Page 51 of Ruined By the Mafia Kings
“They’ll bring what he needs,” Anders said, his voice softening as he looked down at their sleeping little mouse. “De Luca won’t risk losing his ‘investment.’”
The word felt wrong in his mouth, reducing Ty to a commodity, but Anders knew it was how De Luca viewed him. The old man’s mistake was assuming the alphas would share that view, that they would see Ty as nothing more than a means to an end, a vessel for their seed.
What De Luca couldn’t have anticipated was how Ty’s courage and defiance would affect them. How his sharp tongue and stubborn will would awaken something protective in all three of them. How his vulnerability during the heat crisis would trigger instincts that went beyond simple biology.
The door unlocked again nearly thirty minutes later. Rodriguez returned with a tray containing water, soup, bread, and several pill bottles. He set it down quickly, clearly uncomfortable.
“Doctor says to give him these for the fever and pain,” he said, avoiding eye contact with any of the alphas. “And to make sure he drinks all the water. De Luca wants daily reports on his condition.”
“How thoughtful,” Conall remarked, his tone suggesting it was anything but. “Tell your boss we’re taking excellent care of his little project.”
Rodriguez said nothing more before retreating, the lock engaging with a heavy click behind him.
Anders examined the medication bottles, reading the labels carefully. His knowledge of pharmaceuticals, gained through years of strategic necessity in their business dealings, told himthese were standard pain relievers and fever reducers. Nothing that would harm Ty.
As if sensing the activity around him, Ty began to stir, his eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks before slowly opening. For a moment, confusion clouded his hazel eyes as he took in his surroundings—the unfamiliar bed, the three alphas surrounding him, his own nakedness.
“Well,” he croaked, his voice rough from sleep, “this is awkward. Did I miss the part where we all agreed to morning cuddles? Because I definitely don’t remember signing up for the alpha sandwich special.”
Conall’s laugh broke the tension, genuine amusement replacing the cold fury that had gripped him during the guards’ visit. “There he is,” he said, relief evident in his voice. “I was beginning to worry we’d broken that sharp tongue of yours, little mouse.”
“It would take more than three alphas to break me,” Ty retorted, though the effect was somewhat undermined by the wince that crossed his face as he tried to sit up. “Though I’m pretty sure you three did your best to break other parts of me. Everything hurts. Did I get hit by a truck, or was that just your collective ego?”
Anders felt an unexpected surge of concern at Ty’s obvious discomfort. “Your heat toxicity was severe,” he explained, reaching for the medication the guards had brought. “Your body was shutting down. We had to intervene.”
“By ‘intervene,’ you mean fuck me senseless in a shower,” Ty clarified, his bluntness at odds with the flush creeping up his cheeks. “Not that I’m complaining. Well, I am complaining, but about the pain, not the fucking. That part was… surprisingly not terrible.”
“High praise indeed,” Conall remarked dryly, though Anders didn’t miss the pleased glint in his eye. “He found us ‘not terrible,’ brothers. We should be honored.”
“The bar was low,” Ty shot back, though a hint of a smile played at the corners of his mouth. “Being better than heat toxicity isn’t exactly a high standard.”
Anders uncapped the water bottle and shook out two pills from the medication container. “You need to take these,” he said, his tone making it clear this wasn’t a suggestion. “And drink all of this water. Your body is still recovering.”
Ty eyed the pills suspiciously. “What are they? Because if you think I’m just going to swallow whatever mystery pills you hand me, you clearly haven’t been paying attention to my trust issues.”
“Standard pain relievers,” Anders replied, holding them out on his palm for Ty to inspect. “Nothing that will harm you.”
“And I’m supposed to just take your word for it?” Ty asked, though he was already reaching for the pills. “The word of a mafia alpha whom I’ve repeatedly pissed off?”
“If I wanted to harm you,” Anders pointed out reasonably, “I wouldn’t need pills to do it.”
Ty considered this for a moment, then shrugged. “Fair point.” He took the pills and the water bottle, swallowing them quickly before taking several long gulps of water. “God, I’m thirsty. And hungry. Apparently, three rounds of alpha breeding works up an appetite. Who knew?”
Anders reached for the tray of food, setting it within easy reach on the bed. “You need to eat,” he said, moving to sit against the headboard. “Your body has been through significant stress.”
Before Ty could respond, Anders reached for him, pulling the little mouse into his arms with careful strength. The chain at his wrist jangled softly as he settled Ty between his legs,back against his chest, in one smooth motion that allowed no argument.
“What are you doing?” Ty protested, though he didn’t struggle as Anders arranged him more comfortably. “I’m not a ventriloquist dummy you can position however you want.”
“You’re weak,” Anders stated matter-of-factly, reaching for the bowl of soup. “This position provides better support.”
“And gives you complete control,” Ty said, though he relaxed slightly against Anders’ chest, his body betraying his exhaustion despite his protests. “Always the strategist, aren’t you?”
“Always,” Anders agreed, dipping the spoon into the broth and bringing it to Ty’s lips. “Now eat.”
Ty stared at the spoon Anders was holding out to him, then at Anders himself, disbelief written across his features. “You’re not seriously trying to feed me, are you? Because I lost my heat, not my motor skills.”
“Humor him,” Conall suggested with a grin. “He likes feeling useful. And in control. Mostly in control.”
