The Alpha’s Secret Omega: Love Me Like A Sin (MXM)

People say lust fades, but his didn’t; it dragged him right back into the alpha’s bed like he could never escape, because pride disappears fast when the alpha’s tongue is that good.

For Ilya, it all began with one mistake, which led to another...so, let’s rewind to the start.

Ilya stares unblinkingly and with a cold gaze as he stands among the other alpha guards, their black suits fitting too well, drawing attention to their muscles and shape rather than hiding them.

Ilya has spent years inside the Crimson Circle Syndicate, long enough for everything to feel familiar but never safe because when has hell ever felt safe?

He keeps his face blank as usual, cold amber eyes staring into nothing as the room smells of smoke, and the mix of Alpha pheromones that always makes his stomach tighten if he doesn’t control his breathing.

“We move tonight,” Don Maverick starts as he presses the bud of his burning cigar in the ashtray on the table at his side. His piercing black eyes flicker to the line of guards in front of him, and his lips curl into a devious smirk. “Hotel Solaris. I want it to be quick and quiet.”

Ilya listens carefully, like he always does. He has to, because every detail matters when you’re pretending to be something you are not.

“I want this job done clean. Understood?”

“Yes, Don,” everyone answers at once.

“Father, I want to see to it that this mission goes successfully.”

Don Maverick snaps his head over to his oldest son, Alessio, and almost instantly, his eyes dim, like those words should have never come out of his mouth. The don immediately shakes his head and looks around the room instead. “Where is Valen?”

“I can take the lead on this, Father.” Alessio starts again, offering a smile to reassure his father. “Valen is busy with—” he continues, taking a step forward, only to be cut off abruptly.

“I said Valen.”

Alessio’s smile drops a little but his green eyes stare hard. He tries again, his hands balling into fists at his side. “I just thought—”

“You don’t think,” the don cuts him off once more, “You act when I tell you to act. Valen oversees the mission. Sit down and you—”

Ilya tries hard not to flinch when the Don suddenly points his silver walking cane directly at him. He firmly takes a step forward out of the formation.

"Get Valen. Now.”

Ilya stops himself from poking his inner cheek in annoyance at the assignment, but he doesn’t dare voice his displeasure as he nods instead and leaves, heading to fetch the Don’s youngest son, heir to the Crimson syndicate, and the one Ilya hates the most.

Ilya walks out of the briefing room, walking down the long hallway, with the sound of his boots low against the floor, and the deeper he goes, the stronger the scent of expensive cologne mixed with strong alpha pheromones and smoke becomes. 

Valen always smells like that, like someone who doesn’t care what he wastes because he knows everything is at the palm of his hand. He's that cocky.

Ilya keeps his expression flat as he turns the corner leading to the private lounge meant only for the heir, who gets praised for doing nothing other than throwing parties that always end in orgies. 

Ilya hates his mind for being unable to forget ever walking into one of those so-called parties. Ever since then, Ilya decided that he hates him.

He hates Valen D’Avorin.

He arrives at the door and the blast of music becomes louder. With an annoyed smirk, he pushes the door and enters and fortunately, he doesn't get welcomed with dicks and pussies in the open but his gaze instantly lands on Valen, lying on the sofa, dressed in only but a pair of pants and a red robe that flaunts his naked chest. 

He's surrounded, by both men and women half naked, dancing and grounding on him and by their scents, they are all omegas with the smell of their arousal so thick in the air, Ilya can almost taste it on his tongue. 

Ilya tries not to grimace at the disgusting sight. He clears his throat, hoping to get their attention but it's like talking to air.

“Mr. D’Avorin,” he calls but again, gets no response. Ilya glares at him. In annoyance, he walks over and grabs the remote and turns off the music.

The sound cuts off and a few groans fill the room, followed by annoyed voices.

“Hey—”

“What the hell?”

Valen finally lifts his head, brows coming together in confusion as he looks around while one of the Omegas draped over him laughs softly, fingers still tracing lazy circles over his chest.

“Who killed the vibe?” Valen asks, annoyed, but then his gaze lands on Ilya and it lingers before his lips curl into a cunning smirk.

“Well, I’ll be damned. If it isn’t one of my father’s favorite soldiers.”

Ilya keeps his posture straight and his gaze blank. “The Don wants you. Now.”

A soft laugh escapes Valen as he leans back into the couch, stretching his arms on the backrest like he owns the room, his red robe falls open even more, showing the tattoos carved across his chest and stomach.

“Does he?” Valen asks, his green eyes glinting mischievous. He pushes himself off the couch and advances on Ilya with the most elegant steps. “As you can see, I'm having fun. Go tell him that, Soldier,”

“I can't, Mr. D’Avorin,” comes Ilya's response.

Valen chuckles. “If that's the case, you can join us. You look like you need the fun,” He takes a step closer, closing the little space between their bodies and Ilya painfully realizes that the alpha is taller and his presence and aura is hovering.

Ilya blinks and takes a step back. “The Don needs you for an important mission,” 

Valen smirks and tilts his head. “You're cute for an alpha,” he states, then he moves his face in, drawing in a deep breath and sniffing Ilya’ scent. “You smell good too. Too good for an alpha…more like…” he trails off, tapping his chin as he thinks, then his green eyes twinkle when he comes to a conclusion. “…like an Omega,” 

Ilya hides the twitches in his hands by holding them behind him. “That’s inappropriate Mr. D’Avorin,”

Valen chuckles. “I'm messing with you, Soldier,” then he turns and walks back to his naked Omegas. “Tell my father I will join him once I'm done here,” he waves his hand dismissively.

Ilya doesn't stand there even for another second as he turns and walks out of the room and as soon as he shuts the door, he takes a deep breath, coming to the conclusion that nothing's going to change his mind about hating the player, Valen D’Avorin.

How people stand the sight of him puzzles Ilya to no end.

~*~

The moment Ilya returns to his bedroom, the first thing he does is to grab the box under the bed and takes out a syringe and without hesitation, he injects its content into his body.

Ilya exhales slowly as the serum sinks into his veins, feeling the familiar burn smearing under his skin, suppressing what he is.

You see, Ilya is a liar and that lie has teeth. So, Valen guessed right even though it was a joke; Ilya is an omega hiding behind suppressants and living in an alpha dominated world.

He presses the syringe until there’s nothing left, and drops it back into the box.

He feels he can breathe properly now. He can't have anyone know his secret, he will not only lose his life, it will also ruin everything he has worked hard for.

His plans.

His revenge.

The D’Avorin family.

He will destroy everything from the inside.