SUN #5
Like traveling, maybe.
Dogger disappeared, but my dream of the open highways didn’t.
I’ve always wanted to just… go. To hit the road and keep going until it ends. And it never really does. To find out what’s waiting around the next bend, what’s behind the next mountain, the next forest, the next city.
But instead of chasing that, I went looking for trouble. And like they say, if you go looking, you’ll find it.
Footsteps in the hallway.
My heart picks up, but I don’t move. I know better. No one’s coming to save me.
A sharp click of the lock, and the door swings open.
It’s the same guard.
"You’re coming with me," he says flatly.
I could throw a tantrum, dig in my heels, but what’s the point? He’ll just start dragging me, and my body already hurts like hell.
So I get up and follow. His face is blank. Just like Anzo’s. Everyone here wears the same mask, like they’re ashamed of emotions. As if feelings are weakness. And maybe they really believe that.
The guard leads me through dim corridors lined with doors. We descend a floor.
I look around, trying to memorize everything, but there’s not much to remember, just winding hallways.
Eventually, we stop in front of a set of slightly larger doors. Dark wood, with a keypad on the side.
The guard punches in a code, opens the door, and gestures for me to go in. I enter because what the hell else am I supposed to do?
And now I’m standing in a massive office, the kind you’d expect in a corporate tower: huge desk, leather chair, bookshelves perfectly lined with hardcovers. A few armchairs are arranged for meetings or interrogations or whatever the hell they do here.
The windows are tall, like something out of an old mansion. They’re half-covered with thick drapes, yeah, actual curtains, not blinds. The dusty kind you see in vampire castle movies.
Anzo is sitting behind the desk. And just like that, we’re alone.
For a moment, a thought flashes through my mind: what if I lunged at him, snapped his neck?
I’m an alpha. He’s a beta. I’m eighteen, sure, but our strength isn’t even comparable.
Alphas have the strength of full-grown gorillas.
Our testosterone gives us speed, endurance and strength, more fast-twitch muscle fibers that give us explosive power. We also have denser bones.
Betas? They're just average.
But then again… what if he activates the collar again and shocks me senseless? Can I really make a move before that happens? Or will I just end up twitching on the floor again?
I shut the thought down. I need to stop thinking like someone desperate and start thinking like someone strategic. Every move has to be calculated.
So I stand in front of him, about ten feet from the desk, and say nothing. Just stare.
We lock eyes for a good thirty seconds. I hold it.
Fuck, I’m not speaking first. I wait. And eventually, he moves.
He raises his finger and makes a slow, downward gesture.
I have no clue what it means, but I take a guess. I drop to my knees. Just to see if that’s what he wants.
It is. I can feel it, even though his face shows nothing.
I kneel there in silence, waiting. Feeling stupid.
Eventually, Anzo stands. My heart speeds up a little. His doesn’t. His heartbeat is slow, steady.
Then he speaks.
"If you had to choose one member of your family to die first… who would it be?"
What? A chill runs straight down my spine.
"I don’t want anyone in my family to die," I say, forcing my voice to stay even. It takes a lot.
"But you have to choose. Because if it’s not them, then it’s going to be you."
"Then let it be me," I say firmly. "My family doesn’t deserve to suffer for my fuckups. That much is certain."
"How noble of you. But what if you don’t get that choice? What if someone absolutely has to die, and if you don’t pick… it’ll be your dad."
It’s official. This guy is insane.
His words are like ice picks sliding down my throat. Swallowing hurts. Even my saliva feels frozen.
Anzo’s eyes stay impassive.
"I’m waiting," he says.
Waves of cold take over my body. I start trembling.
"Please don’t do this," I whisper. "Please…"
Tears well up in my eyes. A moment later, I’m full-on sobbing, like the scared teen I am.
Yes. Five minutes with Anzo in the same room, and I’m falling apart.
I clasp my hands in front of me like a begging cat.
"Please, just leave him alone! My dad’s been through hell; he used to be a slave. I’m begging you, let him be happy! If you kill him, you’ll destroy my father too, they’re True Mates!"
The words tumble out of me before I can stop them, and I realize how pathetic I sound.
Like I’m stupid enough to think pleading could touch the heart of a mafia boss.
All I’m really doing is showing him what matters to me, handing him my weaknesses on a silver platter, the worst possible move with someone like him.
And that’s when I see it. A faint smile flickers across Anzo’s face. Like he’s cracked me.
I thought I was some badass, top of my game, but of course not. I’m just a kid. I don’t think five moves ahead like Anzo does.
"That’s why I asked for someone you care about the least, pet. Pick that person."
"Are they going to die?"
"Not necessarily. Depends entirely on you."
I squeeze my eyes shut and take a slow, deep breath. Then I open them again.
I hesitate. My gaze drifts, catching something behind Anzo.
A wall at the back of the room, cluttered with educational posters, probably part of last year’s Beta Empowerment campaign led by Dante Moll.
"BETA LIVES MATTER"
"WE’RE SECOND IN NAME, NOT IN WORTH"
"BETAS HOLD CIVILIZATION TOGETHER"
"BETAS: THE REAL STRENGTH"
And a dozen other slogans, all loud and desperate in their own way.
I pause. What I’m about to do is awful, but I decide to play his game.
"Winter," I say. "He’s the one I’m least close to."
Anzo’s brow twitches. He takes a step back toward his desk and glances at the laptop there. Reads something, looks back at me.
"Winter… He’s the only beta among your siblings, right?"
"That’s right."
I watch him carefully, but he remains visibly unfazed.
"Why him, exactly?"
"Like I said, we’re not close."
"Funny," he says, eyes still on the screen. "According to the file I was shown about your family, the one you’re least close to is your brother River. The one who ran away before you were even born. Wouldn’t that be more accurate?"
Shit. So he does have a file on us. He’s way too prepared…
"You asked who I’m least close to, not who I have no relationship with at all. I’ve never even met River. I wouldn’t recognize him on the street." I try to keep my voice steady, but it’s shaking anyway.
"Fair enough," he says with a nod. "Winter, then."
My jaw clenches.
"Please don’t. Don’t hurt my siblings. Whatever I did, it’s on me."
Anzo laughs. But it’s not real laughter, it’s more like a string of mocking, hollow noises.
"You really think that kind of speech would work on me? That I’d just stop because you beg me to? Some people just don’t stop. Ever. No matter how loud you cry."
His tone is cold, but there’s something about the way he says it, like it’s personal. But I can’t be sure.
"You see, whether someone’s innocent or guilty doesn’t mean shit to me. If I can use them to get what I want, then that’s exactly what I’ll do."
My eyes fill with even more tears.
"I’ll do anything. Anything you want. Just leave my family out of it," I whisper, my whole body trembling, crumbling, coming apart.
So much for my swagger.
Anzo tilts his head, amused in a sick kind of way.
"Dear Fate. I’ve broken a lot of people, but you… you’re definitely in the top five easiest."
I stay silent. What could I even say?
"First you act like you’re some prize, hard to get. Like you’re some virgin saint. Which you’re definitely not. Then all that mouthy attitude, acting like you’re the shit. And look at you now. Just a pathetic little brat."
He steps closer.
"What now? Quiet as a mouse, huh? Probably already scheming. Thinking if you just play the obedient little victim, you’ll earn my trust and find some way to slip through the cracks."
I swallow hard. He’s not like Martin or Diego, or Misha or Stephen… Obviously.
Why the hell did I think I could handle this?
If I’d never stood up that day in the restaurant and dragged Martin over to that table…
None of this would’ve happened. I’d still be living my spoiled little life, rotating boys every two months like they’re fashion accessories.
A cold sweat breaks out on my skin as I start to realize I might not have the brainpower to beat Anzo.
The only thing I can do now is survive, and hope someone notices I’m missing.
That’s my new plan.
Survive.
"You’re already thinking up a new plan, aren’t you?" Anzo says mercilessly.
He picks something up off the desk.
My phone.
For a second, I let myself hope he doesn’t know the passcode. But of course, he’s got his ways. He taps in a few letters, and the screen lights up.
I stare, stunned.
"If you think anyone’s going to notice you’re gone, think again. I’ve already sent a message to your agent, since he kept asking in your DMs about some new gig. You’re taking a short leave."
I can’t stop it. It bursts out of me.
"My dad will figure something’s wrong, he will! I’m supposed to start college in mid-September, and now that you’ve turned on my phone, it’s pinging from this location, your place! The cops will trace it—"
Anzo actually laughs. For real this time. Like I’ve just told the funniest joke he’s ever heard.
"I think the officers I’ve got on my payroll will handle that tiny complication."
I shut my eyes tight. Clench my fists. And then I snap.
"What the hell do you want from me!? Just tell me already!"
"Oh, I want a lot of things," he says calmly.
"What’s the main one?"
"Obedience."
"Will I survive this?"
"That’s up to you."
"Fine. What’s my first task?" I ask bitterly, my hands on the floor, my head low. "You want me to suck you off? We can start now. Or are you planning to fuck me? I’m ready!"