Chapter 4 #2
I stared at him, searching for the lie and finding none.
The realization that my father might actually have approved this—might have given these men permission to do whatever they wanted with me—was more chilling than the water dripping from my hair.
It was exactly the kind of callous disregard I’d come to expect from the man who’d locked me away for eight years because my biology embarrassed him.
“You’re lying,” I said, but uncertainty made the accusation weak. “My father’s an asshole, but even he wouldn’t authorize the alpha three-ring circus to play dress-up with his son.”
“Call him and check,” Marco suggested with a shrug. “Oh wait, you can’t. How inconvenient for your righteous indignation.”
I felt a surge of genuine panic. I was alone in the forest with three alphas who had already demonstrated their willingness to manhandle me.
Now they were saying they intended to keep me overnight, dressed in nothing but a borrowed shirt that barely covered my essential parts.
This wasn’t just a detour on my escape route—this was a full-blown nightmare with abs.
“This is insane,” I said, trying to keep the rising anxiety from my voice.
“You can’t just decide to keep me like I’m some lost puppy you found in the woods.
What’s next, a collar with a little bell and ‘If found, please return to Stefano’s Alpha Emporium’?
Maybe a cute little dog bed by the fire where I can curl up at your feet? ”
Something dark flashed in Stefano's cobalt-blue eyes at my sarcastic suggestions, like I'd just handed him a particularly appealing blueprint. His gaze sharpened with obvious interest, and I watched in horror as he seemed to genuinely consider the scenarios I'd meant as ridiculous hyperbole.
The way he looked at me sent a confusing mix of terror and unwelcome heat spiraling through my chest. My omega biology was apparently filing his expression under "promising developments" while my rational brain screamed warnings about giving predators ideas.
The combination left me feeling dizzy and off-balance, like my own body was betraying me from the inside.
“Actually, we can,” Stefano replied, his expression shifting to something more serious. “And we are. The only question is whether you’ll cooperate or make this more difficult than it needs to be.”
I had a moment of clarity then—the kind that comes when you realize you’re completely outmatched and your options have narrowed to varying degrees of submission rather than any meaningful resistance.
These men were bigger, stronger, and apparently had my father’s blessing to do whatever they wanted.
Fighting would only result in more humiliation, like a mouse threatening a trio of cats while already halfway down one of their throats.
So I changed tactics.
“Fine,” I said, softening my posture slightly.
“If I’m going to be kidnapped, I’d at least like pants.
I assume you have something I could wear?
Or does the hostage package only come with the complimentary oversized t-shirt?
Maybe a gift basket with travel-sized toiletries and a ‘Sorry We Kidnapped You’ card? ”
Stefano’s eyebrow arched in surprise at my sudden acquiescence. “We do. Matteo?”
The quiet alpha nodded and headed toward their camp, disappearing into the trees. He moved like a jungle cat, all quiet grace and predatory ease. If the other two were bad news, he was the classified document you needed top security clearance to even know existed.
“Smart choice,” Marco commented, studying me with obvious amusement. “Though I admit, I was looking forward to seeing how creative your resistance could get. Your threats have a certain poetic quality—like Shakespeare with anger management issues.”
“I’m saving my creativity for when you’re all asleep,” I replied sweetly. “I’ve always wondered what alphas look like with Sharpie mustaches and no eyebrows. Maybe ‘property of omega’ tattooed on your foreheads with permanent marker. I’m thinking Comic Sans font for maximum indignity.”
Marco laughed, seemingly delighted by the threat. “I’d sleep with one eye open if I were you, Stefano. This one has vengeance in his blood.”
“Among other things,” Stefano murmured, his gaze once again dropping to my bare legs. “Though I’m not convinced this sudden cooperation is genuine.”
“Would you prefer I keep fighting pointlessly?” I asked, trying to sound reasonable despite the fury simmering just beneath my skin.
“I know when I’m outmatched. Temporarily.
Like how a chess player might sacrifice a pawn to ultimately checkmate the king.
Not that you’d understand the metaphor, given your obvious intellectual limitations and your ‘grab first, ask questions never’ approach to problem-solving. ”
“Temporarily,” Stefano repeated, a slow smile spreading across his face. “We’ll see.”
That smile sent an unwelcome shiver down my spine.
It was the smile of someone who’d already mapped out all the ways this game could end and was just waiting for me to figure out I’d lost before I’d even started playing.
Chess master versus checkers novice, except the board was rigged and half my pieces were missing.
Matteo returned with a pair of sweatpants that looked like they would swallow me whole.
He handed them to Stefano rather than directly to me, a small but pointed reminder of who was in control here.
The alpha chain of command was apparently very clear—anything I needed had to come through Stefano, the self-appointed King of Kidnap Mountain.
“Thank you,” I said with exaggerated politeness, holding out my hand. “So nice to see at least one of you has basic courtesy in your skill set. Gold star for remembering pants exist.”
Instead of giving me the pants, Stefano held them just out of reach. “These aren’t free,” he said, his voice dropping to that register that made something in my stomach tighten. “You’ll need to earn them.”
The change in tactics caught me off guard.
Oh perfect, we’d moved from kidnapping to extortion in record time.
“Earn them? What, you want me to perform tricks like a circus animal? Roll over, beg, then you’ll throw me a bone?
Or should I just bark and chase my own tail while you all applaud my omega submission?
Maybe I should develop a nice routine—I could juggle pinecones while reciting the alpha superiority pledge. ”
“Nothing so complicated,” Stefano replied, stepping closer until I could feel the heat radiating from his body. “Just a simple acknowledgment.”
“Of what?” I asked warily. “Your alphaness? Your superior muscle mass? The fact that your ego needs its own zip code? Or should I just generally acknowledge that you’re compensating for something with all this dominant posturing?”
“That you belong to us tonight,” he said, his eyes never leaving mine. “That you’ll obey our rules, follow our instructions, and accept our authority until morning.”
My mouth went dry. The request went beyond simple compliance—it was a declaration of ownership, temporary but absolute.
Every instinct in my body screamed to refuse.
This wasn’t just about pants anymore; this was about establishing dominance, about making me verbally acknowledge their control.
It was Alpha Psychology 101—make the subordinate verbalize their submission, and the power dynamic becomes real.
“And if I don’t?” I asked, needing to know my options even though I suspected I wouldn’t like them. “Do I get sent to bed without dinner? Time-out in the corner? Strongly worded letter to my father? Or is this where the real alpha tactics come out to play?”
“Then you spend the night as you are,” Marco supplied, gesturing to my current state of undress. “Which would be… interesting, given the dropping temperatures after sunset. Mountain nights get cold enough to make certain parts of you retreat to unprecedented levels.”
I glanced down at my bare legs, already prickling with goosebumps despite the afternoon warmth.
The thought of spending the entire night essentially naked was both humiliating and impractical.
Plus, the way these three looked at me when I was in just the shirt made something hot and dangerous curl in my belly—a sensation I definitely didn’t want to examine too closely, filed under Biological Betrayals to Overthink Later.
“Fine,” I said through gritted teeth. “I acknowledge that I’m your captive for tonight, and I’ll follow reasonable instructions to avoid freezing my ass off. Happy? Or would you like me to curtsy too? Maybe throw in a little song and dance number about alpha superiority?”
“Not quite,” Stefano said, still holding the pants just out of reach. “Say it properly. ‘I belong to you tonight.’”
The phrasing made my skin crawl and my pulse quicken simultaneously. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you? The power trip of making me say degrading things? What’s next, having me address you as ‘Master’? Should I kiss your signet ring too? Pledge my undying fealty to House Alpha-Asshole?”
“I enjoy your submission, yes,” Stefano admitted without a hint of shame. “Especially when it comes wrapped in that defiant fire. Now say it or spend the night with those pretty legs on display.”
I closed my eyes briefly, swallowing my pride with difficulty.
It tasted like battery acid going down, burning all the way.
“I belong to you tonight,” I finally said, the words tasting like ash on my tongue.
“But tomorrow, all bets are off, and I start plotting your painful demise. Consider it a rain check on revenge.”
“Look at me when you say it,” Stefano commanded softly.