Page 77 of Villainous Fate

Here, I thought punching someone in the face would be enough for them to take a hint, but he comes back repeatedly. Pete has had to throw him out a half-dozen times since Deacon left.

Gathering any patience I can muster, I pull open the door, plastering a smile on my face.

The diner is almost full of early dinner patrons having their meals before the long week ahead. I take a minute to greet several of our regulars, intentionally avoiding Greg and his flunkies, before ducking behind the counter to head to the back and drop off my stuff in my locker.

Throwing on my apron, I glance at the small mirror and quickly tie my hair out of my face for the shift. I haven’t had the heart to braid it since he left. As if I’m protesting until he returns, I leave it down, allowing the waves to fly free. For work, it’s been mostly pulled off my face to keep from getting any of the copper strands in the food.

Slamming the door shut on the locker more enthusiastically than I intended, I shake my tense muscles. Tonight’s shift is the last I have before three days off. Well, that is, if I don’t pick up any to keep me from staring at the walls at home or crying in the treehouse.

I’ll ask Pete if he can schedule me again tomorrow. Mondays are usually busy after the pack meeting lets out, so it would be a perfect distraction.

I grab a couple of plates and head into the main dining area, avoiding the left side of the restaurant as I greet Sadie, a senior from my school and fellow packmate.

Working with Sadie is always difficult because she enjoys flirting far more than working, so I end up grabbing extra tables to ensure everyone gets served. The only positive is that she has Greg in her section, so at least I can avoid his attention tonight.

Moving around the room, I drop off the plates, fill drinks, and take orders until I fall into my rhythm. Keeping everyone’s orders organized, I move out as quickly as possible. After an hour, I find myself cleaning a table in Sadie’s section when the door chimes.

“Have a seat anywhere you’d like. I’ll be right with you,” I holler over my shoulder, not bothering to look at the new guests as I fight with a particularly sticky cushion that I’m guessing is syrup.

Righting myself, I stack the used dishes into a pile and scoop them up before heading to the kitchen in the back. On my way, a hand reaches out, stopping my progress. I freeze, knowing precisely who has placed their hand across my waist before moving to look around the pile in my arms.

“Something I can help you with, Belsom?” I ask, trying to keep my voice neutral in a room full of humans and wolves alike.

“Actually, Splotches, I think you need a break. Why don’t you have a seat here for a few minutes? I believe everyone has what they need for now,” he smiles at me, no trace of humor in his request despite its absurdity. He pats his lap in invitation and holds my gaze.

I step back, hoping to break his contact with me before responding. He grips tighter, preventing my retreat, at least without me making a scene, and I can’t have our other customers see an argument break out.

“As…tempting as that offer is, I have work to do. Please take your hand off me so I can return these to the kitchen. I have a job to do,” I say, my voice holding steady despite my wolf clawing at my control.

“Come on, Sadie has time to spend with us. How come you never do?” he asks, doubling down by adding a second hand to the string of my apron and tugging to move me closer to him as he stands. I lock my legs and lean as far away from him as I can, about to refuse another time, when Greg's eyes move from my face to look over my shoulder just as another voice pipes up.

Please be Pete.

“I believe the lady asked you to remove your hand,” a deep voice says, reverberating down my back.

Oh no.

The last thing I need is a human getting mixed up in this and Greg killing him for getting involved.

“Not sure it’s any of your business. Now get out of here,” Greg instructs, turning his eyes from the brave man behind me to my face. “Plus, Splotches here likes to play hard to get. The chase is her favorite part,” he continues, causing my skin to flush crimson with embarrassment.

“That may be true, but you willremove your handsall the same,” the voice says. As the command dances over my skin, my fingers release the plates, and everything begins to happen in slow motion. It takes my brain a moment to catch up with the situation as all the dishes I once held come tumbling to the linoleum floor with an ear-splitting crash. The noise that follows is loud enough to grab every customer's attention and bring all other conversations to a screeching halt.

It's only then that I notice that Greg has released his hold on me, and no one at the table has anything in their hands.

An Alpha.

Fear slips in, making me wonder who stands behind me as the restaurant remains frozen in a silent standoff. I don’t recognize the voice or catch the Marlo signature Italian lilt from Luca or Giovanni.

My body catches up with the scene, and I drop to the floor to collect the shattered dishes while spouting apologies to the guests in the area.

“I am so sorry. I can be incredibly clumsy. Let me get that for you,” I sputter off, grabbing shards of plates and cups from the floor. I avoid looking anyone in the eye until I hear the table of Greg’s followers giggling at my mess.

My eyes flash up and lock on Sadie sitting in the booth laughing.

Thank you so much for working.

The fury I feel snaps a bit of my restraint, and my eyes shift, allowing my wolf to snarl at her. For one blissful moment, I imagine hurling one of the shards at her perfectly painted face.

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