Page 3 of The Alpha Grizzly's Mate

I worked my ass off in school, from my undergraduate degree to my master’s. And then I hit a wall. I applied to every university in the country that offered my major, looking for a PhD placement. Every one of them rejected me. But I knew I would be okay—all I had to do was get a job in my field. No problem.

Except, it was a fucking problem.

Over the years, I’d overeducated myself for any kind of entry-level position, and I didn’t have enough education or connections to secure a professor or collegiate position.

And where did that leave me?

Here, packing up the last of my things and heading home to work with the family. Sure, that might sound great—working in the family business, getting a cushy seat, a corner office, thanks to nepotism. But my family wasn’t like that. Their business was seedy, vile, and highly illegal. It was the epitome of everything I didn’t want to be, and now I had no choice but to join it.

I never wanted to be a part of it, not even as a small child when I didn’t have half a clue as to what my father and uncles did on a daily basis. My grandfather always told me it was because I was a kind soul and that not everyone born into the business belonged there. My father, on the other hand, said it was because I was useless. It didn’t matter which it was because this soft, useless, kind person was now going to work for and with some of the most evil people on this planet. I didn’t want to be a part of it.

Running away crossed my mind, but it would be pointless. My family had connections far and wide. People had tried to evade them, but one of my first memories was being at my father’s office when one of them was found and brought back. The pleas for mercy before my father forced me to watch the man get a bullet in the head. I was not even three, and that day taught me I never wanted to be like my father. Ever.

This couldn’t be happening to me. I needed to do something. I needed to get out of it. Just not showing up wasn’t an option—they’d come for me. They wouldn’t put a bullet in my head, but maybe that would be kinder than what they would do.

And even if they didn’t hunt me down like a dog, they had the skills to cut me off from every means I had of accessing money: my bank accounts, my cards, my social security number.If I opted to get a low-end job, I’d still be under their thumb. That left me with the cash I had on hand, which would keep me going for a little while, but not for long. Bottom line, I had no other option and, now that my grandfather had passed, there was no one to save me.

“I know what to do, Grandpa. I’ll show him just how right I was about not being a good fit. I’ll be useless. No, better yet—I’ll be so bad I cost them money. He won’t want that. He’ll push me down.” My new plan, if you could even call it one, was to mess up enough to go from working in the business to something menial, like driving people around. I could mess that up, too. Eventually, he’d be sick of me. Maybe he’d just tell me to stay in my room. It wasn’t freedom, but it was the only idea I could think of, and some hope was better than none.

At my age, that would be embarrassing to be stuck living with Daddy, unable to even go to the store alone. Who did I have to impress? And besides, it was better than doing a task that led to someone’s harm—physical, financial, or reputational. The business had no bounds. But one thing I was not going to do was get married to “help the family.” That wasn’t going to happen. Thankfully, the people my father attempted to pawn me off to agreed. Your family was only as strong as your weakest link, and they all saw me as that.

“Guess, I’m doing this.” I pushed away from the wall and placed my grandfather’s picture in the final box. I was officially packed. There would be no more dawdling. It was time to leave.

I threw everything into the car and made my way back “home.” Home, it wasn’t home. It was a freaking house and I would live there, but home was so much more than that…it was a place you felt safe and loved and like you belonged. The mansion had never and would never be that.

As I pulled up to the gate and waited to be buzzed in, I was reminded how cold the place was. Not get a sweater cold but unwelcoming.

Someone buzzed me in quickly but surprisingly, I wasn’t met by anyone at the door. A huge part of me was glad I didn’t need to play the part of dutiful son tonight. That would come soon enough.

I walked in with my backpack slung over my shoulder and a suitcase in hand. The rest of my clothes could wait. I didn’t bother bringing the furniture or the kitchen supplies, leaving them for the next tenant. I wouldn’t need them here. There was a chef and a kitchen much better than any commercial one. As far as furnishings went, only the best for my family.

“Hey, Bruce,” I greeted the household manager, who was already reaching for my bag.

“Listen, I got it. I just need to go up to my room.”

“Your father expects you at dinner, sir.” So much for the hope of reprieve for the night.

“What time?” Being late wasn’t an option. Not with my father.

“Seven. And he’s had me set out the suit you are to wear.” Of course he freaking did.

I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Let me guess, we have company coming?”

“Yes, sir. Edwin. Edwin, one from the Marcus family.” He gave a single nod.

I hadn’t even walked in the door, and my father was already setting me up with the perfect match. The perfect match for him. I thought the Marcus family had given up on me when I went to school. Suck.

“I’ll be there at seven.”

I walked up the stairs, dragging my suitcase behind me, wondering how my father thought I would be a good match forthe cruelest member of the Marcus family. Edwin didn’t have an ounce of empathy in his entire body. My father wouldn’t force me, but he sure was going to push until I thought I no longer had a choice. That was his way.

I wasn’t like his employees, for whom it was “Do what I say or eat this bullet.” I was his son. He used other methods, and honestly, they often felt crueler—because at least the bullet was over quickly. The torture was just beginning.

Down the corridor I went, and when I walked into my room, I was happy it hadn’t been messed with too much. The sheets were fresh, my chair was gone, and the suit my father wanted me to wear was on the bed. There were also some water bottles set out for me, but my shelves, filled with my books, were still here. They had been my sanctuary for so long. If they had been missing, I wasn’t sure what I’d do.

I clicked the door behind me, locking it, hating how people had a key.

“I guess this is where I live now.” As much as I hated it, it was true.

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