Page 44 of Ruined By the Mafia Kings
Anders shot him a warning glance but didn’t deny it. There was no point lying to Wyatt—his sworn brother saw everything, missed nothing.
As if sensing their discussion, Ty’s breathing changed, his body tensing slightly as consciousness began to return. Anders watched Ty’s face as awareness crept in—the slight furrow of his brow, the flutter of eyelashes, the moment of confusion before memory returned.
“Wha—” Ty started, his voice thick with sleep as his eyes opened. He froze when he realized where he was, who he was with. “Shit. I fell asleep.”
“Very observant,” Anders replied, his voice deliberately casual despite the unwanted surge of satisfaction he felt at having the young man wake in his arms. “Your deductive skills are truly remarkable.”
Ty pushed himself up on his elbows, wincing slightly. “Don’t start with me, Mr. Iceflare. My brain isn’t online until I’ve had at least one cup of coffee and a chance to regret all my life choices.”
“And yet your sarcasm function seems to be working perfectly,” Anders replied, his hand still resting possessively on Ty’s hip. “Impressive multitasking.”
“It’s automated,” Ty shot back. “Like breathing or finding myself in life-threatening situations with dangerous alphas. Just happens naturally.”
Conall’s laugh echoed from across the room. “I like him, Anders. Can we keep him?”
“I’m not a stray cat,” Ty said, though his scent spiked with something complex at Conall’s words. “And I should go.”
Anders felt a flash of something dangerously close to disappointment. “Running away already, little mouse?”
“Not running,” Ty corrected, sitting up fully now, the sheet pooling around his waist. “Making a strategic retreat. There’s a difference.”
“And what strategy dictates your retreat?” Anders asked, his hand still resting possessively on Ty’s hip, unwilling to release him just yet.
Ty’s eyes met his, and for once, the omega’s usual defenses were down, revealing something raw and vulnerable beneath. “Self-preservation. I’m not stupid enough to think this”—he gestured between them—“changes anything. You’re still going to come after me when you get free. I’m still on your hit list. This was just biology.”
“Is that what you think this was?” Conall asked, his tone gentler than usual. “Just biology?”
“What else could it be?” Ty replied, but his scent betrayed his uncertainty. “You three are mafia alphas who’ve been forced into captivity, and I’m the omega who… who helped De Luca. There’s no scenario where this ends well for me.”
“Smart mouse,” Wyatt commented, his gray eyes never leaving Ty’s face. “Sees the trap.”
“The trap I’m already in,” Ty corrected, finally pulling away from Anders’ touch. The chain clinked softly as Anders’ arm fell back to the bed. “Look, let’s not pretend this was anything more than what it was, a heat-induced lapse in judgment that happened to be mutually satisfying. Like a really intense one-night stand, except with three alphas and the constant threat of death hanging over my head. You know, totally normal Tuesday stuff.”
Anders watched as Ty searched for his t-shirt, the omega’s movements betraying his discomfort despite his attempt at nonchalance. There was something almost endearing about his determination to maintain his sarcastic facade even now, naked and marked by three alpha scents.
“You’ll be back,” Anders said, the words more observation than challenge. “Your heat isn’t completely broken.”
Ty paused in the act of pulling on his shirt, his back stiffening. “Maybe. If De Luca forces me. Or if my heat flares up again. But not because I want to be.”
“Liar,” Conall called out cheerfully. “Your scent gives you away every time, little mouse. You enjoyed last night as much as we did.”
“My body enjoyed it,” Ty corrected, turning to face them. “My brain knows better than to get attached to three alphas who are going to hunt me down the minute they break those chains.”
The blunt assessment hung in the air between them, uncomfortable in its accuracy.
“Smart mouse,” Wyatt repeated, something like respect in his quiet voice.
“Not smart enough to avoid this situation in the first place,” Ty said, running a hand through his tousled hair. “But hey, we all have our off days.”
He moved toward the door to his quarters, each step seeming to require effort, as if his body resisted the separation his minddemanded. At the threshold, he paused, glancing back with his usual defensive snark firmly back in place.
“Try not to miss me too much,” he said with forced lightness. “I know how empty your lives must be without my sparkling personality to brighten your dungeon.”
Before any of them could respond, Ty slipped through the door, closing it firmly behind him.
The scent of him lingered, jasmine and honey and something uniquely Ty, mixed now with their own markers, creating a complex blend that stirred something possessive in Anders’ chest.
“Well,” Conall said after a moment of silence, “he’s certainly… something.”
