The Arch-Alpha Heiress

Lia's POV

This was the day when he started driving me wild...

"Lia, where's my order? It's been five minutes!" Olivia shrieked from the front yard, tapping her heels and donning an ugly stare.

"Someone needed help by the road," I caught a few breaths, slid the door shut and stepped into the open yard.

She crossed her arms, "I don't give a damn. You're five minutes late."

This was how they treated me as the stray at Howlmark's slums. The old ways were gone--packs no longer existed, and ranks were based on social class. As an orphan who aged out and was evicted, I was seen as a rogue.

I lived in the projects—the only place I was welcome. Being homeless meant death, so I swallowed my pride. I wanted to live. I wanted to survive.

I handed Olivia her food. "Here you go, miss."

As I turned to leave, she grabbed my arm. "Where. Is. My. Onion. Dip?!" droplets of her spit landed on my ear.

Gross, but I needed the money; she paid well but was demanding. I rummaged through her food bag and held up the dip. "Here you go..."

Her mouth gaped open. "You call that a dip? But it's half full!"

I replied in a calm and neutral voice, "I'd guess shrinkflation hit The Bistro, too."

Before I could react, Olivia's palm smacked my face. "Don't make me look stupid, trash!" Then she went back to her unit and slammed her door.

I sighed. The job paid, but some people were a pain to deal with. Someday, I'll escape this shithole. I just needed to save up enough money.

Whoosh! The main door suddenly slid open from behind me. We all knew who they were--The Rabidogs, the usual gang that rounded people up from our block, either for racketeering or for jumping in. They were a bit earlier than normal. Can't even get a break, can I?

All the tenants shut their doors tightly; no soul was left for them to see, no one but me. I guess I lucked out that day.

Their gang leader pointed his eyes at me. "Whatcha lookin'at, tomboy bitch?"

"My bad. I'm going," I pulled my baseball cap down over my eyes and briskly walked to reach the staircase, but a thug with a mohawk blocked me along the way.

"Not so fast, rebel girl," he said, chuckling at the mention of "girl." My boyish get up had paid off in avoiding catcallers, but these goons looked like they'd gang up on me, either for flesh or for money.

"Lemme see what you got." He drew closer, his hand reaching for my bag, which was tucked under my forearm. I quickly reacted in defense, grabbing his arm and tripping him as he lunged forward. We all heard his skull crack.

I did it on impulse, without any time to think about how it might put me in more danger. My heart was already pounding hard from it, and then I saw their leader looked shocked and pissed at me.

I cleared my throat but I couldn't move an inch. Fuck. Voice crackling, I said in all honesty, "I didn't mean to do that. I'd never want to mess with the Rabidogs."

Their leader scoffed at me, and spoke in a matter-of-fact tone, "but you already did, bitch."

***

Two goons dragged me forward into a dim and dirty warehouse. There wasn't a single person around—not even security. They tied my hands behind my back and hoisted the ropes onto a thick hook, forcing me onto my toes.

"You already took all my money. What do you still want from me?"

They laughed— all four of them—eyeing me from head to toe. The amused looks on their faces made my stomach churn.

One of them, the one with a face tattoo, glanced at their leader. "She ain't that bad, right, boss?"

The leader smirked. "You wanna fuck her, Inky?"

"I'd fuck her too. I like brunettes--I find 'em sexy." the one with an eyebrow scar butted in, giggling.

"What about you, Spiky?" Their leader turned to the mohawked guy, the same one whose head I'd cracked earlier.

"Damn, what do you think? I wanna beat her to a pulp."

Their leader turned away. "Go ahead, boys. And Spiky—dump her after and leave no trace." Then he walked out, leaving me alone with the three thugs.

Inky stepped closer, leaning over me. He grabbed my chin and licked his lips. "You're gonna give me a good time, alright?"

I spat in his face. His buddies chuckled.

He wiped the spit off his nose. "Ugh, shit," then glanced at Spiky. "We need her dumbed down and weak."

Spiky's grin stretched from ear to ear. "What do you want me to do? Bruise her up or bump her down?"

Inky scratched his head. "Hitting her with a bat is cheaper, Spiky. Just sayin'. Save the coke for later."

"D-Don't hit her face, please," Scarry pleaded.

Spiky laughed. "Haha, Scarry's in love with this damn bitch." He dragged the tip of the bat along the floor as he walked toward me. "Where, Scarry? I'll let you pick."

Scarry fumbled. "T-The thigh."

"Oh, alright. Nice choice." Spiky swung the bat, hitting my thigh—

"Aaagh!" My body jolted in pain.

He glanced over his shoulder. "There. Music to your ears now, Scarry? I can hit harder if you want."

Scarry closed his eyes and was smiling, savoring my agony. "Y-Yeah, haha!"

He enjoyed hearing me suffer. They were all just a bunch of creeps. Spiky twisted the bat in his hands. "Alright, where next?"

"L-Leg—"

"Right leg," Inky cut in with an evil smirk.

"Hahaha, I'm liking this." Spiky took aim again. I thrashed in my restraints desperately, but they just laughed like I was some dying worm squirming in a puddle of bleach.

He swung the bat again and—bang! A gunshot. Straight towards Spiky's head. Smoke rose up from the bullet hole as we saw his head down the ground, and his blood pooled wider and wider.

"Who the fu—"

Bang! Inky's head burst next before he could even finish his sentence. I froze. My breath gasped. I didn't know whether this gunman would spare me or kill me next.

Scarry yanked out his knife, eyes darting around. "Sh-Show yourself, you coward!"

Laughter echoed, revealing it to be a man's voice. Then, just like the others, Scarry dropped dead with a gunshot wound on his head.

The man stepped forward into the light. He wore a light gray business suit, gripping a gun with black leather gloves. His ear-length dark hair was loosely wavy like mine. He stopped in front of me and started to speak with a cold tone. "You're Avalia Myers."

I was still tied up, but his commanding voice made me answer. "I-I am. How do you know me? Who are you?"

He didn't answer. Instead, he lifted his gun and pointed it at the rope suspending me. He didn't break eye contact. "I need you to cooperate with me, Avalia."

"For what? Can you untie me first?" My feet ached from barely balancing on the toe caps of my boots.

He blinked, slowly and deliberately. "...Say yes first."

I swallowed hard. "Okay, as long as you don't kill me or rape me."

"Deal." He pulled the trigger and the rope snapped. I collapsed to the ground, quickly untying my wrists.

Grabbing the bat for support, I forced myself up. "So what do I need to do?"

His face remained stoic and serious. "Help me kill Rogin Kannes."

What the hell? The richest billionaire in Territo?!