Page 50 of Ruined By the Mafia Kings
The chains stretched across the bed, cold metal against warm skin, a constant reminder of their captivity and a promise of future vengeance. When they escaped, and they would escape, De Luca would pay for every moment of suffering he had inflicted on their little mouse.
Conall shifted on his side of the bed, his green eyes never leaving Ty’s face. “He’s finally getting some real rest,” he murmured, his hand hovering protectively over Ty’s chest as if to verify the steady heartbeat beneath. “Color’s better too.”
Anders nodded, noting the return of healthy pink to Ty’s previously fever-flushed skin. The dangerous red had faded, replaced by the natural warmth of deep sleep. His hair had dried in tousled waves that Anders found himself wanting to smooth back from his forehead.
Wyatt remained silent at the foot of the bed, his stormy eyes cataloging every detail of Ty’s condition with methodical precision. His chain clinked softly as he adjusted his position, the sound drawing a slight furrow to Ty’s brow even in sleep.
“Easy, little mouse,” Conall whispered, his finger gently smoothing away the tension line. “You’re safe now.”
The words seemed to register even in sleep, Ty’s expression relaxing as he unconsciously shifted closer to Conall’s warmth. The simple gesture of trust sent an unexpected surge of satisfaction through Anders’ chest, a possessive pride he hadn’t anticipated feeling toward their captive omega.
The metallic sound of the outer door unlocking shattered the quiet moment. All three alphas tensed instantly, their bodies instinctively moving to shield Ty’s sleeping form. Anders positioned himself at the head of the bed, his chain extending to its full length as he placed himself between the door and their little mouse. Conall and Wyatt flanked Ty’s sides, their expressions hardening from tender concern to cold vigilance in an instant.
Peters and Rodriguez entered, carrying the usual afternoon meal trays. Both guards froze in the doorway, their eyes widening at the sight of the naked omega sleeping in Anders’ bed, surrounded by all three equally naked alphas.
“What the fuck?” Peters sputtered, nearly dropping his tray. “Is that?—”
“De Luca’s little breeding project,” Conall supplied with a dangerous smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Looks like the old man got exactly what he wanted. Three alpha studs for the price of one.”
Peters’ gaze lingered on Ty’s exposed form, his expression shifting from shock to something uglier, a mixture of disgust and unwanted fascination that made Anders’ hackles rise. “Couldn’thold back, could you?” he sneered. “All three of you taking turns. Fucking disgusting alpha biology.”
Anders’ hand tightened into a fist, the chain at his wrist rattling with the suppressed violence of the gesture. He added Peters’ name to the mental list of those who would suffer slowly when they escaped.
“The little bitch seems to have enjoyed it,” Peters added, his tone dripping with contempt as he set the tray down. “Typical omega, spread your legs for any alpha with a knot, right?”
Wyatt’s expression didn’t change, but the temperature in the room seemed to drop several degrees. His stormy eyes fixed on Peters with such focused intensity that the guard unconsciously took a step back.
“De Luca will be pleased,” Peters continued, regaining his composure. “Though you’ll need to keep breeding him until conception is confirmed. That’s the whole point of this little arrangement.”
“Like watching, do you?” Conall asked, his usual playfulness replaced by something darker as he deliberately draped a protective arm across Ty’s sleeping form. “Want a closer look? I’d be happy to demonstrate exactly what I’ll do to anyone who speaks about our omega that way once these chains are off.”
Peters paled slightly but recovered with a sneer. “Big talk from a man in chains. You three aren’t going anywhere, and that omega is just De Luca’s breeding vessel. Nothing more.”
Anders felt a cold rage settle in his chest, a focused fury that clarified rather than clouded his thinking. He memorized every detail of Peters’ face, cataloging it for future retribution. The guard’s death had just moved from quick to excruciating on Anders’ mental list.
“The boy needs food,” Anders stated, his voice dangerously calm. “And water. And medication for pain and fever.”
Peters snorted. “We brought your food, not his. De Luca didn’t authorize anything for the omega.”
“Then get authorization,” Anders replied, his tone making it clear this wasn’t a request. “Unless you want to explain to De Luca why his ‘breeding vessel’ died of dehydration and heat complications before conception could occur.”
Rodriguez hesitated, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his face. “The omega looks fine to me.”
“He just survived severe heat toxicity,” Anders countered, deliberately using medical terminology to underscore the seriousness. “Without proper hydration and medication, he could slip into organ failure within hours. I doubt De Luca would appreciate his investment being squandered due to your negligence.”
The guards exchanged glances, clearly weighing their options. Finally, Peters nodded reluctantly. “I’ll check with the doctor. But if you’re lying…”
“I’m not,” Anders cut him off. “And while you’re at it, tell De Luca his omega needs proper care if he expects this arrangement to succeed. Even breeding stock requires maintenance.”
The words tasted bitter in his mouth, reducing Ty to property, but Anders knew it was the language De Luca and his men would understand. The end justified the means if it got their little mouse the care he needed.
“We’ll be back,” Peters said, his eyes lingering unpleasantly on Ty’s sleeping form one last time before both guards retreated, locking the door behind them.
The moment they were gone, Conall’s expression darkened. “Peters die slowly,” he said, his usual charm completely absent. “Very slowly.”
Anders nodded in agreement, their brotherhood requiring no further discussion on the matter. The guard’s fate was sealed, it was simply a matter of time.
Ty stirred slightly, his brow furrowing as if sensing the tension in the room even through his exhausted sleep. Anders found himself reaching out to smooth the furrow away, the gesture coming naturally despite its unfamiliarity.
