Chapter 10 #2
“Don't you all have security things to do?" I snapped, heat rising to my face as Matteo continued methodically hanging my underwear like this was all perfectly normal. "Perimeters to patrol? Bad guys to intimidate? Literally anything that doesn't involve my property or my underwear?"
"This is security," Stefano replied smoothly. "Close protection detail requires… close proximity."
"How convenient for you," I muttered, unable to look at Matteo as he hung a particularly embarrassing pair with cartoon avocados saying "Let's Avo-Cuddle" on them. "And the underwear fondling? Is that a special Italian security technique?"
"Efficiency," Matteo answered before Stefano could, his voice matter-of-fact. "Helping where needed builds rapport with the protectee's family. Standard procedure."
Uncle Jiro nodded in agreement. "Very thoughtful of them. Your father chose well with these three."
The casual mention of my father sent a flash of anger through me. Of course he was behind this. The man who'd locked me away for eight years was now surrounding me with alpha handlers disguised as protection.
"I'm going inside," I announced abruptly, unable to bear another moment of watching Matteo arrange my underwear while Stefano studied me like I was a particularly interesting specimen and Marco charmed my uncle with tomato talk.
"Running away, little prince?" Stefano called after me. "I thought we were having such a pleasant conversation."
I turned back just long enough to flip him off, earning a disapproving click of the tongue from Uncle Jiro and a delighted laugh from Marco.
"So spirited," I heard Marco say as I stormed toward the house.
I slammed the door behind me, leaning against it as I tried to process the complete invasion of my life that was unfolding.
They weren't just camping nearby—they were infiltrating every aspect of my existence, charming my guardians, handling my intimate possessions, making themselves essential and welcome.
And the worst part? Some traitorous part of me was thrilled they were here.
I spent the rest of the day in my room, only venturing out for necessities, avoiding windows that might give me a glimpse of the alphas. But I couldn't stop myself from checking their positions periodically, peering through the curtains to track their movements around our property.
Stefano remained mostly near the garden, alternating between reading his book and watching the property with vigilant eyes.
Marco moved between helping Uncle Jiro and chatting with Aunt Akiko, his charm offensive clearly working as I heard my aunt's delighted laughter floating through the open windows.
Matteo finished with the laundry and proceeded to fix three different things around the property that I hadn't even realized were broken.
By evening, I felt like I was under siege. Not a violent assault, but something more insidious—a slow, methodical dismantling of my defenses. They weren't just invading my space; they were making themselves indispensable, worming their way into the good graces of the only people I trusted.
When Aunt Akiko called me down for dinner, I seriously considered barricading my door. The mouthwatering aroma of her curry drifting upstairs was almost enough to tempt me—until I heard the deep rumble of alpha voices from our dining room.
"Leo-kun! Dinner's ready!" Aunt Akiko called again, her tone making it clear this wasn't a request.
I dragged myself reluctantly from my surveillance post at the window, pausing at my dresser to pop three suppressants from the bottle Aunt Akiko had left with a not-so-subtle note: "Take these. Three alphas = three times normal dose."
She wasn't wrong. Even with distance and walls between us, their combined scents had been leaking into my space all day, making concentration impossible. One alpha was manageable. Three was a biological assault.
When I finally trudged downstairs, I froze in the doorway of our modest dining room.
It suddenly looked like a dollhouse furniture set occupied by giants.
All three alphas were seated at our table, making the sturdy oak piece seem ridiculously undersized.
Stefano and Marco sat on one side with an empty chair between them that I immediately knew was meant for me.
Matteo was opposite, next to Uncle Jiro, while Aunt Akiko bustled around, laying out serving dishes.
The space felt compressed, charged with an energy that made the hair on my arms stand up.
Their combined scents—pine and winter from Stefano, cinnamon and amber from Marco, cedar and rain from Matteo—had completely overwhelmed our usually neutral-smelling home.
It was like being dunked headfirst in alpha pheromones.
"There you are," Stefano said, those cobalt eyes finding mine immediately. "We were beginning to think you'd escaped through a window."
"Don't tempt me," I muttered, hovering in the doorway like a reluctant guest in my own home. "I'm still considering it as a viable option."
Aunt Akiko clicked her tongue disapprovingly. "Leo-kun, don't be rude. Sit down so we can eat."
"There seems to be a shortage of seating options," I observed, eyeing the empty chair between Stefano and Marco with undisguised suspicion. "How unfortunate. I'll just grab a tray and eat in my—"
"Sit," Uncle Jiro said firmly, pointing to the empty chair. "Our guests have been kind enough to join us. The least you can do is be civil."
Guests. Right. More like invasive predators who've somehow convinced my guardians they're harmless.
With the same enthusiasm I might show for a dental extraction without anesthesia, I slid into the chair between the two alphas. Immediately, the space felt even smaller, their body heat radiating from both sides, their scents enveloping me despite the suppressants.
"Cozy," Marco commented with obvious amusement, his thigh pressing against mine under the table as he shifted to "make room." The contact sent an electric jolt up my leg that I desperately tried to ignore.
"I could get you a booster seat if you're having trouble reaching the table," I offered sweetly, trying to reclaim some control through sarcasm. "We might have one in the attic from when I was five."
Stefano chuckled, the sound vibrating through his chest and somehow transmitting directly to my nervous system. "Always so hospitable, little prince."
"Did you take your medicine, Leo-kun?" Aunt Akiko asked pointedly as she set down the final serving dish. Her eyes flicked meaningfully to the alphas, then back to me.
"Yes, Aunt Akiko." I sighed, feeling my face heat under the alphas' interested gazes. "Triple dose, as instructed."
"Good boy," Stefano murmured, his voice low enough that only I could hear it. The praise sent an unwelcome shiver down my spine, my body responding to his words like I'd been conditioned to.
"Don't start," I whispered back, serving myself rice with slightly shaky hands. "I'm armed with chopsticks and I know exactly where all three of your jugulars are."
His smile widened, showing teeth. "Threatening bodily harm at the dinner table? What would your aunt say about your manners?"
"She'd understand once I explained the provocation," I replied, stabbing a piece of chicken with more force than necessary.
Dinner proceeded with excruciating slowness.
Aunt Akiko and Uncle Jiro seemed completely oblivious to my discomfort, chatting easily with the alphas about everything from gardening to Italian cuisine.
Marco charmed them with stories of his grandmother's cooking, Matteo impressed Uncle Jiro with his knowledge of traditional Japanese carpentry, and Stefano discussed international security trends like he was giving a TED talk.
The worst part wasn't even how thoroughly they'd won over my guardians.
It was how my traitorous body kept responding to their proximity despite the suppressants.
Every time Stefano reached across me for the water pitcher, his arm brushing mine sent tingles racing across my skin.
When Marco leaned close to "whisper" commentary about the food, his breath against my ear made my pulse jump embarrassingly.
"Your aunt is an excellent cook," Stefano commented, his leg shifting to press against mine under the table. The casual contact shouldn't have affected me through layers of denim, but somehow, I felt it like a brand on my skin.
"Yes, she is," I managed, trying to focus on my food rather than the overwhelming alpha presence bracketing me on both sides. "A skill that runs in the family, unlike home invasion and boundary violations, which seem to be your specialties."
"Such a sharp tongue," Marco said with obvious appreciation. "I wonder what it would take to sweeten it."
"Nothing you're capable of providing," I shot back, though the heat rising to my face undermined my bravado.
Across the table, Matteo watched this exchange with that unnerving intensity, those amber eyes tracking every micro-expression that crossed my face.
Unlike the others, he didn't feel the need to fill silence with conversation, but his quiet observation was somehow more unsettling than their active provocation.
When his foot deliberately hooked around my ankle under the table, I nearly choked on my curry. The casual possessiveness of the gesture—connecting us while the others couldn't see—sent a jolt of something that wasn't entirely outrage through my system.
"Are you alright, Leo-kun?" Aunt Akiko asked with concern.
"Fine," I wheezed, glaring daggers at Matteo, who didn't even have the decency to look guilty. "Just went down the wrong pipe."
"Perhaps you should slow down," Stefano suggested, his hand coming to rest on the back of my chair, fingers just brushing against my spine. "There's no rush."
Easy for him to say when he's not being tactically assaulted from three different directions by alpha touch.