My Mafia Master: the Alpha's Dark Desires
- Genre: Werewolf
- Age: 18+
- Status: Completed
- Language: English
- Author: Kristi Christensen
- Uploaded by user312277
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Chapter 1
Eliana POV
I didn’t go looking for trouble - in truth, it found me well enough without my help. I was just doing my thing, trying to make ends meet, and then BAM! Trouble.
I walked away from table number three, surreptitiously rubbing my backside as I tried to rub away the sting from Wilson's slap to my arse. I hated that he always sat at the tables assigned to me, his eyes creepily staring at my chest whenever he gave his order like he was able to see through my clothes. He was a decent tipper, but I would totally skip out on the tip if it meant I could go home not feeling violated.
Slipping behind the counter, I refilled the coffee machine and switched it on, reaching for my phone as I waited for the coffee pot to refill.
“Eliana! What did I say about no phones during work hours?" my boss barked at me, his red rimmed eyes and creased clothes showing he had probably spent last night with a bottle of vodka.
I rolled my eyes internally, but didn’t dare let my irritation with him show on my face. I needed this job, even though it was absolutely shitty. My phone had been in my hands for probably less than a minute while I checked to see if an email about the scholarship I had applied for had come in. It’s not as if the coffee machine needed constant supervision.
"Sorry, boss.” I tried to inject my voice with enough innocence and vulnerability to make him forgive the incident. "I was just checking the email about my scholarship application.”
“Do that on your own time, I pay you to work! I'm docking your salary,” my boss’ eyes bore into me as if he was looking for any sign of unhappiness from me at his words. I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction.
“Elie, could you cover table ten? Five guys just arrived and they seem impatient to order,” Sarah interrupted on purpose, winking at me as she walked past. “I know it’s on my side of the restaurant, but…” she nodded her head toward the tray she carried which was piled with dirty dishes, before she sauntered off without a backward glance.
It was clear that she was rescuing me, and I could have kissed her!
"Right away," I grabbed the menus from the bar and put on a smile, grateful to be free of my arsehole boss for a moment.
"Disrespect. That's what I get for hiring a packless werewolf, and an omega one at that," I heard my boss mutter as he headed back to his office, and his bottle of vodka.
My wolf, Ayla, growled in my head at the insult and I could feel her trying to push her way forward.
"He's not worth it, Ayla," I tried to placate her, only to have her grumpily sit down and sulk that I didn't let her rip the man's throat out.
Personally, I'd rather be a packless werewolf than a drunkard human any day! It's not as if my family and I were rogues, anyway. We were just lonewolves, preferring to integrate ourselves with the humans than enter the politics of our own kind.
My mom had had enough challenges being pregnant at eighteen without a mate - well, as far as the pack were concerned. Overnight she became an outsider to the other members, the omega girl who was nothing more than a slut in their eyes. Things didn't change when we were born either - in fact, they got worse.
The alpha had an agenda when it came to Elijah and myself, always trying to get my mom to leave us in his care. She did once, only to walk in on us crying while the pack doctor took our blood. The alpha had said it was a routine checkup, but my mom didn't believe it, running away with us in the middle of the night. Our link with the pack weakened over time until it was so feint that it disappeared entirely all by itself.
Rogues were a whole other story though. They're generally wolves who have been kicked out of their packs, banished for some crime or another. Their link to their packs are severed forcibly - a painful and traumatic experience which usually left the wolf insane, lacking conscience or empathy. They are forced to roam the wilderness, skulking in the shadows and surviving by preying on the unsuspecting.
No, we were not rogues.
Shaking my head at my pathetic boss, I headed toward the table Sarah had left the customers.
I have to admit that my steps faltered as I got a look at the five guys at table ten. They looked like they'd stepped out of a scene from 'The Godfather.' I mean, who wears suits to a rundown restaurant on the wrong side of town on a weekday? Especially since the food was a step away from food poisoning on a platter, with the specialty being greasy, green-tinged sausages and soggy, over-cooked pasta.
I straightened my bright orange miniskirt and white t-shirt (clearly my boss took his fashion inspiration from construction sites), before I swallowed hard and approached the table. My stomach felt as if it had thousands of butterflies inside it, and they just wouldn’t quieten down. It definitely didn't help that Ayla had perked up and was now zooming around my head, making it hard to focus.
"What can I get for you?" I asked after I passed out the menus, trying to keep my voice light and friendly.
“Hmmm… I think I’ll try the steak,” came a voice that sounded smooth and velvety, tinged with a slight accent which made the butterflies worse.
"Mate!" Ayla shouted excitedly, her tail wagging like a puppy dog. "That's our mate, Elle!"
I met his green-eyed gaze and immediately felt a lump form in my throat, a mix of panic and pleasure rising inside of me as I realised that Ayla was right.
I knew I'd have my mate cross my path at some point, I had just hoped that it wouldn't happen yet. With our mates becoming apparent to us from the age of sixteen, being twenty-one and still unmated basically made you a spinster. And while all the other werewolf females in the world were fantasising about their future mates from the moment they stepped into puberty, I wasn't one of them.
Unlike Ayla, I didn’t want a mate, least of all now. Not when I was finally getting close enough to achieving my dreams that I was almost able to smell success. Not when I was a year away from graduating top of my class in software engineering.
Like my wolf, my body had other ideas. Just one look at him was enough for my body to start to react to him; his dark brown hair a tousled mess and his face sporting a five-o'clock shadow, while his muscles strained against the conformity of the crisp, black suit he wore. The wolf inside my head wanted me to grab him and make sweet, passionate love to him right there on the linoleum covered table. But I wasn’t going to do that. My nerdy human side didn’t have the guts to even acknowledge verbally that he was my mate.
“Come on, girl! Introduce yourself, claim him as your mate!” Ayla barked at me excitedly, acting like a puppy.
She had always been pushy, even when I had first met her on my sixteenth birthday. She was the complete opposite of me - where I was reserved, she was in-your-face and overconfident. Which was probably why the fates paired her with me, the extinguisher to her firecracker personality.
“No, I’m not going to embarrass myself like that. If he shows any sign that he feels the mate pull.”
I wasn’t going to launch myself at him, especially when it was clear that he wasn’t as affected as I was. In fact, he barely acknowledged my presence. Maybe he didn't realise I was his destined mate, the implications of which were earth shattering.
My heart beat fast as I jotted down their order and spun around, accidentally bumping into Sarah as she approached with a pot of coffee. She managed to hold onto the pot but coffee sloshed out of it and onto the table in front of the five men, splashing the one who was my mate slightly.
“I’m so sorry!” I exclaimed, fishing out the dish towel from where it was tucked into my apron, and rushing to mop up the river of coffee.
As I bent over the table to reach the further end of the flood of coffee, I felt a playful tap on my backside - an all too familiar playful tap.
“What's your problem, Wilson?” I angrily spun around and I knew that Ayla was shining through my eyes, Wilson had smacked my arse far too many times that evening already and we were both fed up with it.
Wilson stood there with a smug grin on his pockmarked face, his filthy blonde hair slicked back with grease and the stench of sweat wafted from his unwashed body. I had to swallow the bile that rose in my throat - my werewolf sense of smell was a curse sometimes.
“What’s your problem, Eliana? You should feel honoured that I chose to give my attention to you. You know you were asking for it anyway,” his lip contorted into a sneer before he continued. “In your tight miniskirt, you’re just begging for my attention like a slut.”
I felt Ayla push forward again, wanting to paint the restaurant with his blood. As if summoned, my boss appeared out of nowhere, visibly flustered at the thought of losing a frequent customer to my angry outburst. It was no secret that Wilson did some sketchy deals in the darker corner of the restaurant, and that my boss got a kickback from them.
“Eliana, you will apologise to Mr. Wilson immediately,” my boss thundered, spittle flying from his mouth.
“No.”
The smooth voice cut through the tension in the room like a knife, drawing everyone’s attention to the guy I suspected was my mate as he stood, large and imposing.
“But…” my boss started again.
“I said no,” the guy returned, a slight growl evident in his voice. “She does not need to apologise to this man. He sexually harassed and insulted her. You should be forcing an apology out of him instead.”
My boss was terrified, nodding his head as he avoided everyone’s gaze.
“You’ve made a mistake messing with her,” the guy’s voice took on a dark edge and I could see his eyes turn dark, but Wilson snorted and walked away, extending his middle finger toward the guy as he retreated.
The five guys grumbled between them something about disrespect, bringing up ‘The Godfather’ flashbacks in my mind.
“A little something for the inconvenience,” the guy said as he threw a couple of hundreds on the table, he and his friends leaving the restaurant without even eating anything.
I felt Sarah come to stand beside me as we both stared in shock at the five men’s retreating forms.
“What on earth just happened?” she asked in a whisper.
“I wish I could tell you…”
Later that evening, before I finished my shift, I went to take out the trash and found Wilson propped up against the alley wall beside the garbage bins. His face was covered in blood, his one eye swollen shut and the sneer he threw my way was marred by his split lip.
His eyes were filled with hatred.
“You’ll pay for this,” he breathed as he clawed at the brick wall behind him, struggling to his feet. “Even if it’s the last thing I do in this life, I will make you pay.”
I ran as fast as my legs could carry me, seeking solace in the dingy restaurant - but his haunting words still followed me there, repeating themselves over and over again in my head.
“I will make you pay.”