The Alpha Who Pretended to Hate Me

Rapheal 

The bass thrummed through the VIP lounge like a second heartbeat, vibrating against my ribs. Crystal glasses clinked, expensive liquor flowed, and two sleek, eager bodies pressed close on either side of me on the leather couch.

One of them—dark-haired, sharp-jawed, scenting faintly of synthetic Alpha pheromones trailed a hand along my thigh. The other leaned in, lips brushing my ear with a practiced whisper.

I didn’t even look at them. My glass of aged whiskey dangled from my fingers, My eyes were unfocused, staring into the swirling lights of the club as if they held answers I’d never find.

“Why can’t you be him…” I muttered, voice low and rough, barely audible over the music. “Just for one fucking night.”

The dark-haired man chuckled, mistaking the words for invitation. “Who do you want us to be, boss? We can be anyone you need.”

My lip curled in disgust. I shoved the hand off my thigh with a force that bordered on violence. “Shut up. You’re not him. Neither of you could ever—” I took another long swallow, the burn doing nothing to dull the ache in my chest. 

The words started tumbling out, slurred and broken, a drunken stream of consciousness no one else was meant to hear. “Arlo… always Arlo. That stubborn little shit. Thinks he can glare at me like I’m the devil, if he knew… if he fucking knew how long I’ve—”

My phone vibrated against my chest, cutting through the haze. I almost ignored it, Almost. But the name flashing on the screen.

Arlo.

I sat up so fast the two men beside me startled. My thumb swiped across the screen before the second ring. “Arlo.”

The voice on the other end was small, shaky, nothing like the sharp-tongued Omega who usually spat venom at me. “Raphael… I’m sorry. I know it’s late. I just—”

I was already moving, standing straight despite the whiskey still clouding my veins. The ruthless empire heir, the man who crushed competitors without blinking, who had blood on his hands and secrets that could topple cities, melted in an instant. My free hand clenched at my side, the only outward sign of the storm inside me. “What’s wrong, baby?”

A beat of silence. I could picture Arlo’s face—those wide eyes, the flush of heat he tried so desperately to hide. The club noise faded into nothing.

“I’m all alone,” Arlo whispered. “The heat… it’s starting again. I thought I could handle it this time, but the apartment feels too big and everything hurts. Come home. Please.”

My heart twisted. Baby. I only ever let that word slip when Arlo was like this—vulnerable, needing me. He thought it was brotherly concern. A twisted sense of duty from the older sibling who had inherited everything while his world had shattered with his second differentiation. I had made sure he believed that. I’d spent years perfecting the act: the cold stares, the biting remarks, the way I pushed him away even while making sure no one else could get close.

No one touched what was mine.

“I’m coming,” I said, voice steady and low, already striding toward the exit. The two men I’d brought along called after me in confusion. I didn’t spare them a glance. “Stay right there. Lock the doors. I’ll be there soon.”

I ended the call and stepped out into the cool night air, the city lights blurring around me.

For a moment, alone in the shadows outside the club, the mask cracked completely. 

I leaned against the brick wall, shoulders shaking as quiet, ragged sobs tore from my throat. Tears burned hot down my cheeks—tears no one else in the world would ever see. Not the ruthless Alpha who ruled our family’s empire with an iron fist. Not the man who had quietly sabotaged every potential match, every “reliable Alpha” Arlo might have turned to during his heats.

Only for Arlo. Always only for Arlo.

I wiped my face with the back of my hand, drew in a deep breath, and straightened. The softness vanished behind the familiar cold exterior. By the time I reached my car, I was once again the untouchable heir who pretended to hate his brother.

But inside, the fire burned hotter than

ever.

He would wait for me. He always did.