do you think he should have just…married me off?”

Andy had raised his head and looked at you with the same furrowed brows and pursed lips, only instead of being focused and concentrating, he had appeared confused. He leaned forward and rest his elbows on the desk with his fingers intertwined and resting under his chin, he was watching you with intense focus.

He was giving you the entirety of his attention, looking at nothing but you while the facet of emotion in his eyes shifted, and his scent was radiating and pulsating with comfort and ease, he was your alpha and he knew you needed comfort. He was waiting for you to finish, he had every right to cut you off and degrade your worries as an alpha. He could have very well shot you down with an alpha command, one that would have settled in your skin with no chance of ignoring the demand.

He could have overstepped and taken those liberties with you because of the differences in your designations, other alphas had done worse to omegas, and other alphas have demanded more.

“No,” his voice was even and he spoke with unkempt truth.

“Honey, your father would have never done that to you. Your father believed that you could do this. He didn’t want to see you married off to someone who would try and tamper your spirit and that fire. He knew that this whole family, this empire, needed an omega. Despite what everyone else may think, despite what they may all believe, you were purposely chosen for this. Your father didn’t want anyone else to do this, he knew that you could and you would be the only one he would ever give this to.”

“And you? And you all?” You questioned them, even if you had already been reassured of everything. You were in charge now, this was your responsibility and if you had failed it would be your failure.

“We’re all here for you.” Andy had tucked his chin into his chest and drew in a soft breath. “You are ours and we are yours.”

“Everything we do, we do together.”

“If you fail,” Andy had whispered to you, “we all fail. We’re here for you, we’re all here for you.”

You nodded your head and shuffled toward one of the chairs in front of the desk and slowly sat down on the cushioned surface before you tucked your feet under. You had drawn your bottom lip into your mouth and nibbled on your flesh, your eyes captivated by some of the artwork that was on the walls.

There was lingering silence between you two, lingering quietude that had remained comfortable enough for you to be able to focus on the mess in your head and the interior design of the office your father had once loved.

“I don’t understand this, I hate this. This is so stupid.” Your frustration had come out as a huff, and the book in your hands was tossed to the couch.

“You’re not trying.” Ari had gently scolded you from behind the desk, his gaze flickering from the computer to you and your position halfway off the couch.

“I don’t want to try, Ari. I don’t want to try. I want to forget this and get ice cream.” You turned your head and blew out a puff of air, annoyed while rolling your eyes when he laughed and shook your head.

“Nice try, finish your homework.”

“Blowhard.” You muttered under your breath and pushed yourself back on the couch, flopping down on the cushions and then you reached under your back and removed the book from where it was trapped.

“You can have ice cream when you’re done.” Ari had relayed the hopefulness when you had opened the book and held it above your face, however, you were far less interested in reading as you were pressing him for a few ins and outs of the business.

Before you could even open your mouth to speak, the office door had flown open with a large crash and a man was dropped to the carpet uncouthly. Ari immediately stood and walked around the front of the desk, tension in his shoulders and back as he moved toward the door.

“Get him the f*ck out of here.” Ari had hissed, standing between you and the man laying on the carpet, blocking you from seeing what was going on while his scent and the prowess of his designation had kept you frozen in place.

“Ari-“

“Now!” He growled and shoved one of your father’s men back, only briefly glancing over his shoulder toward you and then he looked away. “Get him the f*ck out of here, now.”

The limp man was lifted from the floor and the door was slammed with a solid thud that rattled a few pictures on the wall. Stunned silence had fallen between you two, your mouth opened and closed a few times as you fought for any words to become vocalized. There was so much you wanted to know and ask, so much you wanted to dive into but no words would form on your tongue.

At least, not until Ari had turned and ran his fingers through his hair. “You wanna skip this and get ice cream?”

“Uhh…yeah. Yeah.” You snapped the book shut and discarded it, quick to stand and shuffle toward him.

“Good, get your things.”

Brick and mortar were the perfect substance to act as the grater for skin and bone. It was a single strike that had him sent flying into the rough surface, and the cry that followed hit their ears. Neither one was apologetic, neither one had any qualms about spilling blood and cutting flesh, not when they had questions that needed to be answered.

“You have two minutes.”

“I don’t know! I don’t know! I don’t-“ Their target had cried in protest, pleading with them despite being one of the men on shift when the bottles had been filled and corked.

The local brewery and winery had been a favourite of their guests, and until now it had been without fail. Until the moment someone had slipped roofies into the bottles before they were corked, there was never a doubt for the local favourite.

“You were here, you knew something.”

“There are cameras! Check the cameras!” He squealed and drew in a sharp breath when Ari lifted him from the ground and held him against the wall.

Ari had looked back at Nick as he began unsheathing one of his favourite knives, the glint of the metal surface reflecting the sun’s rays.

“We already checked the cameras and they were found faulty. Now, you were on shift and everyone you work with has thrown you under the bus. You can either tell us who gave you the brilliant idea or Nick will start cutting nonessential pieces off of you.”

“I’m starting with his dick, he doesn’t need it.” Nick had stepped toward the target and turned the knife in his hands, allowing the decrepit man to visually see the weapon that was going to be used on him.

“He’s losing patience, now-“

“I don’t know! I don’t know his name! Please, f*ck-!” He whimpered in Ari’s tight hold, his feet dangling above the ground as the inability to breathe had become stronger when Ari tightened his hand around his throat.

“I got a message, a text asking if I want to make some money. I was told to spike the drink and send it to the party, I didn’t know-“

“He’s lying, you’re lying. You better start telling the truth or you’ll find yourself missing an invaluable piece.” Nick had stood on the other side of Ari, his fingers wrapped tightly around the hilt of the knife.

“I can usually make it easy on a person but for you-“ Nick glinted, he had tilted his head and cast his darkening blue eyes upon the quaking prick.

“I’m telling the truth! I swear! I have the message, I have-“ he shook in Ari’s hands, quaking and whining as he begged for release.

“The message is gone.” Ari’s fingers flexed, and his hand tightened as the man attempted to claw and strike at him.

“It was an alpha!” His hands loosened on his body, his mouth parted as he hastily sucked in air. “AN ALPHA!”

“What alpha?” Nick’s jaw clenched, the veins in his neck protruding as a settled force of rage was starting to course in his body. “What f*cking alpha?”

“O-one who was b-betting on having your bitch-“

“Cut out his tongue.” Ari dropped the quim to the ground, allowing Nick to step forward and press the blade of the knife against his lips.

“You should mind how you speak to her. She has a lot of power at her fingertips.”

“I-its not m-me. It’s his words.” He raised his hands in protest, begging Nick and Ari for mercy. “He called her a bitch. He said that he was expecting to bed the bitch and inherit it all.”

“Cut off his dick and his tongue.” Ari’s clear and crisp voice heralded his calm fury. He was pissed beyond all measure but he was controlled, his anger was bedded down under great restraint.

“I told you everything! I told you everything I know!” He pleaded with Nick, his voice getting muffled when a dirty rag was shoved into his mouth.

“Keep your hands still, I don’t want you dying from this.” Nick placed his foot on the target’s chest and cut away the fabric of his jeans, exposing his withering dick to the open air.

“You know,” Nick raised his head and locked eyes with their prey, “we’re not just doing this for our boss. We know things about you, a lot of dirty details that your rich daddy had covered up.”

“You like them young, don’t you?” Ari spat at him, disgusted and vigorously pissed off at the sick man trapped against the ground. “You need to learn how not to f*ck with vulnerable people.”

His cries came as Nick pressed the tip of the knife against the poor bastard’s flesh, drawing a few pebbles of blood.

“Trust me, this is good for everyone.” Nick pressed harder, he worked the blade over and over like he intended while their target thrashed and screamed into the cloth.

Nick had stood back once his first task was done, cutting off the ill-gotten member and wrapping it in a cloth. He had stared down at the weeping target, Nick’s lips stretching into a smirk before he whistled for Ari.

“You need to be marked, you need to wear your charges so everyone knows.” Nick grabbed his right arm and lifted it while Ari helped him hold the bastard down.

He pressed the knife to flesh again and carved out the disgusting and revolting word into his forearm, marking him permanently with the engrained and damning charge.

“Now everyone will know what a piece of sh*t you are.” Nick wiped the blood off the knife and spat it on their victim’s body. “You disgusting f*cking pedophile.”

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Like My Father: Part 8

The fervid hands of time attached to a pearlescent face trapped behind flawless glass reminded you of the mocking turtle from Alice In Wonderland. The fervid turtle that had made Alice’s life a great pain had seemingly personified the hands that were moving ever quickly toward the hour of your debut.

It was the unfair pace of time that had decreased the time you had to prepare, the months, weeks and days into a languid blink that had come to the focal point of all your training.

It felt too soon, you hadn’t felt nearly as prepared as you had needed to be and in the day leading up to the debut, you had been mindful of the never-ending caterers and planners that had come and gone.

The endless stream of vendors that had worked their magic on the estate, turning it from the part-time home you had known into the heavily decorated and curated arena in which your father would transfer the power he held to you, and in that exchange would come an entirely new stream of responsibilities.

A great weight that hadn’t yet been felt in its entirety was starting to settle upon you with barbs that dug under your flesh the longer you thought of it, the longer you had watched and waited as the hired vendors had decorated and prepared.

To them, it was a canvas, blank and ready to be transformed.

To you, the house held memories. To you, every place had a memory lingering within the walls and it felt as if every added detail was smothering what you had known.

The staircase that was decorated with delicate lights wrapped around the wooden banister, illuminating the fine fabric draped elegantly along the walls, was the same banister you and Curtis had slid down countless times to race each other.

The kitchen where your mother’s old tea set had been displayed, was now taken by a vast amount of expensive hors d’oeuvres on silver platters, and bubbly champagne that the event planner had ordered special from Italy. There was a distinct lack of what had made your part-time home, a home.

The days you had spent here in the estate, and not in the secondary home with your mother, away from the business, had felt like they were being evaporated like a fine mist.

The phantom memory of you staying up late in the kitchen, hiding with your favourite ice cream after you lost your dance competition, was overshadowed.

Curtis finding you after you lost that last year you spent together, wherein he had planted himself beside you and comforted you with some cheesy jokes he had heard, was overshadowed.

Meeting Bucky back stateside, and being completely blindsided by his appearance after meeting him the first time in London, was overtaken by the sight of heavily arranged flowers.

This place you had known, had gone through its transformation and every lingering memory of what had made you, shaped you, was overlain with elegance and daintiness.

“If you’re thinking of running, we should leave now.” A voice you recognized and had still harboured anger for had come from behind you, his voice and scent giving you comfort that you were not yet ready to welcome so easily. “I’m sure if we steal some fireworks we could create a big enough distraction.”

“You think so?” Your voice was quiet and stilled as you spoke, your eyes fixated on the view of the garden from your bedroom, the stone-built fountains in the back had been illuminated by soft discs of light coming from beneath the water.

The garden in the back was well taken care of, decorated just as elegantly and seamlessly as the interior and the peaceful milling of all designations as they wandered from within the estate to the open air, had been languid at best. They were waiting for your arrival at the party, eager to see if your father would give you everything or if he would change his mind and marry you off.

No one had known what to expect from this night, not even you.

“I was expecting you to throw me off the balcony.” Curtis approached slowly, his hand tucked into his pockets, and you could see him through the reflection of the glass. He was already dressed in a fine-cut three-piece suit that had aided his already natural beauty, the picturesque image of your alpha looking tall and broad, immaculate in Armani.

“You look good.” You didn’t have the energy for animosity, you didn’t have the gull to fire back at him in anger. “Suits you.”

“You look beautiful, Y/N.” Curtis had complimented you in exchange, looking you up and down studiously. “The robe is an odd choice.”

“Shut up.” You spoke with sombreness, reaching out to smack his shoulder as he came to stand next to you and then you leaned in, resting your head against his arm. “I’m scared, Curtis.”

“I know.” There was still so much anger, so much betrayal you felt for how he had left you, and yet you couldn’t tap into it. Not now, not tonight.

“Here, if it helps…” Curtis had pulled away and reached into his right pocket, slowly pulling his hand out with a familiar blue and yellow banded bracelet, his initials set in the embroidery thread.

“You still have it?” the friendship bracelet you had made him all those years ago in one of your hideouts was resting flat in his palm, the colours still bright and the threads looking new.

“I can help you put it on.” He offered and you held out your hand, shivering pleasantly as his fingers brushed against your wrist while he secured it.

“Thank you.” You inhaled and exhaled slowly, breathing slowly and even to keep your nerves a bay. “For this.”

“You can go back to hating me tomorrow.” Curtis had leaned in and brushed his lips against your cheek, the fluttering of your heart and the flip of your stomach end over end, was another betraying sensation that made you question your anger for him. “You’re going to be okay, baby. I know you will.”

The dress felt like a second skin as it was wrapped around your body, draping you in elegance and sophistication that was tactilely planned. The dress rest off your shoulders with a neckline that mirrored a sweetheart, dipping to show a moderate amount of cleavage and the swell of your breasts.

The bodice of the dress had continued with the same beautiful material that fell to the floor and had seemed simple in its conception, however, the added décolletage added details that emphasized the seductiveness.

The high slit on the right had exposed your leg to your upper thigh, and the minute choice to have such a high skirt had added to the overall beauty. It was made for you, tailor designed by Jefferson who had known exactly what to add and what to avoid to make you feel as beautiful and powerful as you truly were.

It was a captivating piece and it was hard not to feel breathtaking in the crafted gown that he had made for you, for your great debut.

“Are you ready?” They were waiting for you, they were all waiting for you to head down the staircase and make your first appearance as the leader of this empire or be carted off as a housewife by your father

“No,” you had taken one more step toward the staircase, waiting for Andy to escort you down, “not really. But I don’t have a choice.”

“Well,” one of the stylists who had been hired to get you dressed speaks as he fluffs your dress and fixes a few pieces in your hair, “at least you’ll look good.”

You don’t have a chance to retort, to speak in your defence before Andy appears to the left. He’s dressed just as immaculately as Curtis is, broad shoulders and firm chest enveloped in a black three-piece dolce suit with a deep royal blue tie. His hair of coiffed and kept out of his face, his blue eyes brightened by the lights overhanging the stairs.

“You should mind your tongue, beta.” Andy’s voice takes an edge as he casts his steely glare toward the stylist who balks and backs away, intimidated by your alpha. “You look beautiful, sweetheart.”

Andy slips an arm around your waist and steadies his fingers against your waist. He’s holding you against him and his lips graze the shell of your ear as his chest rumbles, his voice stirring endearing warmth in your belly.

“You’ve got this, Y/N. You’re ready even if you don’t think you are. You are capable, you are brilliant.”

“I’m scared, Andy.” You shared the same sentiment with him as you did with Curtis, turning your head to lock eyes with him. “I don’t know if I can do this.”

“You can,” he cupped your cheek and brushed his thumb back and forth tenderly, “we all have faith in you. We know you can do this.”

“I’m just an omega,” you argued, turning into his embrace, “who’s going to listen to an omega?”

“You’re not just an omega,” he corrected you, nudging his nose against yours, “you are more than just an omega. You are a brilliant and beautiful woman, you’re compassionate and kind. You are capable, you are determined and you can do this.”

“What if I fail? What if I screw up?” Your question was met with warmth and tenderness, gentility as he leaned his forehead against yours.

“We’re in this together, all of us. If you fail, we fail.” Andy stroked your cheeks as he pulled away, just enough to kiss your forehead, to let his lips linger adoringly.

When the time had come to start descending the stairs, to make your grand debut, his hand had lifted from your waist. Andy had offered you his arm as support, helping steady you as you took each stair one at a time, the crowd of whispers and gentle murmuring hitting your ears with anxiousness.

The stirring mixture of heady scents and the lingering waft of roasted meat and spices from the kitchen was creating a cacophonous array that had furthered your rising anxiety. You were expected to do great things, to be this great leader and you felt unprepared up until this moment.

“Presented for the first time,” the emcee’s voice had pilfered through the sound system as you walked with Andy, as you were escorted to the beginning entrance of the grand event, “the head of the estate and family-“

“Relax,” Andy crooned in your ear, “you’ve got this.”

“-Y/N L/N.” eyes were on, all of their eyes were on you as you stepped into the light with Andy by your side.

There was a wall of people to your left and your right, a sea of spectators that were here for you. Everywhere you looked there were people of all designations waiting for you to make your ascent into the thick of the party. Everyone you could see was dressed immaculately and yet while they were fixated on you, you were searching the crowds for the rest of your alphas.

“Nick,” you exhaled in relief when you saw him standing on the edge, just as put together as the rest, with his hand hovering above a pistol hidden in his jacket, “thank God.”

“You’re safe,” the mutter was nearly indistinguishable as he mouthed his statement, still hardened as ever, “keep your wits about you.”

You swallowed thickly, furthered toward the garden as another familiar face had come from the right. Jefferson had been further down, his blue eyes crinkled at the corners and a prideful smirk playing at his lips. His craftsmanship was as breathtaking as ever, his skills endless.

“You make the dress, sugar.” He stopped you long enough to fix the sleeve, tugging it down to perfection. “Give ‘em hell.”

Bucky and Curtis's presence was felt but not seen, they were well within the crowds of people keeping their eyes open for potential threats. You hadn’t had a conversation with Bucky before you got dressed however the weight of the words he had spoken before in your hideaway deep within the estate had still rung true.

When you and Andy had come to a stop at the centre of the garden, under the glow of moonlight and the delicate fairy lights hanging above, he had turned to you and lift your hand to his lips, kissing the back softly.

“We’ll all have an opportunity to dance with you,” Andy’s lips lingered, his eyes boring into yours, “but I believe there’s one alpha you haven’t seen yet.”

Andy had departed, and Ari took his place.

He was a giant before you, beautiful and broad in a Tom ford suit with a tie that brought out the green in his eyes. He was ready for you, ready to match your elegance and sophistication and bring in the very first dance of the night.

“I am so proud of you,” Ari had praised you, his hand set against your back pulling you toward him while his other hand held yours, “we’re all proud of you, princess.”

“Did you have to kick their ass to get the first dance? Or persuade them with your pretty eyes?”

“I may be old, but I can still handle my own.” His eyes bore into yours, his hands tightened against your back and your hand.

“You’re not old, Ari.” You countered, breathlessly letting him lead as the music started and the first dance was upon you.

“Maybe not,” he agreed, and studied you closely, “but i would still burn the world for you.”

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Like My Father: Part 1

The usual stone driveway with a single slight curve led to the house was the refreshing sight you needed after the trip to Aspen. The magnificent mountain ranges and the picturesque views could only act as a distraction from the aftermath of the one-night stand and the minimal anxiousness you had been riddled with when it seemed like someone was watching you.

Nattie had claimed you were paranoid, and you were remiss to agree with her.

Still, despite the one-night stand that had delivered a better night of sex than you had in a long time, and the feeling of being studied, Aspen was beautiful. And you felt lucky enough to go again in the same cabin.

Now that you were home, however, you were eager to be out of the mountains and the torrential snow. You were anxious to be home in your bed, or at least the bed at your mom’s place, and have you disuse Thursday afternoon coffee breaks with Nattie. You missed hearing all the gossip she chose to spill and then return home to crash in front of the fireplace with a stack of books.

“Home,” you walked toward on the driveway, briefly casting your eyes upon the single black SUV with darkened windows sitting in the driveway, and had immediately thought that perhaps your dad was here.

The vehicle was parked on an angle, the windows blacked out and nearly impossible to make out the interior of the car; however, you had noted the thickness of the glass that had briefly caught the light before the sun passed behind clouds.

If it had been your dad coming to pay your mom and yourself a visit, it was unwarranted and unplanned. You usually had a warning when your dad was coming and could prepare yourself for the usual round of questioning and the comments that you had grown and changed. It was a pleasant visit, and you would answer all the questions with honesty and please your dad when he was there.

You would spend a day at your mom’s place with him and then leave for your apartment, allowing them some privacy to talk. It was a routine you had gotten used to and had almost looked forward to, if not for the sake of returning to your life and allowing your dad to live his life while you lived yours.

When you approached the steps that would lead you to the front door, you inhaled slowly and filled your lungs with air before you exhaled just as languidly. You walked up the steps and approached the door, resting your hand against the brass handle, your thumb against the smooth flat tongue before you pushed it down and bumped the door with your hip, granting access to her place.

“Mama?” You called out once you slipped through the door, your voice carrying, and as you closed the door behind you with a soft click, you had taken a pause.

You could pick up on the scent of alphas, multiple alphas hanging around your mom’s place, yet there was no indication that they had been here long. The mix of alpha scents had seemed somewhat familiar to you in some frame of mind; you were unaware of how you had known them. The mix wasn’t off-putting, but it was a dense concoction that had stirred your curiosity and your awareness that your mother had likely invited them in for one reason or another.

“Mama?” You called again and set your weekender bag down by the front door before you slipped your shoes off and kicked them to the side, the squeak of the rubber soles on the floor seeming more intense than they were naturally.

“In the living room!” Your mom’s soft voice had called you, and with nervousness, you had wiped your hands on your jeans before you inched forward slowly.

There were three alphas here, no scent had belonged to your father, and that was the source of your anxiousness. The slight prick under your flesh that had the primordial portion of yourself that told you you knew them was driving the spark of insecurity.

You knew the alpha you slept with too, yet you couldn’t place his face or his name.

With every step, your attention has bounced between the pictures hanging on the walls and every memory that had flooded your brain with each recognizable moment.

Pictures of your dance recitals throughout the years had been hung in dark wood frames, the years displayed near the bottom until you had stopped just after you turned 16. The last year you danced was one of your favourite recitals with your favourite costume. The costume was handstitched with cherry blossoms on the bodice and the skirt, and the colour had glistened when it caught the light.

It was your favourite, and when you had dropped out of dance entirely, that had been the only costume you kept safely tucked away in the closet in your bedroom.

You stood on the edge of the living room, your eyebrows furrowing the longer you had fixated on the alphas you could not see yet could sense. The longer you had been wrapped up in the traces of scent that cling to the walls of your mom’s home, that had seemed to penetrate every square inch of the path they had taken, the longer you had become discomfited.

Three alphas with three different varying scents.

One that smelled of parchment and ink from a pen, sandalwood and coffee.

Another smelled of spices and tea, slightly burnt sugar and vanilla.

The last smelled of teakwood and citrus, the subtle smell of burning wood and apples.

“Mama,” you stepped into the living room and had all eyes on you, every face had turned to face you, “what’s going on?”

The first alpha you had seen was sitting on the couch across from your mom wearing a well-made and well-fitting waistcoat over a white dress shirt, the waistcoat accentuated by silk-wrapped buttons that stood out against the delicate black material. He was an alpha with brown-black coiffed hair styled on his head and electric blue eyes that almost seemed to match the blue of the teacup he was holding. His jaw was finely cut, and wasn’t a single hair that had lined his jaw or obscured his natural debonair.

“My baby’s back!” Your mom beamed and stood, righting the well-fitting sundress she wore, her hands folded in front of her as she moved, yet falling to her sides as she came to stand in front of you, studying you. “How was Aspen?”

“Fine.” Your answer was short and clipped, your suspicions of the three alphas in the room drawing more speculation than you intended. “Mama, what’s going on?”

“You remember Ari,” she stood to the side and looped her arm in with yours, and your eyes had naturally moved toward the alpha, who was the biggest in the room.

“Uh uh.” You nodded your head and bit down on the inside of your cheek. “I remember.”

“Been a while, princess.” His deep, husky voice had been a sound you had long forgotten could rip shivers from you.

Ari, a good friend of your dad’s, was younger than your father but older than yourself. He had looked larger than you remembered, with his impressive height topping off at around 6’5” or 6’6”, and the sheer width of his shoulders had drawn your hesitant attention as you noted the correlation between his size and upper body strength that his equally muscular torso and legs hadn’t outdone.

His brown-blonde hair had been brushing against the nape of his neck, and the full beard he sported hadn’t just made him seem like any ordinary alpha but an alpha who was equally strong and confident without being conceited.

Ari Levinson was an alpha you used to have a crush on. Though, you weren’t going to hide the fact that even after all these years, he was incredibly easy on the eyes.

“Andy Barber, you’ve met him before, haven’t you?”

The door closed behind you more forcefully than you had intended, but the shake of your legs and the heat of the summer that had beaten down on you restricted your care. You hadn’t paid any attention to who may have been in the house or who may have been watching; you were focused on an after-run routine of water and a cold shower.

As you had approached the fridge, with your headphones in your ear, you had yanked open the door and reached for a bottle. The moment your hand touched the cold plastic, you had pulled it out of the fridge and pressed the side to your cheeks.

The summer heat and everything you’d spent on the run had left you tired yet driven. You’d kept the water on your cheek and closed your eyes as you rested your lower back against the curve of the island and exhaled slowly.

Music was reverberating in your ears through your small in-ear speakers, the beat and the fast-paced singing of the artist acting as noise cancellation for the outside world, and you had been so focused on the aftermath of your run, on cooling down, that you had remained blissfully unaware that you were being watched.

“Miss L/N,” when you felt a hand against your shoulder, an ungodly shriek ripped from your lips, and the bottle of water went flying from your hands.

You whipped yourself around and clung to the island with an iron grip as your legs threatened to give out from under you. Your eyes had been cast upon an alpha in a dark blue suit with a matching tie and a head of dark brown hair that was styled messily, and you were torn between cursing out this handsome alpha who had shocked you or reacting with anger and spite.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” You shrieked again, your heart thrashing in your chest. “You come into people’s houses without knocking, and them give them a heart attack?!”

“I was already here,” the alpha smiled cordially and picked up your water bottle, sliding it across the counter toward you, “whether you saw me-“

“God!” You grabbed the water bottle and tucked it under your arm before you created distance between yourself and him. “Gave me a heart attack!”

“I’ve met him once before.” You mumbled and looked away, reminiscing with cringing likeness.

“And Jefferson.”

He was just as handsome as the other two alphas, but he seemed closer in age with you than with them, though it didn’t appear as if there was a significant difference. He was tall, like the other two, yet he hadn’t seemed as outwardly stacked as Ari, and he wasn’t as tall as Andy. His eyes, however, were brighter.

“Mama,” you inched closer to her and questioned her intentions, your nails digging into the seams of your jeans, “what is going on?”

“Your father wants to speak to you at the estate.” Your mom drew her hands from your arms and took a wide birth around the back of the couch to sit once again; then you heard the rhythmic ‘tap tap tap’ of her hand against the couch to get you to sit.

“Couldn’t I have gone there then?” You looked from Jefferson to Ari and then Andy. “Saved me some time.”

“He’s not quite ready yet. Besides, I wanna hear about Aspen.” Your mom’s gaze became pointed, and you had slowly moved around the couch to sit beside her, and once you had, you tucked your hands into your lap.

“Aspen was fun. It always is.” Your answers were short and straightforward, your attention seeming to gravitate toward the alphas naturally.

“Meet anyone?”

Your mind immediately draws to the one-night stand you had, and the visible wince and shallow hiss gather your mom’s attention, her hand falling to your thigh.

You knew him; you know you had.

“No one worth mentioning, mama.” You sighed and leaned back, crossing your arms over your chest. “What does he want to talk about anyway? You text me asking me to come over instead of going home-“

“Your father needs to discuss something with you.” Your mom squeezed your thigh and beamed at Jefferson, almost pridefully. “After we have tea and you catch up with Ari and Andy and get to know Jefferson.”

Like My Father: Part 6

“You’re not an alpha are you?” Soft eyes stared back at you, gently speculating as the thin and lithe boy had sat cross-legged in front of you. There was a book held upside down in his hands as he frowned and tilted his head.

“I am too an alpha. Why? Don’t I look like an alpha?”

“You don’t look like any of the alphas I’ve seen.” You huff and cross your arms over your chest while you look around the hidden safe space you had discovered in your father’s estate, and Curtis had been the first boy you had brought here, eager to show him your hideaway.

“I am an alpha.” Curtis had scowled and closed the book with a snap and set it on the cushion beside him.

“Then you’re a small alpha.” You had nodded your head, deciding once and for all that he was bound and determined to be that size for the rest of his life, and no longer interested in arguing about it.

“I’m not always going to be a small alpha, but you are always going to be an annoying omega.” Curtis had made the rebuttal and batted your hand away when you had attempted to swipe him, completely bypassing you as he stood and stretched.

“You’re an ass.” You had mumbled under your breath, watching him freeze, his eyes narrowing in your direction.

“Your ma know you curse?” He had tilted his head, his dark blonde hair cut short and sightly spiked as he crouched near you. “I bet she would like to know-“

You had cut him off with the propulsion of the book closest to you being launched at his face, and you hadn’t waited for him to recover before you were up and scurrying out of the room, laughing at his expense as you had made your way through one door and then the other, slamming it shut to give yourself more time to outrun him.

When you had come to the other side, you had scampered out of the hidden door and pushed yourself flush to the wall, hearing him coming after you. Your hands had been pressed against the wall, and you had bitten down on your bottom lip as he had followed you. When the door had been shut and had once again become seamless with the wall, Curtis had turned toward you and fixed his eyes in a semi-serious glare, his nostrils flaring as he took one step toward you and then another.

“You cheated.”

“You’re too slow.” You had stuck out your tongue and stepped away from him, the back and forth battle between gaining and losing ground had come to an end when you had darted toward the stairs and subtly missed him only managing to save yourself by sitting on the railing and sliding down the smooth wood to the lower floor.

“You’re such a cheater!” Curtis’ voice had echoed in the room and you were temporarily pleased with yourself before you had turned and ran straight into a body and then stumbled back.

“f*cking brat,” the alpha in front of you had snapped and bared his teeth, the combativeness rolling off him in thick waves had startled you, and as you had slid your feet back, eyes wide and your heart racing. The alpha was heavily stacked with thick, veins that were almost protruding from his neck, and his eyes were so dark they had looked black, however, it was the scowl on his face and the scar that had run from his eyebrow to the corner of his mouth that had scared you the most. The physically imposing alpha had glowered down at you, glare morphing to a smirk as he reached for the front of your shirt, yanking you toward him, “little omega’s scared? You scared of me?”

“Leave her alone!” Curtis was halfway down the stairs and had raised his voice in protest of you being physically lifted from the ground with the alpha glaring at you as if you were nothing more than a bug.

“You a little bone for the alphas to chew on?” He had tightened his grip on your shirt and you had made a single startled cry, the impending fear bringing you to the point of tears.

“Get your f*cking hands off of her! Now!” The directive had come from behind you, the voice as recognizable as the scent that had been strained and tainted by wrath and fury, and you had nearly been dropped to the tile before you were grabbed and set down, the alpha in question thrown against the side of the staircase.

“Possessive, Levinson?” The alpha was not held by Ari, the man who had worked for your father and was so familiar to you, instead, he was being restrained by a younger alpha you had never seen before.

“You have some f*cking nerve, Rumlow.” The alpha you had never seen before had picked him up and slammed him back against the spiral, his blue eyes and dark brown hair falling into his face.

“Y/N let’s go.” Curtis had grabbed your arm and pulled you back, watching Ari pass by you, his face contorted in animosity and penchant rage.

“Fowler-“ You were pulled up the first step, and then you had turned away from the scene and scurried up the rest of the steps, your vision blurred with tears while you and Curtis had left behind the sound of pained grunts.

It was only when you had returned to your room and fearfully curled up under your blankets, that you had heard the sound of a single gunshot.

“We’re waiting until they’re all clear.” The directive was given and you had almost hoped that it hadn’t have been. You had almost wished for there to be a complication so you wouldn’t have to be stuck in the middle of Bucky and Curtis and listen to Jefferson talk about the importance of an image worthy of the person you were going to be.

You wished you had the opportunity to be an ordinary omega with the feasibility of being able to have a normal life. It was selfish on your part perhaps, to have such opportunities in front of you and want none of them. Maybe it was your selfish desires to turn away from the life set before you to have peace, or maybe it was the last few strands of resistance and self-doubt that had afflicted you.

Ari believed you could do this.

Bucky believes you could do this.

Curtis, still damn him, believed you could do this.

And yet, against all their words, all their affirmations and belief that you as an omega could run an empire, you had doubted yourself.

“It’s good. We got the all-clear.” Jefferson had shifted in his seat and you had received another glance at his waistcoat and button-down shirt, the sleek match had brought out the colour of his eyes and made him appear like an alpha who had just stepped out of the glossy pages.

“Clear to go home?” You grumbled while sliding over on the leather bench seat of the decked-out Escalade, and placed your hand in Bucky’s as he helped you step down onto the pavement, with Curtis following.

“Nice try, butterfly.” Jefferson had crooned and tapped the tip of your nose. “You and I are going to get you the kind of wardrobe that fits your role as a mob boss.”

Jefferson had turned sharply and cast his eyes upon the storefront of the sleek-looking high-end boutique, his lips stretching in a smile before he looked over his shoulder at you, his smile building. You had locked eyes with him, communicating a great deal within mere glances before Curtis had reached for your hand, fingertips brushing against fingertips.

When the door was opened and held open for you, you had stepped inside the boutique and the four of you had been greeted by a tall omega wearing a sleek emerald green dress with a thin black belt sitting around her waist. She had continued the look of sophistication with a pair of Louboutin’s with the familiar red underside. Her hair was pulled back and secured in a top knot, decorated with a string of rhinestones or diamonds that had stood out against her dark hair.

“Good morning and welcome. My name is Lia and I will be your guide during your visit here. We have everything ready for you.” Her smile was tight, her lips overdrawn, yet not obtusely so, in dark mauve lipstick that complimented the shade of her dress and the dark colour of her hair.

“Butterfly,” Jefferson had brushed his hand along the small of your back as he came to stand next to you, “needs an entirely new wardrobe.”

“So you had explained over the phone,” she had clapped her hands and walked toward you, her heels clicking against the marble, “your omega is beautiful. We have pulled some great choices if you would follow us.”

“I hate this already,” you muttered under your breath as you had reluctantly followed again.

“You’re going to be okay. Tell them what you want, tell them what you need.” Bucky had grasped your hand and stalled you, drawing your attention back to him, your eyes locking. “If you don’t like it, don’t hold back.”

The assurance was all you needed to turn away from

Bucky, to continue following Jefferson and Lia, your guide to the boutique. You had focused on the clack of her heels as she had made her way past racks of clothing that were hanging on sleek metal rods, the expensive and intricate designs stirring neither your interest nor your desire to fill your closet with what you didn’t want.

When you had come to a stop, Lia had turned sharply on her heel and addressed you, and the alphas, with a tight-lipped smile and folded her hands in front of her. She stood before rolling racks of clothes that were being pushed into view, the colours, shapes and styles varying from one to the next and yet you weren’t seeing much of anything you had liked.

“The spring collection has just been released,” Lia had motioned to the racks on the left, waving her hand in the direction of the clothes they had all intended you to try on, “with an integral mix of fabrics and designs to transform your omega.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, glossing over the designer trends that hadn’t seemed to stick out to you. You understood the need to have a more rounded wardrobe and to look as if you were more sophisticated than you had felt, however, none of these had stood out to you.

None of them had felt as if they could be something you had wanted.

“Y/N, what do you think?” Jefferson had reached for your hand and brushed his thumb across your knuckles, drawing your eyes to him. “Do you see something you would like?”

You brushed your palms down the front of your leggings and then side-eyes Bucky. He had given you a soft yet telling nod, a reaffirmation that this could go the way you wanted. This could go how you saw fit, and you had a right to say no.

“I…” you cleared your throat and rolled your shoulders back. “No.”

“No?” Lia had furrowed her brow and glanced toward Jefferson. “To one-piece or…?”

“No to all of it. I hate it all. It’s too bold, it’s too avant-garde. I want something simple, classy. I don’t need to have a $5,000 dress that looks like it was made out of trash.” You had reached for Bucky’s hand, your fingertips brushing.

“Miss L/N-“

“You heard her. She hates it. Find something else.” Jefferson had spoken in agreement, surprising you with this stance he had taken at such luxurious clothes. “And don’t bother addressing us. She’s in charge; she’s the boss.”

“You have something to say, you talk to her.”

Like My Father: Part 2

Snow that fell from tufts of clouds had littered the already condensed white landscape and the surrounding bushels of trees that lined the specific slope you had gone down.

The haze of clouds and the imperfect snowflakes that fell upon the mass of people going down the slopes or up the side of the mountains on the lifts had momentarily grabbed and held his attention, the brief distraction from the breathtaking omega he was supposed to be paying attention to.

However as he turned his head once me, and had been enraptured by the omega that was his target, Curtis had inhaled the crisp mountain air sharply as he was left feeling like a shell of himself while this gorgeous omega had remained ignorant to his presence. He was subjected to the intense desire and need, the overwhelming and devastating pull that called him to cross the slopes and approach. It was as if there was an indestructible chain that was binding him to the omega, the thick corded steel tightening around himself as he was helpless to deny this sensation.

The woman with a thick sweater beneath the winter jacket and the pair of snowboarding goggles strapped to the top of your helmet. The woman with a laugh that felt like soft chimes blowing in the wind, and a scent that infiltrated his very soul and ingrained itself within his heart.

He was supposed to be here doing his job, he was supposed to be here watching you inconspicuously to prevent any attacks. It would be his job to intervene if anything had risen against you, and the direct orders he had been given were to keep a close eye on you and your friend as you enjoyed Aspen.

You were as distracting as you were gorgeous and he was unable to break the captivity you held him in. Curtis was an alpha who had never particularly or direly felt weak, even as a boy who was had been smaller than you all those years ago, but the mere image of you with your friend was enough to bring him to his knees. You were enough to make him simper pathetically as he watched you adjust the straps of your snowboard boots and fix your goggles back over your eyes, the act itself was so innocent and so typical for the atmosphere however it was another opportunity for Curtis to be taken by you.

He was here to do a job and he knew that. Nevertheless, when you and your friend had departed the ski-hill and made it back to your hotel, the plan was made to go to the bar and let loose. It was his job to keep you safe, and he had. He had kept you safe.

He was not supposed to sleep with you, he was not supposed to get a few shots in and cross the bar and introduce himself under some false name. He was not supposed to allow himself to place his hand on your thigh or feel you quiver against him when he moved his hand below the cut of your dress.

Curtis knew he would have been in deep sh*t with the other alphas who had formed this pack, the other alphas who were all waiting on the safe arrival of you, the omega at the centre of their world, back home. Curtis had known that he was going to have to take the piss from the other alphas when he had returned to the estate, however, he was weak for you.

And when he had taken you back to your room, when he had inhaled your scent and let it fill his senses, he was made weak. He was helpless to stop the feeling of your naked flesh against his or the mewls that slipped from your lips when he thrust his co*ck into your puss*; he couldn’t stop the pleasure from surging between you two.

When Nick had found him, Curtis was nursing a hangover in the airport. When Nick had thrown him against a wall and intimidated the younger, but no less small alpha, Curtis knew he deserved it. He knew that the impact of Nick’s closed fist to his face was earned.

“You are going to explain this f*ck up to her father when you get back,” Nick had given him one warning, Nick was the pissed off alpha facing off against Curtis, another pissed of alpha who was soft for you, “and then you’re gonna explain to the rest of the pack why you pissed off our omega.”

“I couldn’t help it-“

“You damn well could’ve!” Nick had gripped Curtis’ throat and squeezed, the increasing pressure against his neck stirring the urge to fight, and yet Curtis knew that it would only make things worse. “Get the hell on that plane and don’t turn back.”

“It was a mistake, it was a moment of weakness.” Curtis had rested his elbows on his knees and attempted to convey the half-hearted apology to the alphas in the pack that remained at the estate. “God, you know how her scent affects us-“

“Of course we know,” Bucky snapped at Curtis, his anger radiating and adding to the tentative atmosphere of the room that was bordering on explosive, “some of us have more self-control than others.”

“She was my best friend and I’m supposed to act like she is nothing. I couldn’t do that.” Curtis had leaned back and yanked the covered icepack from the table and held it against his jaw, his blue eyes trained on the older alphas. “I had a moment of weakness-“

“And then you left her,” Nick had spoken above the sound of the ice in is glass hitting the sides, his blue eyes fixed in a glare while he glowered at the youngest alpha among them, “you didn’t have the balls-“

“What the f*ck do you want from me?!” Curtis stood abruptly and threw the ice pack aside, the impact it made with the couch muffled by the cushions. “What the f*ck do you want me to do, Fowler?”

“Not sleeping with our omega while you’re trying to protect her should have been number one.” He had commented, sipping on the strong liquor in his glass, letting the taste linger on his tongue before he swallowed.

“You didn’t trust me-“

“Rightfully f*cking so,” Bucky cut him off and crossed his arms over his chest, pacing back and forth slowly, “you were sent to do a job and you f*cked up-“

“I did my job. I kept an eye on her-“

“-without screwing her and then leaving in the morning.” Bucky had finished, drawing closer to Curtis as the tension between the three of them, had hit an all-time high. “You have any idea how f*cked up that is?”

“I made a mistake.” Curtis grit his teeth and averted his gaze, glancing toward the small monitor on the coffee table, the image of the enhanced and reinforced SUV pulling up to the drive. “She was so close and her scent-“

“Now you have to face her again and explain why you acted like you didn’t know her, why you left in the middle of the night. You know she knew you? Or she had recognized something about you?” Nick downed his liquor and slammed the glass against the table before he stood and slipped the gun into the holster hidden by his jacket. “I hope she f*cking nut punches you.”

“That would be the very least you deserve.”

When the vehicle came to a stop, you had looked out the window toward the estate that you had spent many weeks and months in out of a yearly cycle, however, it was not your childhood home. The estate was massive in size with the main house being at the forefront of a long and winding drive, the many rooms inside designated for meetings or parties. Inside the main building were the boardrooms your father had spent many days in, working out the details of new business ventures or deciding which unlucky fool would meet their ends after not giving what was promised.

You had spent partial pieces of your childhood here, at the massive epicentre of the empire your father had built. Your mom and you were kept away most of the time, sent to a safe house that was guarded and kept safe from anyone wanting to hurt you or her, to get to your dad. When you did stay at the estate, you would spend your time exploring every inch of the mansion that you could, and had discovered in your early years, that certain hiding spaces were advantageously perched close enough to hear the meetings you were barred from.

If you weren’t squirrelling yourself away in the hidden nooks of the estate, you would spend hours walking the acres or in the garden reading. You would have enough to do to occupy your time and yet it had never been your favourite place to stay.

Your mom’s place, the safe house set up for you, was home. The little dents in the wall you’d made when you attempted to sneak a beta up to the room, only to be caught by the guards your father had stationed far too close by. The Friday night ritual of greasy take-out food and some classic movie playing on the screen in the theatre room, the Sunday morning brunches at the cute little café in the middle of the small town nearby.

Those memories of you and your mom, and the guards, often alone, had shaped your childhood.

“Your dad wants to talk to you.” Your mom had reiterated the statement when your feet touched the stone driveway, and you were back on the estate property.

The home that you lived in part, was standing before you in elegance and sophistication, with a great number of secrets within the walls that were buried between the paint and the drywall.

“Glad to be back?” Ari questioned, hauling your bag out of the trunk and slinging it over his shoulder.

“Considering this ‘discussion’ I’m about to have,” you huffed and scuffed the toe of your boots against the stone path, “I’m gonna say no.”

“You’ll be okay, princess,” Ari reassured you, his fingertips brushing against your waist as he passed by, giving you his astute and resounding vow. “You’re stronger than you think.”

You watched Ari walk, studying his gait as he moved with confidence before your attention was diverted to Andy. He was wearing a suit like he usually did with a tie that complemented his eyes. There was a lack of briefcase in his hands, though you could distinguish the outline of a holster beneath his suit jacket.

He was walking behind Ari, almost flanking you and had seemed to be watching you closely; protectively.

“Ari, if I asked you what was going on would you tell me?” You stopped before the steps that led to the front door, your fingers twitching by your sides as you glanced between Ari and Andy, and then over your shoulder toward Jefferson.

“I can’t,” his tone of voice was even and collected, his eyes piercing you, “that’s up to your dad.”

“Jefferson,” you whipped around and faced him, your eyes meeting, “we’ve met before.”

“You remember me, little mouse?” He croons and walked closer reaching toward you to cup your cheek, his fingertips grazing your cheekbone. “Or are you trying to get what you want?”

“Don’t be fooled by her beautiful face,” Andy had stepped by you both, walking up the steps to the front door, “Y/N is nothing if not capable of bringing an alpha to their knees and getting the answers she needs.”

“No one asked you,” you grit your teeth and snapped at the lawyer as he slipped inside, but not before he shot a look over his shoulder, his lips upturned in a smirk.

“Sorry, petal.” Jefferson apologized and tapped your pout with his thumb, dragging your lip down slightly before he let go. “I’m sworn to secrecy.”

“What?” You questioned, jogging up the stairs after him and stepping through the open door. “What’s he gonna do? Rip your tongue out?”

Once you stepped inside, you had faced the entranceway of the mansion that you had always loved endlessly. The grand entranceway was sweeping and ethereally designed to be welcoming and airy, a contrast to what had gone down in the walls. As you stood in front of the double doors, you had come face to face with a spiral staircase that had led to the second floor, the metal guardrails twisted in elegance and the sheer panes of glass had prevented anyone from sliding on the sleek marble floors.

You had always loved riding the rails as a child, finding the glee and the childlike wonder in nearly everything you could in the mansion, or at the very least what you were given access to.

“Welcome home, sweetheart.” Andy had called from your left, leaning against one of the stone pillars in the entrance, the spotless marble towering to the second floor.

“This isn’t my home.” You countered and felt that perhaps you were wrong, given how your stomach had become knotted.

“Y/N dear,” your mom had walked toward you, and had hooked your arm with hers, and gently nudging your hips together, “there are three other alphas we want you to meet-“

“Why?” You were suspicious, and your instincts told you not everything was as it appeared.

This meeting with your dad, and the happenstance that you had to meet six alphas. The way they were looking at you, the way Andy seemed to shield you, how he had flanked you as if he was protecting you.

“Mama, what’s going on? Why am I here?” You glanced her way, your speculative gaze and her hesitation telling you that your suspicions had been correct.

Something was happening.

“You know that boy you used to run around with? The little alpha..?” She reached out and brushed your hair behind your ear.

“The one that was shorter than me?” You furrowed your eyebrows, and a frown had formed on your face.

Your mom was smiling small, her lips tightly pulled into a strained expression and while her touch was tender, it was hesitant. Your mom’s eyes were telling, and every moment that you held each other’s gaze, you were riddled with uncertainty.

“His name was Curtis Everett.”

“Curtis? I thought you said your name was-“

“I did.”

“I’m sorry,” your memory betrayed you, and the phantom sensation of an alpha trailing open mouth kisses along your neck had become all too real, “Curtis Everett…?”

“He works for your dad-“

“Y/N,” he appeared at the bottom of the steps, with two other alphas coming behind him, “I wanted to tell you.”

“That,” you were confused first, “is Curtis Everett?”

The little boy you had run the halls with, the little alpha with too much fire and a penchant for mouthing off to alphas bigger than him, was standing on the marble floors, and he was anything but small. He was no longer thin and scrawny but had fully grown out and up, gaining a healthy amount of muscle mass and height. His hair was buzz cut and his blue eyes were brimming with unkempt emotion.

And you had seen him naked.

He had taken you to your hotel room, and you had sex which was easily the best you had ever had. He was gentle yet rough, leaving you blissed out and on a high, you’d never reached before. Only, when you woke in the morning you were alone and felt heartbroken that this alpha you had such a good time with, didn’t even care to stay. Didn’t even say goodbye.

“You,” your control slipped and that rush of anger and hurt went careening into you with the force of a freight train, “left me! You piece of sh*t!”

“I’m sorry, baby-“

“Don’t you dare!” You stalked toward him, willing to unleash all of your hurt on this alpha who you knew, who was your best friend when you were a child. “I knew you! I knew you and you lied to me!”

“Y/N please-“ Curtis tried to talk, he had stumbled over his words and his apology, however, you were not willing or eager to hear it.

“You left me!” Your hand moved on its own volition and the thundering crack of skin meeting skin had drawn a few eyes. The aftermath of you striking him as hard as you had, resulted in your plan stinging from the force and a cut on his lip reopening.

“Don’t you ever,” you didn’t stop at a mere strike, you had dug your finger into his chest as you squared off against the alpha who wasn’t retaliating in the slightest, “talk to me again. I don’t want to see you, I don’t want to speak to you. You can f*ck off for all I care!”

“Y/N,” he had attempted again, reaching for you as you smacked his hands away, “I’m sorry-“

The apology was cut short, as was anything that could have followed when a woman approached from near the back of the mansion, a small folder in her hands. “Miss L/N, your father is ready for you.”

“You left me.” Your voice shook and you had stepped back, staring at him while your bottom lip trembled.

Alphas we’re not supposed to leave omegas after having sex with them. Omegas needed that aftercare, they needed the intimacy, even if they would never see that alpha again.

“You’re a piss poor alpha.” You turned away from him and averted your gaze, quickly following after the woman leading you to your father.

Like My Father: Prologue

“You look familiar,” the soft whimpers had been broken by coherent words and the fiery nip of his teeth grazing your collar bone, “are you sure I don’t know you?”

“f*ck,” he cursed into your neck as your hips rose to meet his, and the seeping head of his co*ck had rubbed against your soaked and partially ripped panties, “Is that what you wanna focus on now?”

His hands had been grasping and kneading your ass as he drew you into him, the tension between you two reaching a palpable point that had driven you from the bar to the elevator and finally to your room. The trail his lips had created on your neck and down the valley of your breasts as he teased your flesh, as he marked you artificially. The way his teeth had been dragging across your flesh had sent shivers down your spine; the rural goose-bumping of your flesh has earned a shaking groan from him as he ground himself against you.

“No,” you moaned, dragging your nails down his chest as he hooked his fingers into your panties and ripped. The obstruction falling free and the gentle jut of the head of his co*ck against your swollen puss* lips, pulling yet another main from you.

“You’re so f*cking wet,” he growled in-ear as he grasped the base of his co*ck and stroked twice before he snapped his hips and thrust his thick length into your puss*, “and you’re taking me so well.”

“This,” you gasped and mewled, your nails digging into his shoulder blade as the bed started rocking from the force of his thrusts, “is the best one night stand-“

“Y/N,” he growled in your ear and gripped your hip, none too gently yanking your leg to the side to give him more room, “you’re squeezing my f*cking co*ck-“

“sh*t,” you whined, every stroke of his stiff shaft against your dripping aching walls was bringing you toward a sharp peak, “sh*t, I’m gonna cum….”

The tension and heat between you were coming to a high. The trail of his lips and teeth as he kissed his way between your breasts and back up to your neck, his teeth grazing your scent gland as if he was going to bite as if he was going to mark you as his permanently, was adding to the primordial high that made you buck your hips against his thrusts.

“Cum for me, pretty girl.” He nipped your earlobe, his tongue lapping at your skin. “Cum for me, omega.”

His hands turned soft, his touch became intimidating, and it was a quick few more thrusts until you were crying against him, your body trembling as your cum dropped down your thighs, and his hot, sticky seed filled your greedy c*nt.

The flood of warmth and the slow removal of his co*ck from your puss* had released a shudder, and the soft, pliant breath against your chest as he placed one kiss and then another to your chest, felt intimate despite you not being entirely sure who you had just screwed.

“Tired,” he brushed your hair off your face and leaned in to kiss your cheek tenderly, “go to sleep.”

The soft-touch of his finger against your cheek had matched the aftermath of a night filled with org*sms. The gentle touch was more than enough to bring you close to rest and peacefulness, the gentle lull of an alpha’s voice and his scent the perfect storm to bring you sleep.

“You woke up alone.” Steam rose the pearlescent mug set between your hands as you cast your eyes upon the window and the mountains that lay beyond. The snow-capped peaks had provided some of the best skiing and snowboarding in the area and had been the location of yesterday’s activities before the two of you hit the bar in Aspen, and your one-night stand had commenced.

“Yeah,” you exhaled slowly and lifted the cup to your lips, “I woke up alone.”

“Damn. Not even a note? That alpha was hot too.” Nattie furrowed her brow and clicked her tongue against her teeth, reminiscing on the alphas you both had taken back to the hotel, though you were the only one who woke up cold and alone. “Asshole.”

“I knew him.” Your voice was quiet, and you had paused an explanation to take a sip from your latte, the foam feeling delectably cool against the hot brew inside. “I mean, I didn’t remember his name, but I swear I knew him.”

“He doesn’t seem to have a face you could easily forget.” Nattie had admitted that you wanted to agree with her, but you had forgotten his face, and you had forgotten his name.

However, something about him had seemed so familiar and so recognizable. You had remembered…something. There was something about him that you knew was familiar and that one little familiar pique had stirred your curiosity.

If only you could remember how you knew him, how you had come to know him previously. He was so familiar yet so unknown, and the night spent with him hadn’t helped. It hadn’t permitted when you woke up alone with any semblance of a goodbye or a note leaving a number.

“f*ck him.”

“I already did, Nattie.” You hummed and sipped on your latte again, dropping your gaze from the mountains and the snow that threatened to fall and coating the area in fluffy flakes.

“Well, then f*ck him. What an asshole.” She scoffed and leaned back, her arms crossed over her chest. “We have two nights left in Aspen, and then we’re going back. We’re going to spend our last two nights looking smoking hot and picking up hot alphas.”

“Drinking? Yes.” You set your cup down and looked past your friend to the frame of a man in a well-dressed suit with a sleek black tie set against a crisp white dress shirt and a square jaw pebbled with scruff. “Picking up random alphas? Been there, done that.”

“How about a horny beta?” She suggested and wiggled her eyebrows. However, you were trained on the alpha who was there one minute and gone after you had blinked.