Chapter 18

CHAPTER 18

BELLA

My heart pounds beneath the silken ivory dress as I stand in line with the other omegas, waiting to be paraded before the leering alphas. The air is thick with a dizzying cocktail of pheromones—ripe omega sweetness mingling with the potent musk of virile alphas.

I clench my jaw, determined not to let them smell my weakness. My fear. A lace mask conceals my face, but I know my scent gives me away. I can only pray the perfume holds, muffling my scent enough to keep the alphas from knowing I've already been claimed.

One by one, the other omegas are led onto the stage, tottering on high heels, fragrant slick already glistening on their thighs. I watch them go, these poor broken creatures, so lost to their base instincts. So willing to submit, to be owned, mounted, bred. Bile rises in my throat.

I'm the last in line. The grand finale. The De Luca's most precious offering, sure to secure an alliance with whichever powerful pack places the winning bid. My fathers spared no expense primping me for this humiliation.

My hair has been styled in glossy waves, lips painted blood red.

My heart races as I hear the auctioneer's voice boom through the hall, announcing the final omega to be presented. "And now, the crown jewel of tonight's auction, the exquisite Belladonna Lucille De Luca!"

The attendant roughly yanks my arm, practically dragging me up the steps and onto the stage. The bright lights momentarily blind me before my vision adjusts, revealing the sea of hungry alpha eyes devouring me. Their pheromones crash over me like a tsunami, threatening to pull me under and drown me in their desire.

I lift my chin, determined to cling to my pride even as I feel their gazes raking over my curves, barely concealed by the sheer ivory silk. The dress clings to me like a second skin, putting every inch of my body on display for their leering appraisal.

As I'm forced to turn in a slow circle, I catch a glimpse of the last person I ever expected to see, and it catches me so off guard, that I come to a complete stop, my heart lurching into my throat, tears springing to my eyes.

Rosa…

She sits in an alpha's lap off to the side of the main stage, staring up at me with wide eyes. Her skin is paler than it should be, her black hair stringy and her makeup is stark on her once gorgeous face. She sways on the alpha's lap and clearly she's not in her right mind, but I see the recognition in her green eyes all he same.

Ten years. It's been ten years since I've looked into my sister's eyes. Since the day she told me to be strong and take care of Mama. When she told me she had to leave me. She was supposed to be mated off, not sold and re sold. She was a person for fuck's sake!

The attendant gestures for me to walk to the front of the stage and back so that the alphas can get a good look at the whole package. I tear my eyes away from my sister. I wonder if Sarah ever made it to the club in Oregon.

I force myself to take measured steps, each one feeling like a mile. The eyes of the alphas bore into me, their whispers and low chuckles sending shivers down my spine. I can practically feel their hands on me already, groping, claiming, violating.

As I reach the end of the stage, I risk another glance at Rosa. She's still staring at me, her eyes glazed but filled with a deep sorrow that pierces my heart. What horrors has she endured these past ten years? The thought makes me want to scream, to tear this whole place down with my bare hands.

But I can't. Not yet. I have to play their game, bide my time until I can find a way to get us both out of here.

The auctioneer's voice booms out again, startling me back to the present. "We'll start the bidding at one million dollars. Do I hear one million?"

A paddle shoots up immediately, followed by another and another. The numbers climb higher and higher, each one feeling like a noose tightening around my neck.

Five million. Ten million. Fifteen.

I keep my eyes forward, refusing to look at the alphas clamoring to own me. I won't give them the satisfaction of seeing my fear.

My gaze is drawn to the back of the room, where four figures sit in the shadows, exuding an aura of quiet menace. The Carbone brothers, and their newest pack member, Sam. The tight knot in my chest eases just a fraction.

Their dark eyes are fixed on me, glittering with a kind of predatory fascination that sends a shiver down my spine. They don't raise their paddles or join in the frenzy of bidding. They simply watch, like lions eyeing a particularly enticing gazelle. A gazelle that they've already chased down and caught, feasted on and claimed as their own.

As the bidding climbs to a dizzying crescendo, I find myself unable to look away from my men.

Dante's gaze is the most unnerving, filled with a dark hunger that promises both pleasure and pain. I remember the feel of his hands on my skin, the way he marked me with his teeth and tongue, claiming every inch of me as his own.

Silas watches me with a cool, assessing stare, his brilliant mind no doubt already calculating how he can turn this situation to his advantage. He's always been the strategist, the one who sees ten steps ahead. I can practically hear the gears turning behind those piercing golden eyes.

Hector's expression is stoic as ever, but I catch the faintest flicker of something in his gaze—crazed rage and the hunger for carnage.

And then there's Sam. My Sam. The bodyguard who betrayed his alphas because he fell in love with an omega. He came. He walked right into the pit of vipers, knowing that the De Lucas probably wanted the traitor dead. But my alphas wouldn't let that happen.

We were about to fuck shit up in the best way.

With the most subtle nod of my head, the four men don't bother glancing at one another before slowly leaving the booth and dispersing through the dark club. They headed in all different directions as casually as they could without attracting attention.

"Thirty million dollars!" An alpha calls out. The highest bid so far. It makes me dizzy.

The crowd whispers excitedly as my father hushes them and strides towards the stage, his designer suit impeccable, his dark eyes glinting with malice.

The room falls silent as he approaches, the other alphas shrinking back in deference to his power. He climbs the steps slowly, each footfall echoing like a death knell. I feel my heart race, my palms slick with sweat as he comes to stand on the step in front of me.

But he doesn't even spare me a glance. Instead, he turns his back to me, facing the crowd of alphas with a triumphant sneer. "Gentlemen," he begins, his voice oozing false charm. "I present to you the finest omega to ever grace this stage. My own daughter, Belladonna. A virgin, pure and untouched, ready to be claimed by the highest bidder."

Lie, lie, fucking lie.

Bile rises in my throat at his words, at the way he speaks of me like I'm nothing more than a piece of meat to be sold off. But beneath the disgust, a cold fury takes root, spreading through my veins like ice. I'm sick of this. Of all of it. I'm sick of the games, the beatings, the threats. I'm sick of seeing the fear in my mama's eyes.

As Alessio continues his power speech, I take a single step forward, just as all the lights in the club go off, thrusting us into pitch darkness.

It's as easy as breathing to pull the knife from under my dress where it presses snugly against my overheated skin. It's even easier to drag it across Alessio's throat from behind.

The warm rush of his blood spilling over my hand is gives me a sick kind of thrill. His gasping, gurgling breaths are muffled by the sound of distressed voices filling the room as alphas try to figure out what happened to the lights.

The lights flare back to life, harsh and blinding after the pitch darkness. Chaos erupts as the alphas blink in confusion, their eyes adjusting to the sudden illumination. And then the screams begin, rising in a discordant chorus as they finally see Alessio's lifeless body crumpled at my feet, his blood pooling around my ivory heels.

For a heartbeat, there is only shocked silence. The alphas stare at me, their faces a mix of horror and disbelief. I meet their gazes defiantly, my chin lifted, the bloody knife still clutched in my hand. Let them see. Let them know what happens when you push an omega too far.

And then, all hell breaks loose.

Gunshots shatter the stunned silence, ringing out from every corner of the room. The alphas scramble for cover, shouting and cursing as they try to locate the source of the attack. But it's too late. My alphas are already among them, moving with the deadly grace of trained killers.

Silas is perched on the balcony, a sniper rifle nestled against his shoulder as he methodically picks off targets. For a moment, a chocked laugh escapes me. How in the ever loving fuck did he get a sniper rifle? Each shot finds its mark with ruthless precision, alphas dropping like marionettes with their strings cut.

Dante is a whirlwind of brutal efficiency, his face a mask of cold fury as he cuts through the crowd. His Glock is working overtime, dropping alphas left and right.

Alphas are rushing at the doors, but they've been locked from the outside, trapping them inside with the Carbones on the rampage.

Distantly, I see Alpha Marco take a bullet to chest, and internally cheer.

I waste no time and rush to the right of the main stage, trying not to slip in Alessio's pooling blood. Rosa has fallen off the alpha's lap and onto the floor. Omegas are scrambling all over the room as bullets fly.

I leap off the stage, my heels slipping in the slick blood as I rush to Rosa's side. She's curled on the floor, hands clamped over her ears, eyes wide with terror. I drop to my knees beside her, grabbing her shoulders.

"Rosa! Rosa, look at me!" I shout over the deafening gunfire and screams. Her frightened green eyes meet mine, brimming with tears. "You have to get out of here. Run to the dressing rooms and hide until it's over, okay?"

She stares at me uncomprehendingly for a moment, then nods, struggling to her feet. I help her up, my heart clenching at how frail she feels in my arms. "Go, now!" I urge, giving her a push towards the stage.

Rosa stumbles forward, casting one last desperate look over her shoulder before disappearing behind the velvet curtains. I turn back to the chaos, my blood singing with adrenaline.

The alphas are in full panic now, trampling each other in their frantic attempts to escape the hail of bullets. Some futilely try to return fire, but they're no match for my alphas' deadly precision. The air is thick with the coppery scent of blood and the acrid tang of gunpowder.

Hector is a one-man army, his powerful frame moving through the mayhem like a tank. His gun has long since run out of ammo, and yet he pulls out another. Where the fuck are they getting all this fire power? I realize quickly that they must have been planning shit long before they brought me into it.

I spot Sam across the room, locked in vicious hand-to-hand combat with a burly alpha. Even outnumbered, Sam moves with the fluid grace of a natural born fighter, his strikes precise and devastating. The alpha crumples to the ground and Sam wastes no time putting a bullet between his eyes before moving on to his next target.

Pride surges through me at the sight of my mates painting the walls red with the blood of my enemies. This is the revenge I've dreamed of for so long, finally made flesh.

Suddenly, a set of doors on the far side of the room bursts open, the crash of splintering wood barely audible over the cacophony of violence. I whip around, expecting another wave of hostile alphas, but instead find myself staring at a group of familiar faces.

Micah, the Carbone's cousin, strides through the shattered doors, flanked by several of the pack's old bodyguards from Oregon. They move with the lethal grace of predators, their eyes cold and focused as they survey the carnage.

Relief floods through me at the sight of them. Backup. The Carbones must have called them in, anticipating the chaos that would unfold tonight. I have no love for the three Carbone cousins. The alphas I witnessed mate an omega under their father's orders gleefully. But if they're here to pledge loyalty to the new leaders of the Carbone pack and all it's businesses, then who am I to complain?

Micah catches my eye across the room, giving me a curt nod before signaling to his men. They fan out quickly, seamlessly integrating into the fray.

A deafening explosion rocks the ballroom as a massive fireball erupts from behind the bar. The force of the blast sends shattered glass and splintered wood flying, the heat searing my skin even from a distance. Thick, black smoke begins to pour out, rapidly filling the room with an acrid haze.

Through the chaos, I hear Hector's booming voice cut through the din. "Bella! Get out of here, now!" His eyes are wild with fear as he gestures frantically towards the stage where Rosa disappeared.

I nod, turning on my heel to run after my sister. My heart pounds in my throat, adrenaline surging through my veins as I dodge fallen bodies and burning debris. The smoke stings my eyes, making them water as I struggle to see through the thickening cloud.

But just as I reach the edge of the stage, a cold voice stops me dead in my tracks. "Not so fast, you little bitch."

I spin around to find Liam emerging from the haze, his once immaculate suit now torn and stained with blood. His eyes glitter with malice as he levels a gun at my chest, a cruel smirk twisting his lips. "You didn't really think it would be that easy, did you?"

Time seems to slow as I stare down the barrel of the gun, my breath catching in my throat. I see his finger tighten on the trigger, the tiny movement sealing my fate.

The crack of the gunshot splits the air, the sound drowned out by the chaos erupting around us. For a heartbeat, I feel nothing. And then, a searing pain lances through my abdomen, stealing the breath from my lungs.

I look down in disbelief to see a crimson stain blooming across the ivory silk of my dress, the fabric quickly turning dark with blood. My blood. The pain hits me then, a white-hot agony that sends me staggering back, my hand pressed to the wound.

Liam's laughter cuts through the haze of pain, cold and cruel. "Not so untouchable now, are you?" He sneers, the gun still trained on me as I sink to my knees.

The world swims around me, the ballroom fading in and out of focus. I hear my mates shouting my name, their voices raw with fear and rage. But they sound distant, muffled, as if I'm hearing them from underwater. All I can focus on is the burning pain radiating through my body and the cold, hard floor beneath my knees.

Smoke billows around us, thick and choking, stinging my eyes and searing my lungs. The flames behind the bar are spreading, licking up the walls, the heat intense even from a distance. The sprinklers have kicked on, but they do little to quell the inferno. Water rains down, mingling with the blood and ash on the floor.

I'm going to die tonight after all.