Page 11 of Ruined By the Mafia Kings
“Time to be brave, Ty,” I said, forcing myself upright. “Or at least slightly less pathetic.”
My legs shook uncontrollably as I staggered toward the door. Each step sent jolts of awareness through my hypersensitive skin, the brush of air itself almost unbearable. I gripped thedoorknob, taking one last steadying breath before plunging back into the lion’s den. Or more accurately, the alpha’s dungeon.
Sunlight cut through the high, barred window in harsh rectangular beams, illuminating what last night’s shadows had mercifully concealed. The room looked less like a medieval dungeon and more like what it truly was, a perverse medical facility dressed up in gothic trappings. Even in his depravity, De Luca couldn’t resist theatrical flourishes. If I weren’t so terrified, I might have rolled my eyes at the melodrama of it all.
But any sarcastic thoughts fled my mind the moment I saw them.
The alphas were awake. Fully, completely awake. The chains at their wrists clinked softly as they shifted on their beds, their eyes clear, focused, and burning with an intelligence and fury that made my steps falter.
Wait. Something wasn’t right. How had they gone from barely conscious last night to fully alert this morning without anyone noticing? Had they been pretending? The thought sent a chill down my spine. If they were clever enough to fool De Luca and his men, they were far more dangerous than anyone realized.
“Well, well,” the blue-eyed one drawled. “The little omega returns.”
I froze, my hand still on the doorknob. Despite his cool tone, I couldn’t help but notice the way his powerful chest rose and fell with slightly too-rapid breaths, the thin sheen of sweat on his brow, the way his jaw clenched as if fighting for control. My omega scent was affecting him, even as he maintained that icy facade.
“What’s the matter, sweetheart?” Mr. Enigma asked, his green eyes gleaming with something that wasn’t quite amusement. His pupils were dilated, the emerald irises reduced to thin rings around expanding black. A muscle in his necktwitched as he inhaled my scent. “Cat got your tongue? Or are you just disappointed we’re not as helpless as you’d hoped?”
The phrase “cat got your tongue” sparked something in me, a flash of clarity cutting through my heat-fog.
“Is that what this is?” I asked, a nervous laugh escaping despite myself. “Some twisted game of cat and mouse? You three pretending to be injured while plotting to hunt down the helpless omega?”
Mr. Enigma’s smile widened, all teeth and predatory intent. “Clever little mouse. Quick to catch on.”
“Well, this mouse isn’t as helpless as you think,” I shot back, though my voice wavered as another wave of heat rolled through me.
“All mice think that,” Mr. Iceflare said, his voice dropping to that dangerous register that seemed to vibrate through my bones. “Right until the moment the cat pounces.”
I swallowed hard, my throat suddenly dry. “I… I didn’t?—”
“Didn’t what?” Mr. Iceflare cut in. “Didn’t expect us to be conscious enough to remember what you’re planning to do to us?”
My heart hammered against my ribs. This was not how this was supposed to go. They were supposed to be disoriented, weak, barely aware. Not sharp-eyed and verbally eviscerating me from across the room, while simultaneously fighting their own biological responses to my heat.
“Look,” I managed, forcing my voice to steady. “I don’t want to be here any more than you do. De Luca has my father. If I don’t do what he wants?—”
“Spare us the sob story,” Mr. Iceflare interrupted, his eyes narrowing even as his nostrils flared, taking in my scent. “We all have people we care about. It doesn’t give us the right to use others.”
The unfairness of his accusation sparked a flare of anger that momentarily cut through my heat-fog. “That’s rich coming from three mafia alphas. What’s your body count, exactly? Or do you lose track after the first dozen?”
Mr. Enigma’s lips curved into a smile that held no warmth, though a growl rumbled deep in his chest, a sound that was equal parts threat and hunger. “Feisty little thing, aren’t you? I can see why De Luca chose you. Not just any omega would have the nerve to walk in here planning to ride three alphas.”
I flinched at his crude phrasing but straightened my shoulders. “It’s not like that.” Mr. Storm’s stormy eyes darkened as they tracked a bead of sweat rolling down my neck to my collarbone.
“No? Then what is it like, exactly?” Mr. Iceflare asked. “Because from where we’re lying, it looks very much like that.”
Another cramp hit me, this one so intense I had to grip the doorframe to stay upright. I couldn’t help the small whimper that escaped me, and I watched in mortification as all three alphas reacted viscerally, their bodies stiffening, jaws clenching, a collective inhale as they caught my scent. Their response was unmistakable now, tenting the thin sheets that covered them from the waist down.
Mr. Iceflare’s jaw tightened, a muscle jumping in his cheek as he fought for control. “Your heat won’t save you when we get free. And we will get free, omega. Sooner than De Luca thinks.”
“What will you do then?” I asked, the question slipping out before I could stop it. “When you’re free?”
His smile was all teeth, predatory and cold, but his voice dropped to a seductive growl that seemed to caress my skin. “First, we’ll deal with De Luca. Slowly. Thoroughly. Then we’ll find everyone who helped him—the guards, that doctor, the ones who set up this little chamber of horrors.”
“And me?” I whispered, though I already knew the answer.
“You?” Mr. Enigma picked up where his companion left off, his voice a silky purr that contrasted sharply with the threat in his words. “You’re a special case, aren’t you? The omega who thought he could use three alphas like breeding stock.”
His scent spiked with a mixture of rage and desire that made my knees weak. I could feel my body responding, my inner omega recognizing the alpha challenge in his tone, urging me to submit, to please, to appease.
