10

"The twins are moving into the Grand Casino?"

The message on the encrypted app sat there, glowing against the dim light of the Las Vegas Penthouse Loft. I stared at it. Why was the Alpha of the Vargas Syndicate here? It made sense now. They were pushing Victor and the others out because a bigger play was in motion. But if Mateo and Alejandro didn't know the full details yet, how did the contact on the other end of this burner phone have the drop?

Someone high up was leaking. If the twins caught a scent of the mole, it was only a few steps before they found me. I’d be shredded. I typed back fast: I'll see what I can find.

Him: There’s a relic in the Vargas vault. They snatched it during a raid on the Caruso pack lands.

Me: What am I looking for? Description.

Me: A moonstone set in silver. Large. You’ll smell the ancient magic on it. Secure that, and your debt is paid.

He wanted me to heist a pack relic. A stone I couldn't even visualize. If I failed this, Dragunov would have my head.

Voices filtered through the heavy oak door—Mateo, Alejandro, and their brother, Santiago. The low rumble of Alpha talk. Probably focused on the game. If they were distracted, this was my window. I looked at the door connecting Mateo’s suite to mine. Locked. I moved to the other side, testing the handle to Alejandro’s room.

It clicked. Open.

I slipped into enemy territory. My pulse hammered against my ribs. I had no idea where an Alpha kept his prizes. These men weren't sloppy; they wouldn't leave a sacred stone on a nightstand. My mission was to dismantle the Vargas line, and handing them over to the Council would be the best way to avenge Sofia’s death. But the Council didn't have the teeth to bite the Vargas twins. If stealing this stone got me closer to ruining them, I’d take the risk.

The room was cold. Minimalist. Sharp. It fit Alejandro—the "Blade" of the family. It was larger than my room but felt like a cage. A massive bed sat in the center with a charcoal rug at the foot. I marched toward a side door. The bathroom. The shower was a glass cavern big enough for a small pack. I backed out, heart racing, and went for the bedside drawers.

The left one was stuffed with high-end condoms. A sharp, jagged spike of jealousy hit me. I’d seen the tabloids—Alejandro and his rotating door of elite models. Men and women who looked like polished marble. No wonder he treated me like a stray.

Why did I even care who he knotted? It was better to deal with one twin’s obsession than two. Especially since I was still learning how to navigate these power dynamics. I slammed the drawer. Hard.

I checked the closet. It was a forest of tailored suits and silk. Then, right at the back, I saw it. A wall-mounted rack behind reinforced glass.

Silver-tipped crossbows. Hunting knives. Two tactical handguns. A wolf’s arsenal. No moonstone.

I went back to the main room, desperate. I started tapping the walls, looking for a seam, a hollow sound. Nothing. I checked the floorboards near the bed. Nothing. I went back to the nightstand, running my fingers under the mahogany lip. I was about to give up when my nail caught on something small, round, and rubbery.

A hidden trigger.

My finger hovered over the button. My breath hitched. Just as I prepared to press it, a voice sliced through the room.

"What are you doing?"

The air left my lungs. Alejandro. He sounded confused, but the underlying threat was a physical weight. I froze. I was dead. He was going to drag me to the desert, tear my throat out, and leave me for the vultures.

I forced myself to turn. He stood in the doorway, his frame blocking the light. His face was a mask of pure disgust.

"I said, why are you in my space?" His voice was a low growl.

I scrambled for a lie. My eyes darted to the open drawer. "I was looking for protection."

"Protection?"

"Mateo said... he said I should grab some from here. He was out, so..." I trailed off. The lie was pathetic.

"What were my orders about this room?" He stalked forward. One second he was a shadow by the door, the next he was looming over me. I could smell the ozone and forest floor on him. "I told you: stay out. How many brain cells does it take to follow a command?"

"I thought since Mateo sent me..." My throat was bone-dry. Not just from the fear, but from the way his Alpha scent was flooding the room, lighting a fire in my gut.

His lip curled. "You're a terrible liar. You just love pushing boundaries, don't you?" He stepped closer, his heat radiating off him. "Pups like you need to be broken in."

He lunged. His hand clamped around my wrist like a shackle. I thought he was tossing me out, but he slammed the door shut and turned the deadbolt. He dragged me to the bed, sat down, and hauled me over his knees.

I was face-down across his lap, my ass in the air. "What are you—"

He flipped my skirt up. I wasn't wearing a damn thing underneath.

"When an Alpha gives a command, you obey," he said.

His palm came down. Slap. I let out a sharp yelp. The sting was electric.

"I did! I was—"

Slap.

"Following Mateo’s—"

Slap.

"I'm sorry!"

"No, you aren't." Slap. This time his hand didn't just hit; it lingered, his fingers grazing the heat between my thighs. He forced my legs wider and hit the other cheek.

"I said I'm sorry!"

"You don't sound sorry."

He struck me again. Harder. His fingers slid lower this time, deliberate and slow, caressing my folds as the sting faded into a throb. The humiliation was supposed to hurt, but it was fueling a desperate, shameful ache. I didn't want him to stop. His thumb found my clit, circling once before delivering another sharp blow to my skin.

I didn't yelp this time. I moaned.

"There it is," Alejandro whispered against my ear. "The truth."