Zephyr
murder, and this time, Alpha’s hair had been found at the crime scene.
Zephyr stared in stunned surprise as she looked toward her husband in the car, getting updated about what she’d missed since she’d stopped going to his office.
They were on their way to one of Alpha’s clubs in the city, her old request to meet some of his girls something he was finally fulfilling.
She didn’t know if her withdrawal had truly affected him so much, or if he’d genuinely missed her, or if it was just the fact that she’d become a convenient companion, whatever it was, he was trying. Physically, emotionally, he was trying and that meant everything to her. He still wasn’t the most talkative, but he’d spent their last few days truly wanting to connect with her. He’d quizzed her about their pasts, told him about the aftermath of his injury and consequent recovery, let her see him the way he hadn’t before, and she appreciated that. Eating meals with her, watching shows before taking her to bed, and eating her out had become some of his favorite things. She knew he was taking time away from his busy schedule to give her, and that more than anything made her feel cherished.
Some nights, he used his fingers or her toy and brought her pleasure she couldn’t even grapple with. Some nights, it was his tongue and teeth. But he pleasured her and then held her until they slept, not trying to find his own release with her. She didn’t know if it was because she’d left after the last time he had done that, or if it was something else, but he was trying to let her in and she saw that. Still, she remained a bit wary, her heart still not entirely healed from being rebuffed over and over again.
And she missed having him inside her, but he kept himself completely away. She didn’t know why. But she loved the other parts that had come with Alpha 3.0, as she was referring to this new phase of him. Earlier, she’d talked and he’d listened, occasionally responding. Now, she talked, he engaged a bit, encouraged her to talk more. He still stayed in his grumpy mode around people, but privately, he began to ease off, letting her see another side of him he’d been holding on to before.
“First semen, now hair,” Hector said from up front where he was driving, Victor on the passenger’s side. “This has gone overboard.”
Zephyr watched her husband looking out the window, lost in thought, and she bit her lip, fear invading the happy bubble she’d made for herself in the last week. A serial killer in the city framed her husband in ways that were severely implicating—and the fact that they were clueless about him. Was it someone wanting Alpha’s power or someone from his past? And if it was someone from his past, did Alpha even remember him? Oh god. Her eyes flew to the scar on his face.
“Your scar,” she said out loud. He turned his face to the side to see her, moving his neck entirely since she sat in the periphery of his eye patch and out of his line of sight.
“What?” he asked, the left side of his face serious.
“Could this killer…” she trailed off and shut her mouth, realizing that the brothers upfront might not know about the fact that he didn’t remember anything. She swallowed. “Later.”
He considered her, before giving her a brief nod.
“We’re here,” Victor announced, and she looked out, focusing on the present.
They were in the industrial district. More precisely, they were in the same parking lot where she’d come to see him fight weeks ago in the larger arena.
Alpha got out of the car and came to her side, picking her up by the hips and putting her down, even though she wore jeans and not a dress. She realized he enjoyed doing that, helping her out and in the car with his strength, making her feel smaller and safer next to him.
“Thanks,” she gave him a smile and saw the way his eye lingered on her dimple.
Putting his large hand on the small of her waist, he led her to the warehouse where the fight had been. That night, with her nerves and emotional turmoil, she’d not noticed the building beside the warehouse. There was nothing indicating it was anything but a random building, nothing except a neon sign on the door that read ‘Club 69’.
How original.
Zephyr rolled her eyes at the sign and entered behind Hector who led from the front, Victor following them at the back, gasping as the interior came into view.
Whatever she had imagined an underworld club must have looked like, it definitely had been nothing remotely close to this. The entire warehouse had been converted into a classy nightclub straight out of some 80s mafia movie. The open area had wooden flooring, the long bar at the end was polished and stacked, comfortable seating areas lined both sides of the central dance floor. A set of stairs led to what she assumed was the glass-ensconced VIP area on both sides. The whole space was done in classy browns and reds, and she shouldn’t have been surprised. From what she’d seen of her husband’s interior design tastes, he enjoyed extravagant surroundings.
During the day, it was mostly empty, with a few women sitting at the bar talking.
Zephyr recognized Jasmine right off the bat.
The other girl turned to look at them and gave Zephyr a smile. “Well, look who it is. Mr. and Mrs. Villanova in the house!”
She wasn’t going to lie, it gave her the best thrill to hear that.
The other ladies sitting with Jasmine—two of them—turned to look at her curiously. Another girl sat off to one side, and Zephyr watched as Hector made his way to her.
“Taking a tour?” Jasmine asked, her pretty face tattooed with beautiful roses over her jaw.
Zephyr nodded. “I wanted to meet… the girls.”
Jasmine’s eyebrow hit her hairline before she shook her head. “They’re not all here. That’s Irina and Katelin. Come, I’ll introduce you.”
Zephyr followed the other woman as Alpha went to talk to another guy behind the bar, maybe the manager.
The two seated women, maybe a little older than her, studied her inquisitively.
“You’re not what we expected,” Katelin stated, looking her up and down but not in a mean way. “You’re… small.”
Zephyr laughed. “I am. I’m Zee.”
‘Nice to meet you, Zee,’ Irina said with a heavy accent. ‘I must say it is unusual for you to meet us.’
Zephyr shrugged. ‘I just wanted to learn about this place, and about AV from you ladies. Understand the business better since I’m an outsider, you know.’
If they found her weird, they were polite enough not to let it on. She spent the next few minutes talking to the women, understanding the inner workings of her husband’s empire, getting most of their stories, and realizing how glad they were to work under AV’s security.
Jasmine, she learned, had been pimped by her father since she’d been twelve for almost a decade until she tried to leave and he beat her to the brink of death. Alpha found her and sent her to SLF, and made her his eyes on the streets afterward for pay.
Irina had been a freelancer and had been raped by two men who’d taken her in a car. She had jumped out of the moving vehicle when she’d realized she needed protection but didn’t want a pimp. So she’d come to AV.
Katelin had been with The Syndicate, working as a human slave since she was eight up until a wealthy gentleman bought her. She killed the man, changed her name, and escaped to AV.
Zephyr also realized while talking to them that not all sex workers worked the same. Katelin, for example, had one man she spent her time with for the money, and then she was free to enjoy life as she pleased. Irina, on the other hand, came to the club twice a week to pick up clients. Jasmine didn’t work sexually at all.
“On fight nights,” Irina told her, sipping iced water, “it’s especially good for business. The arena is just next door. After the fight, people want to drink, to talk, spend more money. It’s a full house during that time.”
Damn.
Zephyr wondered if all people in the industry had such horrific backstories, if they were all survivors of immense trauma that they masked with the business of sex. It made her realize how lucky she had been in her life, how privileged to have been born to good parents who had taken care of her, to have a sister who loved her, and then to find a man who liked her well enough to miss her when she was gone.
The extent of what Alpha had done for them hit her then. He had given these women a choice, but more importantly, he’d given people who’d constantly looked over their shoulders safety and hope. And she couldn’t even fathom what that must feel like, of being able to sleep at night without worrying about physical safety, of knowing there was an exit if they wanted it.
She was lucky and sitting in the company of women who hadn’t been, made her want to do something for them. But she didn’t know what she could do. She had no skills except hairdressing, and to an extent, baking. What could she do for them that would give them a little joy, a little happy memory? She didn’t know.
A muscular hand slid around her waist, the height of the stool putting her on an almost similar level as her husband.
“Are you done?” he asked, his voice deep and dark.
She nodded, giving the ladies a small smile. “Thank you for talking to me.”
They gave her nods and waves as Alpha picked her up by her hips again, putting her on her feet, and led her outside.
“Satisfied?” They exited into the parking lot, a lot more crowded with people on the other side now. Zephyr watched curiously.
“What’s happening?”
“It’s a fight night,” Hector piped from the side, joining them. “They’re finishing up the semi-finals before there’s a final showdown.”
Wait, it was like a tournament? “Is it for a title or something?” Zephyr had never really watched sports on TV so she didn’t know how this worked.
Hector chuckled. “It’s for survival. Most guys who fight aren’t there willingly.”
Wait, what? She looked up at Alpha, his eye on the entry to the arena. “What does Hector mean?”
Alpha sighed. “The fighters are owned by… people. They train them and then bets are placed at each fight. Since there aren’t any rules, death is usually how it ends.”
Her stomach sank.
She watched the men outside the entrance, trying to see if she could see any of that dynamic. She recognized the guy they’d called the Ravager the other night, the one who’d snapped a boy’s neck in a few seconds. He stood to the side in boxer shorts and vest, his ice blond hair out of place in the tropical city, his eyes on something in the distance. Another fighter in shorts stood next to two men in a suit, looking subservient.
“That boy wants death,” Hector pointed to the quiet fighter. “The Ravager is one of the most brutal killing machines in the circuit. And with the way the boy is standing, he knows it too.”
The well was deep. She hadn’t known, hadn’t thought there was an entire industry flourishing on the business of death.
“So why do you still fight?” She looked to Alpha, trying to understand why he would risk himself like that every time when he wasn’t forced by someone to do it.
He shrugged a broad shoulder. “I got my reputation with street fights growing up. And occasionally I have to step in the ring to send a message.” He gave her a heavy look with one eye. “Not to fuck with me or what’s mine.”
If he was trying to distract her, it was working.
She shook off the last line and the meaning behind it, keeping track of the conversation. “That’s why you were in the ring the other nights? Or were you avoiding me and fighting?”
From the way his back tensed, she knew it was the latter.
She sighed. “At least you won’t have to go back to the death ring again.”
His pause made her heart skip a beat and not in a good way. ‘What?’
“I have to go into the ring. One more time for the tournament.”
Lead infused her veins. “What? Why?”
“Because I’ve already fought and won,” Alpha chucked her chin lightly, talking as casually about going to fight to the death as she talked about her hair. “Reneging now will send a wrong message.”
“But—”
His grip on her chin tightened. “That’s the way my world works, Zephyr. The message you send is the man you are. I might be your husband in here but out there? I am the Alpha. So, I’m going to fight in that ring, and you, my dear wife, are going to sit in the front like last time and cheer for me, and show everyone that you may be small, but you’re not weak.”
Zephyr stared up at him, her heart pounding, and looked away to find the Ravager watching them. If what Alpha said was true, he’d be fighting the killing machine soon, and she’d have to watch it all.
