◆ The Alpha and His Mate ◆

Los Angeles, California

◆ MAGNUS ◆

American soil. Finally.

After weeks of lonesome, anxious, sleepless nights in unfamiliar territory... Going home never felt so easy and gratifying until now. At long last.

Broad daylight. Free to drive around the city. No unwanted company. No gun-toting punks tailing me everywhere I went. Even better: no demeaning mafia boss telling me what to do. Bossing me around every way he could.

Shit. I missed this place and the anonymity.

Nothing like living your days and nights of your own accord. Driving to wherever you wanted. Whenever you felt like it.

Except now I only had one destination in mind:

Evonne.

She should be home. Alone. Waiting for me? Highly unlikely, but I still hoped for it. Days on end, I'd been waiting for this, hoping and praying hard for things to go back to normal. I wasn't even the religious type.

That last argument shouldn't matter. Shouldn't be the deal-breaker.

Things were looking up again. I stepped on the accelerator, letting a smile stay on my face. Even this brand new car reminded me of her. I only chose this because of her color preference. As a security measure, I didn't use my real name during the transaction.

The interior still smelled of air freshener and a newly opened shoe box. Another five-figure expense I incurred over the weekend. My bank accounts didn't mind. Perks of having a filthy rich mafia boss for a father.

I drove past another empty intersection, mulling over the other impulsive investments I'd made just recently. I just bought a house and lot in South America. Somewhere private and safe. I could take Evonne there as soon as tomorrow. A quieter, much safer life waited for us there.

Would she go along with my plans?

Long shot, but, hoping for the best might just work this time.

After an hour of quiet driving, I glanced around the corner of the street I used to jog around every night. I'd expected she would've sold the house by this time.

For some reason, Evonne chose to keep it. She lived alone in an apartment in another city after we separated. But she moved back here and into our old home...perhaps upon hearing I'd disappeared after paying my father a visit in Belgrade.

Evie and I had bought this two-storey house before our wedding. Almost a decade ago. Yet my brain could still recall a bunch of details. We had just gotten engaged that time. She really liked the area.

Quiet suburb. Full of trees. Spacious. Fresh air.

I pulled over outside our old fence—tall, thick, solid concrete. I turned off the engine.

A black SUV was parked inside. The iron gates didn't open for me.

Good. The security system was still intact. I checked my phone screen. The real-time video feed streaming into my phone still showed her sleeping in the master bedroom.

With clammy hands and pounding heart, I unbuckled my seatbelt and got out of the vehicle. Finally. I'd get to see her again.

Hear her voice. Touch her. Hug her. Tell her how much I regretted leaving her.

We'd start fresh. Alone and in another country. Away from all the danger and chaos.

“Everything's gonna be okay again, my love.”

◆

"What's the catch?"

I stayed put and blocked the urge to step closer and embrace her tight. I had snuck into the bedroom minutes ago, startling her awake.

The shock on her face didn't exactly spell 'pleasantly surprised', but at least she didn't hurl the lamp at me. Plus, she was actually talking to me now. "Why let you leave?" Evonne sat on the left side of the bed—our old bed—with her long brown hair all tousled. Her small and gorgeous face still looked quite puffy from sleep. "Why'd he let you go?"

"Can't tell you." I dropped my gaze and focused on the thick carpet instead. Hesitation gripped my thoughts. The things I should and shouldn't tell her was a long list.

She just didn't look like she had the patience or energy. Evonne scoffed. "You actually want me to beg?" Her tone remained flat. She wouldn't even look me in the eye, as if she already expected to hear the worst.

"Sorry. I can't tell you."

"I need to know, Magnus."

"You don't."

"Please..." Her voice got louder, shakier. Evie stared at me, ignoring the dimness, the paleness of her smooth face and the dark skin under her eyes giving me enough guilt to last the whole week.

To be fair, I should give her real answers. Some peace of mind. Or I could twist some truths to give her a sense of security.

Then again, she was smarter than me. By a mile. And if I told her what's really going on in my life, she might actually entertain second thoughts about the divorce papers.

"Don't you trust me? At all?" she murmured with creased brows. Sadness and real disappointment narrowed her teary eyes that were partly covered by dark lashes. Wrinkled oversized shirt. Messy hair. Not a hint of makeup on.

Beautiful. How the heck did she always look so beautiful? The fact just stuck a thick knife of regret into my chest. Most days I just felt like I didn't deserve her at all.

"I couldn't sleep. Couldn't eat. Couldn't work." Evie looked away. Her voice faltered while she gripped the sheets. "For months, all I did was rot in here...waiting for you to show up like nothing happened." No longer holding back emotions, she shook her head weakly and clenched her jaw, avoiding my eyes again.

Screw it. The last thing I wanted to do was make her cry. Again. For the hundredth time.

Lately it felt like all I've done was give her reasons to feel like crap, as if nothing in our tumultuous married life was worth salvaging. But she was unfortunately still stuck with me. On paper, at least.

"Just tell me."

"You don't need to know."

"Don't talk to me like I don't know anything."

Fuck. Her eyes...her tears...her beautiful voice. Just too much. I swallowed the clod of guilt eating at my conscience. "Ilya wants me to kill Stefano Falco and his son."

◆

"What?"

"Then Ricchar, the next heir." I stared back at her, acknowledging the disbelief in her reaction.

"You're serious," she muttered. Her voice sounded like a mere whisper.

"Mess up the family tree so the business suffers." I sighed out loud and looked away. "Take them out one by one."

Evonne fidgeted on the bed, crossing her legs under the thick covers as she appeared to let my words sink in. "Are you..." She sniveled. "Are you planning on it now?"

I shrugged. I still couldn't think of a new plan, for us to steer clear of Ilya and his troublesome clan of ambitious, violence-prone vamps.

For more than a decade now, I'd tried to ignore Ilya's existence and stayed away from his complicated deals with the mafia for Evonne's sake.

Sure. This used to be nothing more than a marriage of convenience, but she didn't exactly sign up for that life. She didn't ask to get tangled into Ilya and the Božićs' chaotic menace.

I only paid Ilya a visit again because I heard he was critically ill and dying. I stupidly fell for the trap again. He wasn't even in the hospital when I visited him. A ll we talked about was how much he wanted to remove the Falcos from the drug trade, so he could focus on bringing down the Tomassinis soon.

Remove them permanently from this Earth. I indulged the man's argument and listened to him vent, only because he's my blood. But I wasn't a murderer or a criminal mastermind.

That was his Russian clan's expertise.

"Why do you have to do it?" Evie scowled. "Why not just call and pay someone else?"

"You know he doesn't trust anyone except Erian. His longtime thugs. And Niccolo. Last time I checked, Erian's still in prison. They're all wanted by Interpol except Nicco. But that kid's no killer by any means," I sighed.

Niccolo could dig up dirt on anyone in no time and hack his way into the most sophisticated networks in the world, but the kid just didn't have the guts to harm anyone. Couldn't even shoot for shit to save his life, if Ilya wasn't exaggerating.

"He still hates Stefano that much? All these years? Just 'cause of that stupid port deal?" Evie pulled a face again.

"You know how he is." I shook my head faintly, too tired and morally exhausted to delve deeper into my father's homicidal tendencies.

"Then what? Who's next? After the Falcos."

"He would just have to concentrate on the Tomassinis, then the Marchesas. The Albanians. Less competition, bigger turf, more money."

Filthy, crime-magnet, soul-sucking money. Ilya gave me another option, though. Since I told him I didn't want anything to do with the mafia clans in Italy, he gave me an ultimatum. My inheritance was on the line, he'd said. As if I needed another threat.

In the event of his death, he would hand over the ownership of their multibillion conglomerate to me, his eldest son. Only if I found and brought my half-sister to Belgrade. ASAP.

Sofija.

The last I'd heard of her: she was living in Italy with Maximiliano Falco, Stefano Falco's only son, and working as a model.

After 25 years of no contact with her and the mother, for some reason, Ilya wanted to see his only daughter, seeming eager to be part of her life. What for?

I had a few suspicions. No definite answers yet. But Niccolo might talk. If Stefano hadn't murdered him yet, Nicco would spill some helpful information.

"Is it true?" Evonne squinted at me. "Ilya's dying?"

"Maybe. He was hooked to a dialysis machine when I got there. Or some other kind of medical equipment."

Perhaps the rumors weren't just rumors.

Part of me still doubted everything because pureblood vampirars rarely suffered or died from common diseases. "The superior race of modern times," some had remarked.

If they still thought the same, most likely they didn't know much about hybrids yet. I was practically invincible. And Ilya was rather envious of the fact. But of course he'd never say it to my face.

As far as I knew, he'd been meticulously watching his health. Wouldn't even drink blood from blood banks. "Don't want to risk it," he'd said.

But if he actually was dying, I wouldn't be surprised if he wanted to keep it under wraps just to maintain his reputation. He was egotistic to that extent. Arguably more narcissistic than most billionaires I knew.

"The insurmountable pride of an alpha." And all that bullshit.

Before my thoughts digressed further, Evonne heaved a sigh, not even meeting my gaze.

I sat on the edge of the bed just to be near her. I missed these quiet, private moments with her. The last time I sat on this bed with her felt like ages ago. "Told you it's not something you need to know."

"But I want to."

"Why?" I held in a sigh. I just wanted to take her away. Take her somewhere remote and safe.

Far from my vicious family of monsters. Away from the deadly circle of furious mobsters competing for the top spot in the food chain.

Evie slapped her palms onto the covers. "What d'you mean 'why'?"

"Don't you want to just get away from all this?" I scowled. "Leave this mess? Live a quiet life somewhere and no one around knows a single thing about you?"

"You mean..." Her hand balled into a fist, and her face scrunched at my suggestion. "Migrate to another country?"

"It'll make things so much easier."

As I bit back a few harsher comments, she just stared at me with a disappointed frown, as though I sounded ridiculous. "Just like that, huh?"

"Yes! Because I want you safe. I want you to spend the rest of your life with me."

"Leave all my family, my friends, my career?"

Of course. We had to cut all ties. I would fake our own deaths if need be. "It's necessary."

"You really think it's that easy?" Evonne looked away, shaking her head weakly. Her voice cracked at that last part. Tears dampened her flushed cheeks, and it made me want to hit something.

"I just want you somewhere safe. Away from all of them."

"You selfish bastard." She hastily wiped off a tear.

Then came the silence. Total silence.

A minute stretched into a long while of no eye contact and heavy feelings of regret. Loneliness. Deep-seated insecurities.

She truly hated me now—I was 110% percent sure of the fact. A given, but it shouldn't stop me from confronting our past, from ditching all inhibitions. I drove all the way out here on three hours of sleep just to find out if there's still a diminutive part of her that believed our relationship still had a chance.

Fix everything that's been broken. Forgive. Trust. Love. Did she even want me back? I doubted it, but, hoping for another chance to be her husband wouldn't kill me.

"I should hate you. I really should."

The emotions welling up in her eyes crushed my hopes further, but I shrugged it off to seem unaffected. "You should." I clenched my fist, recalling the reasons. A fucking multitude. "I'm sorry."

"Like that's gonna do anything." Evonne pressed her face onto her dainty palms. Then another noiseless, tense moment filled the dim room.

"I was just trying to protect you from all the shit that's been goin' on."

No response.

"Evie, I'm sorry." Fuck. I blew it. "I don't know what else to say."

"Can't you just leave me be?"

Okay. Her point was valid, and she was entitled to feel this way. But we were still husband and wife. Legally. That much I was sure of.

"Why do you keep messing up my life like this?" Her voice drifted off to a murmur. Evie smothered her sobs with her palm.

The mere sound tore off another piece of my soul. "Because no matter what your family thinks, I'm still here." I grabbed her delicate wrist. Sure, she wanted to be alone to process all this, but I could still talk her into forgiving me. For being away too long. For being the worst spouse. For not being there for her when she needed me most.

She didn't say anything else. Evonne just cried harder with her fists clenched.

"You're still my wife."

"Screw you." She whimpered, unable to stop the sobs when I got close enough, her hands cold to my touch.

It took a lot of restraint to stay still. I did nothing but try to calm her down. Darn. The situation hurt me, too. But, it was now or never. I had to prove my intentions more than ever. Do everything possible to save our relationship...or what's left of it.

Evonne pushed me off every time I would try to embrace her. Until eventually, she just let me hold her.

The relief eased the tight knots in my chest. "I missed you, darling." I muttered more apologies while she cried in my arms.

"I thought I wouldn't see you again."

"Stop it." I hugged her tighter.

Evonne didn't flinch. Although it didn't mean I was already forgiven, at least she was no longer furious and trembling.

"I'm here," I sighed. "We're fine. We'll figure it out."

◆