Masuk
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.
Ilya wakes up feeling like his insides have been torched up in flames.Slowly, his eyes flutter open, and he discovers everything is a total blur. A groan leaves his lips at the pain surging through his body. He tries to move but realizes painfully that he can’t. His breathing catches in his throat.For a few seconds, he doesn't understand why he can't move. His mind feels foggy, his thoughts scattered as he tries to remember where he is and what happened, and then the pain comes rushing back.His head throbs violently, a sharp ache spreading from the back of his skull down his neck. His entire body feels sore, as though every bone has been beaten against something hard. There is a deep burning sensation across his ribs, his arms, and his legs, and when he tries to shift his weight, something cold and heavy digs painfully into his wrists.Ilya's brows pull together, and he tries again but is met by the sound of metal scraping against the floor, echoing through the room. His eyes widen
The Don isn't the one responsible for the death of your family.Those are the only words that echo in Ilya’s head as he lies awake the rest of the night. The moment Valen left the penthouse, he got the chance to leave, and he took it immediately. He needs to know what Reis meant by those words.If the Don didn’t do it, then who did? Could it be that Ilya has spent years hating and seeking revenge on the wrong person? Can he even trust any word that comes out of Reis’ mouth?“I knew you were going to show up.” Reis smiles once Ilya shows up on the third floor of the unfinished building with a clenched jaw and determined eyes as they drill a hole through Reis’ face, and the alpha wears a smile as he pushes himself off the pillar he’s resting on and strides towards Ilya.He tilts his head, racking his face over Ilya’s body before looking up to meet his eyes. “Does your alpha know you’re here? He won’t be so happy.”“I’m not here for your bullshit, Reis. What the fuck did you mean?” Ilya
Ilya had gone back to Valen's penthouse under the rain and the moment he arrived, he ignored the alpha and went straight to the bathroom, stripping himself of his clothes and stepping under the warmth of the shower, letting the hot water run over his skin as he closed his eyes. The sound of the water falling around him fills the bathroom, but it does nothing to quiet his thoughts.He spent the entire time echoing each word Warren said to him at the cemetery.Each word, warning, and each reminder that there was still a way out if he was willing to take it.Only if it were so easy to leave everything behind and start anew but it isn't. Ilya has come too far. He has made a promise and he intends to keep that promise.His fingers curl slowly at his sides as he stands beneath the shower, his head dropping slightly. He knows what he has gotten himself into, and he knows there is no simple way out of it anymore. Whatever happens next, he has to see it through.Thirty minutes, that's how long
The sky above the cemetery is a shade of gray, threatening to break open and pour rain at any given second while the wind howls through the trees, carrying the chill of the incoming winter.Ilya stands before the familiar gravestones with a single rose. Slowly, he drops to one knee, and instantly, the damp grass soaks through the fabric of his trousers, and gently, he brushes off the collection of dead leaves from the carved names of his mother, father, and two sisters.Instantly, Ilya is overwhelmed with a suffocating weight of grief, a pain he has carried on his own for many years. He's too familiar with it, yet it tightens around his throat like a vine."I'm sorry it took me so long to visit," he whispers, his voice raw, stripped of the tough persona he wears for the rest of the world. Here, he's allowed to be vulnerable and seen.He stares at the worn stone, and the memories return."I haven't forgotten," he continues, his voice dropping into a vow. Slowly, he reaches out to trace
The maître d’ pulls out the velvet chair, and Valen takes his seat with a completely unapologetic expression. Well, you see, he’s exactly forty-five minutes late to the dinner date.Sitting across the table is Warren, his so-called Omega fiancée.Valen tilts his head as he notices the changed demeanor in the Omega; he recalled seeing a terrified, trembling little thing on their first meeting, keeping his eyes on the floor and stuttering through every sentence, but tonight, however, the act is gone. Warren is calmly sipping a glass of expensive red wine, his posture completely relaxed, like this is just another business meeting that he can wait to get over and done with.An amused smile crosses Valen's lips as he licks up his own glass of wine and takes a sip. It's the first time someone has been this nonchalant around him, and he's almost intrigued."Traffic?" Warren asks, his tone entirely casual."Something like that," Valen replies dryly, and then Warren reaches over the waiter fo
The night is cold against Rue's skin, but she barely feels it as she speeds down the corner, panting heavily. Her heart is almost beating out of her chest, pounding as if she's being chased by the devil himself... or maybe she is. Because the one behind her is a monster.She keeps running, looking over her shoulder until she collapses against the wall of a dark alley. She doesn't dare waste another second, but the moment she tries to run again, all she hears is a sharp whistling sound before a blade flies across the air and hits her square in the shoulder, sending her violently back against the wall.She cries out in pain, but before she can even catch her breath, a suffocating wave of pheromones hits her with full force, and, in a wink, a hand grips her neck, and her back is brutally slammed against the brick, completely choking the air out of her lungs."Keep running. I dare you," Theon growls, his face mere inches away from hers while his gaze blazes with rage.Rue chokes, her hand
Panic shoots through Soren like wild lava. For one, he can't fucking see in the dark, and someone is shooting in the dark; anyone could be hit with a fucking bullet. Soren blindly takes cover just as another loud bang echoes throughout the room. Then another, followed by more gunshots.The screams
Three days later, Ilya returns to work at the D’Avorin mansion wearing a black turtle neck tucked into a pair of pants but with a new mission in mind. The new plan is simple; get Valen D’Avorin out of his way and break free from this cursed bond. His jaw clenches as he walks down the long hall, i
Ilya wakes up mindlessly. He scratches the back of his head as he drags himself off the bed and aimlessly finds the door to the bathroom, ignoring the ache between his thighs and lower back. The bathroom light is too bright and the smell of whiskey and cedarwood mixed with his own caramel scent sw
Ilya has learned early that revenge works best when it looks like loyalty, no one expects it coming, it's easier when you wear the same uniform as your enemies and sleep under their roof.Oh, how much Ilya hates them; the D’Avorin family. Every single one of them makes his blood boil, makes him wan







