An Alpha’s Affair

Chapter 1

CHAPTER

ONE

SILENT KILLER

LUCA

The thrill of slicing a motherfucker’s throat is almost as exhilarating as getting pussy. Almost. But the sweet feeling of pushing into a warm soft center will always win. But killing will always be a close second for me.

Some people think I’m a psycho because of the way that I see things.

Others think I’m a creep. And the real ones know that I’m both, but that’s not all I am.

I’m a certified genius whose IQ was called into question many times in my younger years.

It’s the reason I never bring it up. But my older brother, Roman, never lets me forget it.

“Please, I told you. It wasn’t me,” the man dangling from the ceiling whimpers.

“Shut the fuck up before I cut your tongue out,” I calmly reply.

I hate when these fuckers lie. I don’t make mistakes. I make sure to do all my research and gather undeniable proof before I bring anyone to my office.

“I-I have a family. My wife is pregnant,” the man continues to beg.

I sigh, going to the table and grabbing a scalpel.

The sharp tool gleams under the glowing lights of my workspace.

I can’t help the smile that breaks out on my face.

I place the scalpel over a portable torch until the blade glows an eerie orange.

My gloved, covered hands can feel the heat, so I know the tool is ready for use.

My shoes click against the tile as I make my way over to the man. His beady eyes watch my steps before his gaze shifts up to the scalpel. I see his throat bob when he swallows.

I reach up to pull the asshole’s tongue out of his mouth, but he clenches his jaw.

I shake my head, my dirty blonde hair falling into my eyes, reminding me that I need to pull it back.

This job was one of convenience, so I didn’t get to prepare like I normally would.

But that’s okay, the need to satisfy my killing urges overtook my organizational needs.

“Come on now, Matthew. I told you what would happen. Don’t fight it.”

The only time I really can express myself is when I kill. My family calls me quiet, but I’m not necessarily. I just don’t see the need to say much. Most people aren’t listening to you anyway. But when I have a victim at my mercy, I feel the need to talk the most.

Matthew continues to struggle by twisting his face away from me, but I slam my fist into his ear, and he howls out in surprised pain. I yank his tongue out and slice clean through it.

The heated weapon cauterized the wound so there isn’t much blood. I’ve been doing this for a long time, and I’ve perfected my techniques. Like I said, I have an extremely high IQ. I just choose to use my knowledge for the darker side of my lifestyle.

“I was going to make this a fairly quick kill because you didn’t personally steal anything. However, you did help your buddies. And you know as well as anyone that taking from the Dalonzo organization is an offense punishable by death.”

Groaning from Matthew intensifies as tears stream down his pale face. I shake my head at the regret swimming like fish in the rims of his dark eyes.

“But then you had to go and open your mouth about your pregnant wife. But she’s not pregnant anymore, is she, Matthew?” I throw the accusation out and my words seem to echo in the air. “What? Cat got your tongue?” I chuckle.

I walk back to my tools and run my long fingers over the different-sized knives and scalpels. I really could’ve been a doctor with my fascination for dissecting things, but I think my talents serve me well as my brother Roman’s second in command over the Dalonzo crime family.

My older brother doesn’t like to get his hands dirty unless he has to; he’s more of a businessman. I love to get my hands dirty. Actually, the more appropriate word would be filthy.

I finally choose a beauty that will certainly have Matthew’s tongue wagging, well, if he still had one. I chuckle to myself.

I’m a funny motherfucker.

“As I was saying—” I address Matthew as I slowly head back in his direction, “You pushed your pregnant wife down the stairs, and she lost the baby she was carrying. Isn’t that right? Did you think nobody knew?” I mockingly raise my eyebrow.

“And now you want to bring her up for sympathy? You fuck anything that moves. As a matter of fact, I know about your little mistress. You’re a cheater, a woman beater, and a thief. You’re garbage, Matthew. And the world will be a better place after I send your soul to hell.”

The tears are spilling down Matthew’s face, and I can see the acceptance in his eyes. He knows that there will be no way out of this. He knew there was no way out when he made the decision to steal from us. His life ended as soon as he gave those motherfuckers the location of our gun shipment.

I spent another two hours working Mr. Besser over. He deserved every stab, cut, and bruise that I gave him. Once I was done, I meticulously cleaned up my mess. I am thorough when it comes to completing a job. I don’t trust anyone to clean up the way that I do.

I hum a tune that has been stuck in my head for days. Having an eidetic memory is bullshit sometimes. I can remember everything in my life in detail, even song lyrics, but the melodies get all jumbled, and it pisses me off.

“Fuck what the hell is this song?” I continue to hum as I lock up the basement office and head to the elevator.

Only my immediate family knows about my special workspace. They know about the urges I have, and they found an outlet for them. My papa taught me how to control myself and my Mama taught me about loyalty.

My family means the world to me, and I’d do anything for them. If anyone betrays them, they betray me. If you don’t want to meet your maker before it’s time, you better not cross the Dalonzo organization.

When I reach the elevator, I scan my palm and the doors open up. I get inside, still humming that annoying ass tune. I look at my watch and see it’s just after eight. I still have time to make it to my parents’ house for dinner.

My Mama will be ecstatic when I show up, but she will also hound me about bringing a woman home and grandchildren. It’s the last thing I want to hear, but I will grin and bear it.

Maybe my brother and cousins will show up and take some of the heat off of me.

As the youngest of the crew, I have a bit more leeway than everyone else. But not by much. My Mama can be relentless when she’s fixated on something, and right now, it is getting us married off one by one.

The elevator stops and the doors slowly open. I step out into the secret back hallway that leads to a hidden door inside of my cousin Niro’s office. Niro is our head of security; nothing gets past him. The man knows everything about everyone.

I scan my palm once more, and the door swooshes open quietly. When I enter, the sounds of a woman moaning hit my ears. I roll my eyes because I already know it’s about to be some fuckery going on.

“Yeeeess. Oh Niro. You fuck me so good.”

“ Prendi questo cazzo ,” Niro’s raspy voice growls in Italian at the woman.

I know he knows I’m here because my cousin doesn’t miss anything, so him telling a woman to take his dick while I’m behind him is wild. My cousin just doesn’t give a fuck that his naked ass is out, and he’s pounding away into some bimbo.

I keep walking to exit the outer office when Niro calls out. I turn with a raised brow.

“ Cugino, vediamoci stasera al Obsession ,” Niro says, still pumping away.

I quirk an eyebrow at my cousin. Meeting him at my brother’s club later tonight was not what I had on the calendar. I don’t even like crowds like that.

However, the last thing I want to do is have a conversation with my cousin while he’s fucking.

We’re close and all, but that’s taking it to another level.

Besides, I have no desire to talk in front of some strange woman that I’ll never see again.

Hell, Niro probably won’t see her again either.

So, a nod of acknowledgment is all I give as I head to the parking garage.

The men of the Dalonzo organization are spread throughout the building including the parking garage when I make it downstairs. You can never be too careful especially when you have as many enemies as we do. Although anyone running into me in the dark should be very afraid.

I’m the thing that goes bump in the night. I’m scarier than anything that anyone could ever imagine. I’m not afraid or need security, but it makes my family feel better. Even though they know better than anybody that I’m the biggest threat, they also know that I’d do anything to please them.

“Mr. Dalonzo,” one of the men greets me.

I don’t acknowledge him. I keep walking to my car. I never acknowledge them when they talk to me. I’m not sure why they keep greeting me or trying to talk to me. It makes me anxious when people talk to me for no reason.

It makes me think they want something from me, then my overactive brain has to figure out what they want and why they want it.

Then I have to compartmentalize if what they want is dangerous or will it lead to something dangerous.

Once I figure that out, I have to decide whether or not that person is a threat.

I kill threats.

So, in order to keep from killing most of the organization’s men, I don’t speak to them.

It may be rude, but I think living is a choice they would make over me saying hi. They still speak to me when they know who I am and what I do. I kill for a living, and I like it. I won’t apologize for it because it keeps my family safe.

I continue to my car, pulsing excitement making its way through me from my kill. But it still wasn’t enough to fulfill my urges. I need something else.

I feel something in the air, but I can’t put my finger on what it is. I’m not the most spiritual, but my intuition is something I take seriously. Yes, I am a thinker, and I have an intelligence that most people can’t fathom, but spirituality cannot be denied, especially by a smart man.

“Every breath you take, that’s the song. Fitting.” I keep humming as I get into my SUV and drive away.

I use my key to get into my parents’ house, and I’m greeted by the sounds of laughing.

I frown because I hear feminine laughter, and I know it isn’t coming from my Mama.

I hope that she isn’t trying to set me up or, as she calls it, “getting me out of my shell.” I know she means well, but my Mama should know me better by now.

Nobody will ever accept me, love just isn’t in the cards for me. And I’m okay with that.

“Ahhh, my beautiful bambino,” my Mama croons in her heavily accented English.

I lean down to kiss her cheek, and she smiles up at me sweetly. Her blue eyes twinkle with mischief, and I instantly know she’s up to something.

“You know Alicianna Amano, she stopped by to say hello after visiting her Nona. Such a sweet girl.” My Mama smiles in the direction of the woman.

I nod but don’t comment. Alicianna and I know each other well, and sweet is not the word I would use to describe her. She’s more of a cutthroat, shark kinda girl. Ambitious to a fault, and conniving as hell.

Her parents raised her to be a mob wife, but Alicianna definitely wants to be the Donna. She has no intention of sitting idly by while her husband runs her family. That’s probably why she isn’t married. If she finally settled down, then her father could retire.

The Amano family is a prominent Italian family that is based in Louisiana. Their organization is smaller and less powerful than ours. However, they don’t have territory in Texas, so we are friendly. I wouldn’t call us allies, but we’re not enemies either.

“Hi, Luca. It’s good to see you.” Alicianna seductively smiles.

I’m not sure what she thinks she’s doing, but I don’t like it. The last time I saw her, she was doing her best impression of a hoover on my cousin’s dick. Paolo isn’t the most discreet motherfucker, but even he didn’t claim Alicianna.

“Hmmm,” I respond with a nod.

“Luciano! I’m surprised to see you figlio,” my papa sings, coming into the kitchen.

“Papa,” I reply.

My papa engulfs me in a hug like he always does, and it almost brings a smile to my face.

It’s not that I don’t love my papa, I’ve just never been one for affection.

My entire family knows this, but it doesn’t stop my papa from showing me love.

It doesn’t bother me as much as it used to.

However, I still struggle with a lot of physical contact.

People would assume something traumatic happened in my childhood, but nothing happened. There wasn’t a time in my childhood that I was exposed to any trauma. It’s just the way my brain is wired. My parents have always tried their best to understand my needs and my wishes for solitude.

They get me as much as they can, and that’s why I don’t hold it against them when they insist on physical affection, knowing I hate it. I don’t know why I hate the touch of another person, it’s just the way that I am.

I can honestly say that I don’t like people in general, so touching someone else isn’t high on my list. However, there are exceptions to everything. I love to slice a motherfucker up, someone deserving, of course. And although I don’t particularly like women touching me, I love to touch them.

I guess it’s like they say, there’s exceptions to every rule.

“Where’s Ro? He’s usually here by now.” I look around for my brother.

He’s the older, dutiful son who always does the right thing. You would think we had some type of sibling rivalry, but we don’t. I love and trust my brother. He understands me better than most, even though he takes his older sibling role too far at times.

“I saw him at lunch today, so I know he’s coming. He should be here…”

Before my papa can finish his sentence, we hear the front door open and shut. Ro comes sauntering in with a bright smile.

“Mi familia!” His voice booms through the large kitchen. “It smells delici— what the fuck are you doing here?”

“Roman Dalonzo!” Mama shouts, putting her hands on her hips.

The stern look she gives my brother doesn’t wipe the deep scowl from his face.

I’m glad to know I’m not the only one suspicious of Alicianna’s presence.

To be fair, I’m suspicious of most people, but for some reason, her being here feels dangerous.

And I don’t like danger; it makes my silent killer stand up and take notes.