Chapter 2: Settle in Girl

Antonio's grip flies off of me in an instant, and both of our eyes cower to the ground in submission. God, how I haven't missed living with wolves. Despite the alpha aura floating around us, I am thankful to have his squeezing hand off my arm. 

"Antonio, what is going on. Don't make me ask you again." His voice is low and threatening. I try not to look up, but curiosity gets the better of me, and I take a glance. 

His short black hair is slicked back, his black suit is tightly fit to his chest, and his chiseled jaw is highlighted by a trace of beard-scuff. His eyes are dark brown and piercing, and as soon as they meet mine, I drop my gaze back to my feet. I can't help the increase of my heart rate that all three of us can hear, and I feel my face heat with embarrassment. Why did he have to look so sexy? This would be much easier if he looked like a homeless man.  

"T-this is my daughter, Alpha Ben. The one I spoke to you about?" Antonio sounds nervous, as he should be in the presence of the Alpha of the North. 

"Little Daliah?" Ben's voice ceases in his alpha tone, and I let myself lock eyes with him for the first time. His brows are raised at the ends, and his eyes are slightly wider as he takes me in. For a moment, I can see a faint smile playing on his lips, but it only lasts a second before he clears his throat and expression.

In the very back of my mind, I can recall the last time we had been together. The nights that I had spent in his bed, tied to his bedframe, wrapped in his sheets.   

"Very well," he says with a quick snap of his fingers, signaling a nearby omega to his side. 

"Take her things to the West wing," he says harshly to the lady. She is wearing a worn, brown dress with a dirtied white apron over it. 

"The West Wing? We discussed her stay in the East wing." Antonio says with confusion, but his words earn a quick scowl from the Alpha of the North. 

"Are you questioning me, Antonio?" His words are like knives slicing through the thick air. 

"No! No, no Alpha, I would never!" He pleads desperately to calm him down, but it is clear that Ben doesn't like my father. I am not sure of one wolf that does like him. If they act like they do, they are merely afraid of him.  

"You mean, never *again*?" Alpha Ben asks with a brow cocked. My father lowers his eyes to the floor with shame. 

"Yes, the west wing, where the omegas stay. No blood of Antonio Luciano will be wandering my halls freely, and they definitely won't be interacting with my pack!" He all but shouts as the maid scurries away with my bag. 

"Yes, Alpha, I understand," Antonio says quickly, but Ben doesn't respond, so he keeps rambling. 

"She'll be on her best behavior, you won't have any issues. You have my word." Antonio's alpha voice shines in his final sentence, and I watch as Alpha Ben's eyes narrow at him. As if he were deciding to let him live or die with the use of it. 

"She'd better be. And stay out of sight, I don't want to see you." He turns to face me with his lip curled in disgust before speed walking past us both and leaving the corridor. 

"He's a lot...rougher than I remember," I say quietly to my father, who is stunned into silence. 

"A lot has changed since you've been away." He replies shortly, as though he were suddenly irritated that I was here.  

With a quick and forceful hug, Antonio leaves me alone to find my way to the west wing. It's not too difficult, as the smell of omegas is stronger in one area than the rest. Soon, I am able to find the woman who had hauled my bag away. 

"Thank you," I tell her as I retrieve it from the floor where she stands. 

"Don't speak to me, mutt." The woman says harshly before turning and leaving. 

As the daughter of an Alpha, typically, no one would dare to speak to me that way. Especially an omega. However, my father has a way of royally fucking things up.

I let out a deep sigh and push through the heavy wooden door. The mansion is huge and impressive, but my assigned room is. Well, it's the opposite. A single twin bed shoved between two nightstands that don't have drawers, opposite to a standing dresser. The door next to it leads to a bathroom with the toilet and the shower right next to each other, and a tiny sink and mirror combination. 

Inwardly, I groan, but I take a relaxing breath when I drop my bag on the nightstand and flop myself onto the bed. The time difference between California and New York is taking a toll on me, and I nearly drift to sleep on the lumpy mattress. 

My phone buzzing in my pocket pulls me back from my resting eyes. Taking it out, I can see a text from a friend in California, Carter. One of many, actually. 

"Hey, want to hang out?" 

"Why aren't you answering?" 

"Okay, it's been days. What's going on?" 

I silence my phone and throw it to the edge of the bed. Ghosting everyone is the best thing for me right now. Getting out of the mundane mindset and back into the wolf world is what I need to focus on. If I don't, I will get myself killed.  

Pulling out my laptop, I check my emails and search through a few available building complexes in New York for rent. All of which I could afford with family funds, none of which I am willing to do so with. 

Sighing in frustration at my lack of success in finding a place for my practice, I close my laptop and decide to get some food from the kitchen. I can smell the omegas cooking dinner, making my stomach rumble with each passing moment. 

Luckily, the west wing is where the kitchen is, only because that is where the pack servants are. 

When my feet cross the border into the kitchen, the ten or so maids pause in every action. They seem to even be holding their breath while staring at me like I kicked their puppy. 

I throw my hands up in a mock surrender. 

"Just here to make a sandwich, then I'll leave," I tell them, but before I can take another step, a loaf of bread is chucked at my face. I catch it with ease, but it's the principle that bothers me. My teeth clench tightly, but I don't say anything. Instead, I take my cold loaf of bread and head back to my room.

Just as I reach the door to the kitchen to leave, a male omega sticks his foot in front of me with one hand on my back. He shoves my face hard into the unopened door, and I immediately feel the warmth of blood coming from my nose. The rest of the omegas laugh as he spits at my feet. 

"Mutt," is all he says while I grip my nose to keep the blood from dripping anymore. I throw the door open quickly to escape their baradment. 

While on my way through the stone hallways that seem as though they are written from a fairytale, I pass a room with the television blaring in sound. 

"Benjamin Lanzetta under investigation by NYPD regarding the disappearance of two NYU students." I pause in my tracks. Investigation? Why are they publicizing the investigation if he hasn't been detained? 

Oh yes. I nearly forgot. He's the mafia boss of New York.