Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5

BELLA

I stare down at the drug dealer's lifeless body, his blood slowly pooling on the dirty concrete floor of the abandoned warehouse. The coppery smell mingles with the musty odors of neglect and decay. I wipe my blade clean on his grimy shirt before returning it to the sheath strapped to my thigh under my black dress.

His terrified eyes stare vacantly at the rusted metal beams and shattered skylights above. He didn't know much in the end, despite my "persuasive" interrogation tactics. Just a few vague hints about a meeting with some lower level pack goons next week. Hardly worth the bloody mess and effort. But what choice did I have? When the the De Luca alphas say jump, I fucking jump. It's either that or they'll take my defiance out on my mama, who I have yet to lay eyes on.

I'm so tired of doing their dirty work, carrying out the vicious brutality needed to maintain our territory and power. My hands are forever stained with the blood of the Carbone enemies. How many throats have I slit in dark alleys and abandoned buildings like this? How many pleas for mercy have I ignored as I tortured men for information to protect the pack?

All I wanted was to be free for one year and they couldn't even give me that. This is the third job this month, which is more than what I used to be given before my little vacation. Something tells me this is my fathers' way of dragging out my punishment, and reminding me of why I can never really leave.

I wonder if the guys know yet. Surely Sam would have told them by now, right? A part of me thought that maybe my old bodyguard would have followed me back to the pack when he discovered I'd left in the middle of the night, but there hasn't been so much as a fucking whisper. While I'm glad he hasn't done something reckless that might get him killed, it still kind of hurts. I wonder if he's still with Hector, Dante and Silas. Are they trying to find me? Do they hate me as much as I hate myself?

I shake my head, pushing aside thoughts of the guys. I can't afford to dwell on them right now. Not when I'm still in the heart of enemy territory.

Stepping carefully around the expanding pool of blood, I make my way to the rusted metal door. I pause and listen intently for any signs of movement outside. The last thing I need is to get caught at the scene by some lowlife junkie looking for a fix.

Silence. The coast seems clear.

I ease the door open, wincing as it creaks loudly on corroded hinges. Dim light filters into the dank space from a single flickering street lamp across the desolate road. I slip out into the night, hugging the shadows as I head swiftly yet stealthily towards my hidden motorcycle.

The rumble of the engine shatters the eerie stillness as I rev the accelerator and speed off into the darkness. The cold night air whips across my face, drying the sheen of sweat on my brow. I keep my eyes locked ahead, not daring to glance in the rearview mirrors. Looking back is a luxury I can't afford, in more ways than one.

I ride through the empty streets, desperate to return to the safety of the pack mansion and scrub away the stench of death that clings to me. But as I stand under scalding water in the shower, I know that the taint will never fully be washed away. It's a permanent mark on my soul, a reminder of the savage side of myself that I try so hard to suppress. No matter how much I scrub or how many times I apologize, it will always be a part of me, ingrained in my very being.

Two hours later, I towel off and slip into a tank top and shorts, I catch my reflection in the foggy mirror. Cold amber eyes rimmed with thick lashes stare back at me, set in a face that's deceptively delicate. With my damp midnight blue hair tumbling over my shoulders, I look almost innocent. But I know the truth. I'm a monster, a soulless creature who destroys lives without hesitation or remorse.

The alarm on my phone goes off, telling me it's time to meet Nic for training. I huff, stuffing my feet into my trainers. Why do I even need these fucking training classes still? It's not like I don't know how to fight, kill and maim. But the alphas want me in tip-top shape. Secretly, I think they just like torturing me.

A one-two punch catches me off guard. Wiping the spittle from my cheek, I turn to glare at the young guard Alessio has training me. He and I have a rather… interesting past, to say the least, and I don't think he took too kindly to my leaving.

Nic is twenty-three years old, but he's one of the largest men I've ever seen. Not fat—just mind-bogglingly large. My limbs still remember the weight of him, back when he spent his nights pounding me into my mattress instead of guarding my door like he was supposed to. This was long before Sam came into the picture. Before his responsibilities graduated beyond babysitting the omega.

He's a Russian alpha, with a thick accent and shiny chocolate hair that he wears in a side fade with the top part just a little longer. His skin is olive colored, but his eyes contrast strikingly in a seawater type green that sometimes gives way to blue. He's a good looking man, I'll admit, but sadly, his personality is a bit lacking these days. I've not seen him smile a single time since returning to this training room—the same room in a different building on my pack estate that I trained in for most of my early adolescence.

Nic comes from a prestigious pack from overseas, and has been here since I was twelve, training under my fathers. He's supposed to lead his own pack when he returns home one day. It makes me trust him even less. His alpha pheromones surround me, making it difficult to channel my breathing. I don't want my body to respond to him the same way it did with the guys. He was a good fuck back in the day. Back when I was angry and grieving the innocence I once had. But he was loyal to the Carbones, and I hated him for it.

I hate being back in this place. Too many fucking memories. For now, I'll take advantage of more training until I can figure out a way out of here. I'll play the obedient daughter until I figure out what happened to Mama, and how the hell I can reach the guys without the alphas finding out and killing them.

Nic slights to his right, sweeping out a long leg—intent on knocking me to the ground, but I avoid it easily, leaping right over it and pivoting just in time to miss another punch to the jaw. Smirking, I raise a black brow in defiance, to which Nic only rolls his eyes before circling again.

We've been doing this dance for about an hour now, but my energy levels are high, rush of adrenaline after this last job.

I go down hard, slamming into the mats, not even using my shoulder to brace myself. The breath is forced from my body as I lay there staring at the ceiling, seeing stars circle over my head.

"Your vacation has made you weak, printsessa ," Nic whispers. He still hasn't rolled off my body. He weighs a ton and it's making it harder for me to catch a new breath. Nic's face is too close to mine.

Grumbling, I turn my face towards the infuriating man and glare daggers through his thick skull. "Vacation? You mean getting kidnapped and almost sold to a rival alpha pack? That vacation?" I huff, wriggling beneath the man. "Excuse me if i'm a bit rusty."

Nic just stares, glaring right into my eyes and it's impossible to tell what he's is thinking. His jaw is clenched. "You need to be better," he rumbles quietly—so quiet I almost think I didn't hear him right.

"Wha—" I start to say, but suddenly his weight leaves me and I find myself rolling to the side and gasping for precious air.

"We're done for today." Nic walks to the door and knocks twice, only for two guards to open up. He nods to the guard and says something I don't quite catch before glancing back at me. "Get changed.The alphas are expecting company."

My body locks up. Company never means something good. Company means business, and business means someone gets hurt. I don't respond to the asshole. I just take my leave, breezing past them, knowing their eyes are still on me—tracking me down the hallway. There's been a shift since I've been home. Something's different. I could feel it the moment I was escorted onto that airplane. The eyes I feel on me at all times seem a little more assessing than they used to.

I'm a threat now. A real threat.

Back in my bedroom, the first thing I notice after tearing my eyes from my ceiling once again, is a small black package sitting atop my plush red duvet. There's no bow or card anywhere that I can see, but the box sits ominously in the center of the bed—as if daring me to take a peek.

Sniffing, I stalk to my private bathroom for yet another shower. I smell like sweat and defeat. Nic really busted my ass out there and it's my own damn fault for letting myself become distracted. Stripping off my workout clothes, I turn my shower on as hot as it can possibly go before stepping in. Heat rushes over my skin, washing away the sweat and grime of the day, masking the tears that run down my cheeks.

This is the only time I let myself cry—when there's no one watching.

As I scrub my hair with my favorite jasmine scented shampoo, I suck in a short hiccuping sob, because it's as if I can feel fantom fingertips skimming the skin of my back. Ghostly lips caress my neck and my jaw—the cold tingle of metal makes me shiver.

Was it only a month ago that Hector took me in the shower?

The sobs come harder now, needing to cleanse my body of this grief. A month in my old bed alone without any of my men to hold me has been hell on Earth. I often wake in the night shivering, reaching across the mattress for warm skin but finding only an icy pillow. That's when the real, bone-deep, teeth-rattling grief sets in.

After the shower, I trudge into my room, reluctant, yet resolved to just get the night over with. Inside the ominous black box is a white dress that makes me cringe all over. It's not that the dress isn't absolutely beautiful—it definitely is. It's what the dress means that has me breathing a little shallower.

White—the color of virginity, the color of weakness and purity.

Alessio did this to spite me, I just know it. He did this to embarrass and shame me for all his men watch and mock. My cheeks are already pink as I pluck the offensive garment from the box and hold it to my naked body. It's a shame I hate it so much, it really is a pretty dress, and soft too—like silk. It probably is.

After slathering my body with expensive lotion, I slip the thing on and smooth out the nonexistent wrinkles. As expected, the dress fits me perfectly, hitting right at my thigh and dipping dangerously low in a V at my chest. Thank the gods I'm not at all top heavy, otherwise it would just look ridiculous.

I blow dry my long blue hair, smiling to myself in the mirror. I only smile because I know how much the blue hue irks the alphas. But they have yet to order me to change it. It's starting to become a little game I enjoy playing with the evil assholes—even if they're unaware of it.

There's a small part of me—however daring, that needs to fuck with the rules a little. They've done nothing but ruin the lives of everyone they come in contact with without a single ounce of remorse. They deserve a little rebellion in their lives.

Slipping on some nude heels, I make my way to the door, only to find—surprise, surprise, Nic, on the other side. He turns when I step through the doorway, but I don't miss the way his greenish eyes widen as they scan my body before shuttering once more and looking away.

He clenches his jaw, but his nostrils flare. I have no idea why I'm getting satisfaction from his overly alpha response. I have absolutely zero interest in the behemoth anymore, but messing with his mind is an endless source of entertainment in my otherwise bleak world these days.

Instead of letting him lead me though a house I am as familiar with as the back of my own hand, I let him brood behind me as I take the long way down—making sure to take my sweet ass time the entire way. I have no idea who we're going to be dining with tonight, but I also don't really give a shit either.