Chapter 5

“I’m going to say it.”

The car had been silent at first—but go figure, Tommy couldn’t sit fucking quiet for more than five minutes before opening his trap. Matthew had every desire to turn and shoot his teammate, but his arm was fucking killing him from the bullet wound, keeping him from turning and doing them all a favor.

“Don’t fucking say it.”

At least Alessandro had his back.

“I have to say it.”

“You don’t have to do anything.”

“I have to say it, or it’s going to fucking kill me.”

“Tommy.”

Ricky’s tone was hard, laced with finality.

But, of course, Tommy couldn’t take a hint.

“I have to say it.”

“You don’t have to say anything,” Alessandro snapped, his hands tightening on the steering wheel.

Matthew forced his eyes forward as his jaw tightened, knowing if he did anything else, he would snap.

“I have to say it, or it’s going to fucking kill me.”

“Tommy.”

“It’s choking me, Ricky. I’ve got to fucking say it.”

“Why the fuck are you like this?”

“Alessandro, come on man. You saw it. You smelled it.”

“I don’t know what I saw or smelled.”

The bite in Alessandro’s tone was a warning, but Tommy was too far gone to listen.

“Come on, man. Don’t do me like that. We all saw it. We all felt it.”

“For fuck’s sake,” Ricky muttered.

“Tommy,” Alessandro snapped.

“Shit, if my eyes had been closed and I hadn’t smelled it before, I would’ve sworn she smelled like a—”

The car slammed to a halt brakes squealing.

Matthew was flung forward. He groaned, the aches in his body reminding him of just how many hits he had taken, but that didn’t stop him from glaring at Alessandro, unsurprised.

His tone had been a warning, after all.

“Give me one good reason not to pull this fucking trigger,” Alessandro snapped, gun pointed directly at Tommy’s dick. “Just fucking one.”

“We were all fucking thinking it,” Tommy retorted, reaching for his gun, which was in Ricky’s hand. “The fuck, Ricky?”

“Yeah, we were all fucking thinking it, dipshit, but none of us are stupid enough to say it while in the same fucking car as him.”

Alessandro didn’t need to say his name. All Matthew could do was grit his teeth.

Fuck, he needed a shower and to get these bullets out of him.

The car started again—thankfully with Tommy’s mouth fucking shut—and it remained silent until they approached the parking lot.

Matthew was in no rush to get out of the car because it didn’t take a genius to guess what was coming next. How the hell was he supposed to give them any answers when he was asking the same damn questions?

Because, fuck, she sure as shit didn’t actually smell like an unmated Omega, but she put off a hell of a lot more pheromones than any Beta he had ever encountered.

Matthew let out a deep breath before gritting his teeth as he climbed out of the front passenger seat. His body was fighting to push out the bullet embedded in his arm, and dirt, debris, and sweat ran into his healing wounds. Every movement became that much more painful, but he couldn’t let the others see that.

It hadn’t hurt that fucking bad earlier, but being around Gabriella was like floating on a fucking cloud. When she walked away, however, the pain had slammed into him all at once in a way it never had before. It wasn’t fucking normal, and it wasn’t fucking right. He was an Alpha. His body was supposed to naturally reject and ignore this sort of pain.

He shoved the car door closed with his good arm and turned to head into the house, only to have a fist connect with his jaw. He stepped back, knowing whose fist swung at him, and he didn’t want to swing without meaning to.

Alpha reflexes were good unless it was your buddy trying to knock sense into you.

“What the fuck, man?” Alessandro demanded, shaking his hand.

It had to be more for show than pain, probably. Hopefully. Matthew didn’t think his jaw was that hard.

“I know you said we weren’t going to fucking talk about it but that’s no longer a fucking option, seeing as how you nearly just fucked her in the middle of the fucking big house where there’s goddamn cameras everywhere and the boss could have come down at any fucking minute. Ricky is probably already—”

“I am,” Ricky said.

“Working on editing the footage to remove whatever the fuck that was. Scent marking? Pheromone overload? Did you piss on her leg as well?”

Matthew said nothing, knowing Alessandro’s words were true. Didn’t change the fact that every drop of his Alpha genetics were screaming at him to rip his buddy apart. Yet every last brain cell he still had chugging around in there was reminding him to keep at bay.

That and the reminder of Gabriella Santorini touching his shirt, smelling like fresh flowers and sex, like she needed his hand in her—

“Fucking say something, Matty. Say something before you do something so goddamn stupid, you get us all killed. Say something before you do something that makes me have to kill you. I mean, fuck, just say fucking something.”

Matthew looked at Alessandro, who retreated. Ricky was typing away on his tablet, leaning against the car, and Tommy was a step behind, using the car to shield his body. Probably a good idea because Matthew was still considering knocking out his teeth.

“What the fuck do you want me to say?” Matthew asked as he straightened to his full height. He was bigger and taller than the others. They should probably be reminded of that. Fuck, those were the Alpha thoughts, not the brain cell thoughts. “I can’t answer questions I’m already asking myself.”

“You’re acting like—” Alessandro shook his head, stepping back. “Fuck, you’re acting like she’s an Omega in goddamn heat and you’re an Alpha about to go into rut.”

“I know,” Matthew agreed as he rolled his neck. Fuck, he would punch Alessandro if for no reason other than to remind them he was in charge.

“Are you skipping injections?”

“No.”

“Then what the fuck is going on in your fucking head? You nearly just fucked her.”

“I don’t know.”

“She was going to let you.”

“ Fuck .”

He didn’t know if he was more horrified or delighted by the thought because he wanted to, but where the hell was his sense of self-preservation?

“She’s not an Omega,” Ricky said. “Just, so we’re all clear on that. We all agree, she’s not an Omega.”

No one answered, but one glance over toward the rear of the car told Matthew that Tommy sure as shit wanted to. He waved and shook his head, knowing he should hear it even if he didn’t want to.

“Fuck, don’t shoot me, but she don’t smell like a fucking Beta either,” Tommy said, ducking lower behind the car. “Does he have his gun in his hand?”

“If either of you suggests she’s a goddamn Alpha—” Alessandro began.

Tommy wasn’t fucking done.

“She sure as shit has the cocky attitude of one. One second, all stone faced like our boy Matty and the next, she’s rolling her eyes and smirking, ready to go toe to toe. She’s shorter than my Ma but somehow even more terrifying when she looks at you.”

“Shut the fuck up if you’re not going to help.”

“Then what the fuck is she, Ricky?”

“The boss’s daughter,” Alessandro said, his tone hard. “Don’t matter what her designation is. She’s the boss’s daughter. And the sooner you get that into your thick skull—”

Matthew swung, knocking Alessandro in the jaw. Something cracked in his fist. Damn.

“Fuck,” Alessandro muttered as he stepped back. “Should have kept more distance.”

“Should have done this in the gym,” Ricky murmured. “This is why we fight with gloves on.”

“Shit, I’m sorry, man,” Matthew said, shaking his hand out. He could already feel it cracking back into place, but it was slow going, given his other injuries. “I know you’re right but I can only take so fucking much.”

“I’m going to hit you back now,” Alessandro said as he stepped forward. “Knock some sense into your thick skull.”

“Come on, Alessandro,” Matthew said with a groan. “I’m still fucking drunk off of whatever the fuck that was so if you hit me again, I might just break your fucking back.”

“Security footage is fixed,” Ricky announced as he walked between them. “Let’s go get cleaned up and then the pair of you can beat the shit out of each other.”

Tommy was a step behind and paused between Matthew and his second, looking at them. Matthew nearly lunged forward, knowing the other Alpha also deserved a knockout but, somehow, held himself back.

And then it was just himself and his closest friend.

“Seriously, man, what the fuck are you doing?” Alessandro asked, studying him. “Do you even know what you’re doing?”

“Fuck, I don’t know. I don’t think this is like what those docs warned us about, you know? Like, it’s not that. The whole, I mean, I’ve felt that before, you know?”

“You’re sure it’s not that ? I mean, I’ve never felt it but it kind of looks like it. Losing control of yourself, making rash decisions—”

“No, no.” Matthew shook his head. “That’s... that’s violent. I would be ripping you all apart right now, if it was that.”

“Good,” Alessandro said with a nod. “Thank fuck, man.”

“Yeah. Yeah.”

There was nothing else he could really say.

Alessandro gave him another long, hard stare before nodding and heading inside.

Matthew was left standing there but quickly followed, not wanting to be left alone with his own thoughts. That would result in disaster because if he stopped to think about what was going on, with him and with Gabriella, then he would have to face reality.

And reality was fucking terrifying.

He avoided his thoughts as he sat still for one of the other guys to pull the bullet out of his skin. He avoided them even more as he stripped down naked and crawled under a cold shower, trying to wash away dirt, debris, and sweat and blood. He avoided them still as he wiped down wounds with alcohol, not wanting to force his body to add fighting infections to its to do list.

But as he contemplated going to bed, he realized avoiding these thoughts was no longer a real possibility. Because if he went to bed, all he would picture was Gabriella in her own bed, wearing her nightgown, with the scent of her pleasure still radiating off of her. He would be stuck imagining what had caused her to be turned on in her dreams, the way she had almost touched him, and the way he had nearly grabbed her.

Sleeping wasn’t on the table, no matter how tired he was, so he headed into the gym instead, ready to beat the shit out of a punching bag. In there, he could lose himself to the rhythm of his swings and concentrate on pushing his strength to the max. If he was really on his shit, he would maybe break his record for the most punching bags he had ever demolished in one go.

The other guys were all in the gym when he entered, which was surprising. Tommy and Ricky liked to sleep, particularly after a mission. And Alessandro... Well, fuck, maybe his presence wasn’t so surprising, having wanted to break everyone an hour earlier. And given how he was behaving, it was probably a good idea he not be left alone.

But, fuck, he really didn’t want to talk right then and there.

Rather than acknowledging his team, he pulled on a pair of gloves and went straight to the bag. Eyes lingered on him, but he wouldn’t waste air on shit he didn’t want to say. If they had questions, they could figure out what the fuck was going on with him.

He was going to hit something, to avoid thinking about how he had reached this point in his life.

Only, as he started to swing...

“You’re pretty good in the ring, kid. Ever thought about placing bets on yourself?”

The first time he had placed a bet on himself, he had been doing so through another guy who liked his style. It had brought in enough beer money to last him two weeks, not that he could ever get drunk enough. He hadn’t realized he was an Alpha, but as it would turn out, his new friend had made the guess...

“It’s just one match. Throw one match. See what happens.”

He had tried to throw that match but had been unable to stop himself from winning. And afterwards, when his new friend had approached him, complaining about the money lost...

“Heard you fucked him up pretty good, kid. He’s gonna live but it ain’t gonna be a nice life he’s living.”

It was Santorini’s men who had bailed him out and Santorini’s lawyer who had defended him, citing it was self-defense somehow. Matthew hadn’t known it was the crime family involved with his release, but he had been a stupid college kid, just grateful to get out of trouble.

Only, somehow, trouble kept finding him until he eventually killed a guy with his fists, and his designation was no longer a blank space on every form he filled out. He was an Alpha, presenting years early—thanks to all the fighting he had done—and now he had blood on his hands and a rage building inside of him that he couldn’t control.

Everything had been hopeless for about ten minutes until Boss Renaldo Santorini had entered his jail cell and held out a vial of something without a label on it, offering him another chance. Matthew had taken it, knowing he was already in too deep with the family. The first injection had brought him a peace he had never experienced, while the second brought him more pain than imaginable. Days had bled into weeks, and somehow, on the other side...

He was an Alpha, not lost in the rut, not lost in the rage but also unmated. Trial and error had followed, with him being their first success, until Alessandro and Tommy and Ricky had joined him.

And now, he was beating the shit out of a bag Alessandro was holding stable on the other side, wondering how the fuck he craved fucking the daughter of the man who he owed everything.

Fuck, was he about to go into a rut? None of the others had ever done so, and it was only the one time for him, back in the early days, before he met them, when the injections were all still more based on theories than facts. He had lost it one fucking time, beat the shit out of everyone until he had been shoved into a cell and then destroyed everything in there.

He had craved something so sweet, so unattainable, so maddening, for days. It was so close. He could taste it in the air. The softest voice had called to him, hour after hour, and he had screamed for it, reaching, unable to attain. The scent had enveloped him day after day, and he had more than once begged for death to release him from his cravings.

He had destroyed himself for days until he finally crawled from the cell, an Alpha who had survived an unmated rut, with only the dream of an Omega to carry him through on the long nights.

Gabriella. She had the same sweet undertones of the scent, but the rich spiciness, the bite, the Omega slick, the heat, and the saltiness was missing. It was like she used the same perfume, but she wasn’t the same.

He craved her because she was a faint memory of something he had always desired but never tasted.

And never would taste because his bloodied hands would never touch an Omega.

Fuck, they would never touch Gabriella Santorini, either.

He was doomed to be alone, beating the shit out of a punching bag and jacking off in hot showers, aching for a knot he would never be able to lock into place.

“Fuck,” he muttered as he looked up at Alessandro.

His second was still holding the bag and putting his weight into it as well, not budging, even after all the swings Matthew had taken. A glance behind Alessandro told him that he might have beaten his record for pulverizing bags.

“Feel better?” Ricky asked from where he sat along the wall.

Tommy was beside him, head tilted back and eyes closed. Figured.

“No,” he answered honestly, then groaned as he shook out his hands. “Yes. Fuck, I don’t know.”

“What do you know?” Alessandro teased, making Matthew smirk back.

Right. What did he know? Good fucking question.

He was an Alpha. An enforcer. He had the best fucking team. He was now in charge of Gabriella Santorini’s safety.

And she, no matter how much he fucking craved her and no matter how much she smelled fucking delicious, was not an Omega.

Only, he didn’t seem to care what she fucking was. Beta, Omega, Alpha—somehow none of the three—it didn’t matter.

He wanted her. Wanted her under him and over him and around him and flooding his senses.

“I’m going to grab another shower then get to sleep,” he announced.

The others didn’t follow as he stepped into the shower, turning the water as hot as it would go.

“Fuck,” he groaned as the water hit his sore body, then hunched over, knowing he shouldn’t.

He was aching for her in a way he could never describe, and even if his dick didn’t seem to work the way it used to and the way it should, he could take the edge off.

Beta, not Beta. Omega, not Omega. She was the sweetest smelling Beta he had ever seen.

And everyone knew it. Everyone. All the Alphas.

But that wasn’t fucking possible. It would have been known if Boss Santorini’s wife—may she rest in peace—was a fucking Omega, and Boss Santorini was as Beta as Betas could be. There was no fucking way his daughter was a goddamn Omega.

But Betas didn’t smell like that. Betas didn’t smirk up at Alphas when they had pheromones pouring out of them. Betas didn’t tease and taunt when an Alpha glared them down.

Fuck, if she wasn’t a Beta, then she had to be an Omega. But if she was a fucking Omega, with the way she had been looking at him in the hallway and the way he was about to grab her...

Because he was about to grab her. Alessandro had no idea how close he had come to grabbing her. To yanking her by her hair, lifting her from the ground, and pressing himself against her slick cunt, then sucking her throat in search of glands he hoped were under her skin. He had been on the cusp of marking her as his, to burying his face in her slit, sucking at her folds, and sinking his teeth into her thigh, mating gland present or not, and he had been—

Matthew groaned as he found release, but not the way an Alpha was meant to. It more hurt than helped the few seconds after, as though something was blocking his balls from shooting their full load. But for a second, he could think fucking clearly.

Gabriella Santorini was an enigma he wanted to devour but would never be able to touch.

And he was becoming a goddamn liability.

Matthew turned off the water and stood there, letting his body drip as his cock softened in his hand. Omega, not Omega, it didn’t fucking matter. Even now, with his balls throbbing in pain and his cock feeling raw, she was making him salivate with just the memory of her smirk and the way her breasts had looked unbound in her nightgown, with her robe doing nothing to hide them.

“Fuck it,” he muttered as he turned the shower back on and pumped his dick again.