Knot So Broken: A Dark Mafia Omegaverse

1. Chapter One

Chapter One

T he sting of the slap across my face ached, but I knew the punishment would be worse if I made a sound. I had learned my lesson the hard way. Many times. It took me years until I finally learnt to not whimper during my punishments. Any sound made him angrier, my damnation always creative and brutal.

“You are a fucking disappointment, Kennedy.”

I curl in further on myself.

It was always the same thing.

A disappointment. An embarrassment to his name.

My father would always find any way he could put me down.

His insults used to crush me. But they don’t anymore.

I have become so used to hearing them, now I believe him.

I am a disappointment. I am an embarrassment to him and my mother. Maybe that's why she killed herself.

I can’t blame her. I want to kill myself too. Allow myself to be taken by the reaper. But I don’t deserve to be pain free. I don’t deserve the freedom that death would afford me. After all, I’m the reason she is dead.

I was too much for her to look after. I cried too much. Asked for too much. My face offended her.

I’ve heard a multitude of reasons why she took her own life.

I have been terrorized by them.

Sometimes I imagine that it was the only way that she could escape him. I can’t remember much from when she was alive but I do remember the consistent screaming.

There were nights where I would have to hide in my closet just to find some respite from the fighting. After a while I just moved all of my bedding in there. One night it all just stopped.

The screaming stopped. The fighting stopped.

It was just silence.

For a day it was quiet.

Until the nightmare turned on me.

I take in a shuddering breath as I will myself to not react.

His spit hits my face as he continues to hurl insults at me. I block out his words allowing myself to crawl into the recesses of my mind.

A place where he can’t hurt me. That place he can’t find me.

I’m shocked out of my thoughts as I smack up against the wall. Pain explodes through my body.

“Fucking stupid Omega!”

I curl in on myself further again. The sharp pain in my side lets me know a rib is broken. It's not the first time he's broken them. Over the years I’m sure he has managed to break the majority of the bones in my body.

I suffer through each blow, waiting until he decides it's over .

I didn’t expect to be dealt a punishment for my first day of my final year of university but I guess he is just keeping up with tradition, just like he has every other year. I think the other students just expect me to come to class covered in bruises now. That's if they even notice me.

I have always faded into the background. I prefer it that way.

I’ve isolated myself completely that no one even pays me attention anymore. If I do have to interact with people, they are kind but they never dig any deeper. Every interaction is kept at surface level.

A part of me longs for that connection. The Omega inside of me screams for a pack. But, no one will want me now.

Not the Omega who can’t do anything right. The one covered in marks because she is unable to listen to basic instructions.

The defective one. The broken one.

The reasonable side of me has come to terms with the fact that I will never find my place. That this will forever be my destiny.

Yet, I can’t stop the thoughts that linger in my mind late at night curled up on my cot. The faceless Alphas that I pray will come and take me from the world I am trapped in. I dream of Alphas that will look past the bruising, that will see who I am underneath the purple that mars my skin.

But I don’t know if that would even be achievable. Even if I was blessed to find my scent matches, would I even have a personality under the years of abuse? Or has every hit taken away every part of me already?

Is there only a bare shell left?

My father lays one more firm kick into my ribs and I am forced to bite the inside of my cheek so I don’t make a sound. Not turning up to school isn’t an option. Failure isn’t an option .

“Get out of my sight,” he says after a moment as I’m forced to swallow the blood that fills my mouth.

On shaky legs, I slowly begin to stand. I bite down on the already open wound in my mouth, the metallic taste of my blood filling my mouth. It distracts me from the pain in my ribs at least.

I grab my bag off the floor from where I was forced to drop it after being shoved just as I had taken a step off the stairs.

I can’t even remember what this punishment was for. Did I walk too heavily down the stairs? It wouldn’t be the first time he has considered that enough of a violation to discipline me.

I’ve learnt over the years on where to walk so I don’t make as much noise. The third step has a slight squeak in it. So does the fifteenth.

My body screams at me as I haul the backpack onto my shoulders. Once the weight is settled on my shoulders, I tuck my head down and make a beeline for the door. Head down. Eyes to the floor. Light steps.

I count my blessings that I don’t make another mistake as I quietly open the front door and shut it silently behind me.

My steps are rushed as I move down the sidewalk.

I can’t be late. Not for my first day.

The walk to Ridgeview Academy takes a good thirty minutes each morning. I only have twenty minutes to get there thanks to my encounter this morning. Each step takes the breath out of me but I force myself to keep moving.

I know my father has contacts at the school that keep an eye on me, and will report back to him, every single indiscretion.

I’ve tried to pinpoint who it could be but no one has ever stood out to me. Hence why it's better to keep to myself completely.

No distractions means less discipline .

At this stage I would do anything for a bit of reprieve.

I go to cross the street as I near the gates of the school, but stumble back as a blacked out SUV darts out in front of me.

My hands break my fall and I feel the broken pieces of my ribs grind. I blow out a breath as I look at the retreating car.

Not once do the taillights break, nor does the car slow down.

I roll my eyes as I pull myself up off the ground, dusting the dirt and leaves that now cover my jeans.

Filth isn’t tolerated. It would be damaging for my father’s daughter to be seen in anything but the best.

I curse the driver of the car for the beat down in my future. No doubt the bird in my father’s ear will hear about this moment by this afternoon. There goes my hope of reprieve. The bell rings just as I pull open the door to the school.

Back when my Mom was still alive, I dreamt of what my schooling years might have looked like. What girl didn’t hope of becoming high school sweethearts with their pack? Makeout sessions under the bleachers during recess. Love letters tucked away in lockers. Gentle kisses on the cheek after being dropped at your class.

That girl was stupid. That was never going to be my life.

It’s too late now for that. It’s nothing but a silly little fantasy for a delusional Omega. By now, the majority of my classmates have already formed packs anyway. I was destined for this. Being a chess piece in my father’s plans.

Plans that I still haven’t been made privy to. His lingering looks these past few years have unsettled me though.

What does he plan on doing with me? If it's nothing, why can’t he just leave me alone? Dump me on the side of the road for all I care. I wouldn’t ever go back. I would gladly dye my hair a different color and call myself a different name. Ellie sounds nice.

But again, that will never happen. It's just something I tell myself to make the days easier. I know that I’m never going to escape this life. Not if I want to leave with it intact.

I collapse into one of the desks at the back of the room. First up is Home Room. It has never made sense to me as to why they continue the Home Room tradition into university. It seems out of place but I refuse to question it.

Ridgeview is different from the other higher education campuses I have seen on TV. It’s much more structured. In a pamphlet I saw, they said something about it setting us up for what to expect in the real world.

I sigh to myself as I watch the rest of the students filter into the room. The popular Omegas giggle between each other as they eye off the bulging Alphas finding their seats. I watch on with slight amusement and longing, wishing that I could live that kind of carefree life with one of the only problems being finding my pack. Being able to have what would

resemble a normal university experience before the joys of the real world come weighing down on our shoulders. But in a way, I also am glad I’m not like them. The cattiness that is hidden behind hands, covering whispers and arguments over emerging packs, just doesn't seem like my cup of tea.

The worst bit is I think the Alphas enjoy being fought over. They appreciate the fight and the determination the Omegas go to just for a taste of an Alpha's knot. The thought of going to that much trouble just doesn’t seem like something I’m interested in, or able to be. But why do I long for it, even though it will never be for me?

Why does the knowledge that I will never find my true pack break apart my soul even though I have known this for a long time?

I rest my head on my hands, closing my eyes for a moment as I take a few breaths, filtering out the noise that surrounds me in an attempt to calm my peaking anxiety. Removing a hand from where it holds my head, I place it against my racing heart as I start to feel the beginnings of a panic attack come on.

I curse myself for allowing outside influences to mess with me. I allowed myself to get caught up in the what-ifs and what-could-have-beens, allowed myself to drift too far from reality and now I am paying the price.

In the middle of a slowly filling classroom.

On the first day of my final year of university.

My scent that normally resembles a soft musk burns my nose, and my ears start to ring. I know that if I was to lift my head and open my eyes, my vision would be blurry. My breath quickens and I try to bury my head further in on myself.

Just as I begin to move my head, a hand snakes its way under my chin and lifts my head up.

I’m shocked out of what was a slippery slope into embarrassment as I breathe in the scent of a freshly made vanilla mocha.

Greedily, I inhale the scent, allowing the serenity the smell offers me to filter into my system.

“Are you okay, love?” The husky voice breaks through my resolve. It feels like his four words penetrate something inside of me.

I manage to shake my head, my eyes still firmly shut .

The man still holding my chin lets out a low growl that sends shivers over my spine. I go to curl in on myself instead of just bracing for what I’m sure will be a sting from a slap. Growls in the past from my father have always led to punishments. Even though the man that sired me is a Beta, he still gives it a red hot go, no matter how ridiculous he sounds.

I wait for what feels like forever, but nothing comes. There is no sting of a slap. No burn on my cheek. Nothing.

“Open your eyes,” the voice says in a low voice. The sound is gentle and for some reason, it feels safe.

A feeling I haven’t felt for a long time.

A feeling that feels as foreign to me as the touch holding my chin in a light grip. I allow my face to relax slightly as I will myself to open my eyes. Slowly they crack open. I blink away the bright light as it blurs my vision as I come face to face with the man standing in front of me.

My eyes meet light brown ones cascaded by shaggy blonde hair that falls messily around the man's chiseled features.

My gaze travels down his cut jaw, over his throat that bobs under my perusal. I can’t help myself as I allow my gaze to continue down his lean body that is covered by a tight t-shirt. I gulp, as I allow my gaze to return back up to his.

A knowing smile graces the man's lips as he looks down on me. It feels like his eyes are searing into mine.

I feel my cheeks heat under his study.

“Can you take a deep breath for me?” the man asks and I instantly nod. I don’t know if it's the fact that he is obviously an Alpha - or something else - but every facet of my being wants to follow what he says .

I take in a deep breath as his eyes heat with appreciation.

Once my lungs are filled to capacity, I hold it. I don’t allow myself to let the breath go, even when my body demands me to.

My eyes stay locked on the stranger in front of me, just as his eyes remain locked on mine. It's like we are caught in some kind of weird trance.

I can’t deny that I am completely enamoured by him. The memory of his scent has already burned itself into my brain and I can’t help but crave something sweet. Not only that, but this man is fucking gorgeous.

It would be safe to say that he is one of the most attractive men I have ever seen in my life.

It also wouldn’t be a stretch to say that he knows this fact about himself. But from the few seconds I have had to take him in, I don’t think he would allow it to change who he actually is. That instead he is humble. A far stretch from the men that my father surrounds himself with.

They are attractive and they use their knowledge of that fact to get exactly what they want.

Narcissistic as fuck.

I war with myself as to why I get that vibe from him but I choose not to question it. My instincts haven’t led me astray yet.

Just as I feel like I am going to pass out, his lip twitches and he murmurs, “Good girl. Now out.”

My breath rushes out in a wave as my stomach clenches at the praise. I slowly suck in another breath and let it out slowly.

“Are you okay now?” he asks, cocking his head slightly.

“I will be,” I say, my voice meek thanks to the attack .

A shiver runs over his body and his eyes heat.

My own blow wide as he tightens his hold on my chin before leaning down and drawing in a breath of my scent.

He groans before pulling back away. His eyes are like fire, a mixture of lust and disbelief run across his features.

“Delicious, love.”

Another shiver runs over my body. I bring up a hand and rub it over my goosebump covered arms in an attempt to wish them away.

“What’s your name?” he asks as he lets his hand fall from my chin.

“Kennedy,” I reply, “Yours?

His smile brightens, “Theo. Nice to meet you. Can I sit?” he asks, nodding towards the chair that sits vacant beside me.

For a moment, I’m stunned. No one has ever asked to sit beside me. No one has even taken a moment to ask what my name is.

Yet Theo stands in front of me shuffling side to side as he waits for me to answer him while I sit staring at him like a stunned mullet.

God, no wonder why no one has even bothered to push past my defences. I am fucking pathetic. An embarrassment to my name. I literally had a panic attack that I had to be pulled

out from by a stranger. Internally, I scoff at how pitiful I am.

Then when he asks to sit, I stare at him with as much emotion as a fucking doorknob. Damn Kennedy, you are a real fucking catch.

I eventually nod my head, “Ah yeah, sure.” I manage to stutter out.

Theo just smiles, walking around the desks before pulling out the chair and collapsing into it. His first period books and pens clatter to the desk where he carelessly throws them. He turns his head and graces me with another breathtaking smile. It feels strange to have someone's attention like this. Especially someone that doesn’t make your skin crawl like my father’s friends do.

Their lingering stares and wondering hands make my stomach clench in a way that is completely different to the way it did when Theo called me a good girl. I turn my head quickly away from him, wincing as I’m forced to clutch my ribs at the spike of pain due to the fast movement.

Theo’s growl echoes throughout the room. My peers all snap their heads towards where Theo is now looming in my peripheral.

“What's wrong? Are you hurt? Show me where you are hurt.” He demands. I can’t help the whimper that escapes at the tone of his voice. Fuck.