Chapter 2
CHAPTER TWO
House Billion, Las Vegas
Istep out of House Billion’s private elevator into the top executive level of the casino. It is silent, and the lighting is low. The walls are painted a flashy gold.
On high alert, I scan the narrow corridor, which is as gaudy as everything that is owned by the Billionaire pack.
I can feel Mars at my shoulder.
I want to say something to my brother, but I can spot the cameras recording us from every corner.
I can’t risk it.
The Billionaires must believe that I am merely his bodyguard.
Rogue, the poor adopted Alpha.
Nothing more.
Mars is strolling along the corridor like this is a simple romantic meet-cute, however, and not a dangerous mafia alliance. He is humming and staring dreamily into space.
He ran his hand through his hair in the elevator, and I am desperate to reach out and smooth it back into place.
He chattered excitedly to me for hours on the journey about finally meeting his soulmate.
Please, please don’t let this Billionaire Omega break my sweet brother’s heart.
Don’t reject him.
It was a relief when Mars fell asleep on the plane, and despite how exhausted I was, I could reach into my pocket and pull out the burner phone that Fiorella had thrust at me.
The one that held my second mission — my contract on the Hunters.
I began to dig into the files on the Hunters, the infamous outlaw pack who seemed to have appeared out of nowhere two years ago in a spray of bullets and blood.
My type of guys.
As my brother snored, I shifted in my plane seat, excited for the first time in years about a mission.
The Hunters had outsmarted all their prey. They terrified people who were other people’s monsters.
And I was going to make them my prey.
My pulse pounded.
Narrowing my eyes, I tapped the screen.
A bonded Alpha and Beta pack of killers.
Actually, more like vigilantes.
The Hunters targeted the bad guys: mafia, murderers, and Omega abusers.
What type of pack was unhinged enough to go after the deadliest packs in America?
Apparently, a giant, masked Alpha and his sweet-scented beautiful Beta.
My guess? The Hunters were ex-military by the way that they went about their kills.
This was going to be interesting.
I force myself to clear my mind of my new obsession and turn it back onto this meeting with the enemy pack. One wrong move today, and my brother and I will end up with our throats torn out.
I stalk down the corridor toward the two Betas in impeccable purple suits who are guarding the meeting room doors.
The Betas are standing casually without visible weapons. Their expressions are neutral.
Yet it’s an illusion.
They belong to the Billionaire mob. I know them.
Plus, the way that they’re positioned, as well as how their gazes flick to me — rather than to my brother, the mafia heir — and then away, means that they’re assessing my threat, as much as I’m assessing theirs.
Smart assholes.
I scan the meeting room door itself.
It’s heavy, sound-sealed, and opens inwards.
Shit.
Dad has doors like that on the rooms where he holds meetings he expects to be a sit-down with fangs.
Doors like this are to keep both sound and you in.
I slip instantly into high alert.
I scan the ceiling.
Micro-cameras are embedded in the lights, and I know that they will be inside the room as well. Air vents are built in above the door. They can control scents if they choose to.
Also, pheromones.
I swallow.
This is bad.
Instinctively, I adjust my position, taking the outside line. I place my brother half a step behind me.
I keep my pace steady, however, no matter that my heart rate has picked up. My pheromones become stronger, however, and the Betas’ noses wrinkle.
I deliberately keep my hands visible, however, with my fingers loose.
I am the Alpha here. But I am not provoking the Betas. I am in their territory.
Unaware, my brother calls out a cheery, “Hey, guys. Open the door for us, yeah?”
The closest Beta’s lip pulls back in a sneer. He exchanges a glance with his colleague and doesn’t move.
Mars’ smile fades.
“I said,” Mars’ voice drops into the low rumble that all Adonis Alphas are taught and makes most Betas fall to their knees in submission, “open the fucking door.”
The Beta pales and scrambles to shove the door open.
Mars adjusts his cuff links, before nodding his curt thanks.
I drop a step behind my brother, allowing him to stride eagerly into the meeting room first.
I prowl after him, assessing the room in a controlled sweep first for exits (there are none, only the door that is thunking shut behind us with a finality that makes me wince), and threats (far too many).
Ten Alpha enforcers in the same purple suits are standing around the walls of the large meeting room. Their gazes snap to me.
Why the fuck are there so many of them? And why Alphas?
I struggle to keep in my growl.
Is this a courting or an ambush?
Floor-to-ceiling windows run along three of the walls, which are angled to overlook the casino floor below. I bet that Damio jerks off to watching the mugs below losing their fortunes to him.
It’s a spectacle.
The lights pulse over the bars and tables of gamblers. The dealers in their crisp purple and gold uniforms work smoothly. They are cogs in a machine. This flagship Billion House casino is only a business, one of the Nine Zeros brand, in the same way that Fiorella’s property portfolio is.
Both packs may not like to admit it, but they have a lot in common.
They have respectable fronts to hide their shady business.
I take a deep breath of the perfumed air, which still can’t hide the strong scent of vodka wafting from Damio.
Damio, the Chief Alpha, is sitting at the head of the obsidian table that dominates the center of the room. He leans forward with his heavy arms leaning on the gleaming surface, which is empty apart from a single stack of papers.
Damio is in his sixties.
He is the type of man who calls himself a silver fox, when in fact, he’s a creepy man who likes to prey on younger women.
He is dressed in a flashy plum silk suit.
Damio is known to kiss someone one moment and rip out their throat the next.
Literally.
Is Fiorella taking too great a risk wanting to ally with someone like him?
Damio’s gaze flicks over me, before dismissing me. Then he studies my brother with a contempt that surges fury through me.
I glance at the only other person who is sitting at the table. Rosa, Damio’s elite Omega daughter, leans back in the leather chair to the left of Damio.
Rosa is pretty with long, wild red hair. She appears to be the same age as my brother.
She is dressed in a silver designer dress and shoes with large hoop earrings. She is scrolling through her phone and hasn’t even glanced up.
My stomach sinks.
Mars valiantly approaches the table, and I stick close to his shoulder.
“Good afternoon, sir.” Mars holds out his hand to Damio. “I am pleased to meet you, as well as greet you on behalf of the Adonis pack. I am honored to court your Omega daughter. I swear that I will treat her with respect and—”
“Fucking drop the act, boy.” Damio bats Mars’ hand away, and I can’t hold back the growl.
“We all know why we’re here. I don’t need some kid bullshitting me with this old-fashioned chivalry crap.
Do you know what knights were truly like?
They were brutal killers who rampaged and ravished, taking what they wanted because they were the ones with the weapons.
” He bares his fangs. “We’re Alphas. Fucking mafia.
We’re the modern-day knights, but chivalry isn’t dead.
It never lived to begin with. So, no bullshitting. Got me, kid?”
Mars stares at Damio in shock.
Then his jaw clenches. “I’m not a kid.”
Damio barks a laugh. “Then why are you the same size as one?”
I suck in a sharp breath.
Don’t say anything. Don’t say anything. Don’t say anything…
Rosa is texting someone on her phone now. She is still ignoring her future Alpha.
Such fucking disrespect.
I grit my teeth.
Mars flushes.
His gaze slides to Rosa, before his expression softens.
Then he looks back at Damio, straightening his shoulders. “I’ve always thought that it’s not the size that counts, but what you do with it.”
I snort a surprised laugh.
Damio rubs his beard. “You have balls. I like you.”
My shoulders slump with relief.
First test passed.
My brother’s blood isn’t spilled all over the meeting room table. I take that as a win.
For the first time, Rosa glances up.
She drops her phone onto the table with a clatter.
She looks Mars up and down. “This is the Alpha?”
“My name is Mars.” My brother gentles his voice as he steps toward Rosa.
“I’ve been looking forward to meeting you.
I hope that this week we’ll have time to truly get to know each other.
Would you go out to dinner with me? You can tell me what you like to do for fun, and I’ll arrange that as a date, okay? ”
Rosa scrunches up her nose. “I don’t like his scent. What Alpha smells of chocolate milkshake? Yuck.”
Several of the enforcers chuckle.
Mars’ expression crumples.
Not only aren’t they scent matches like he dreamed. His Omega has just publicly shamed his scent.
It’s the worst thing that she could do.
The most hurtful.
I clench my fists.
Why couldn’t I be Gianna? Acknowledged as Mars’ sister?
Then I could wipe that sneer off Rosa’s spoiled face, rather than have to stand here, still and silent.
I am the bodyguard for my brother’s physical body, but I can’t protect his mind or heart.
Mars appears shaken, unsure what to reply. He fiddles with his tie like he desperately needs something to do with his hands.
“I’m not…I mean, I’m sorry that you don’t…” He attempts to take Rosa’s hand, but she drags hers away from him.
Mars’ blue eyes steel, before he drops to his knee in front of her.
Fuck, no.
I want to grab my brother’s shoulders and yank the romantic fool back to his feet.
I want to shake him and make him see that Rosa isn’t the type of Omega who will fall in love with an Alpha because he…
Pulls a single red rose out of his pocket and a poem.
Oh, shit.
Mars is truly going to do this.