4. Alessandro

--Alessandro--

"Pops, I can't do what you're asking me to do, Dad," I yelled at my grandpa angrily. I couldn't marry a girl I knew nothing about, especially a human. The very idea of tying my life to someone I hadn't chosen or even known felt like a betrayal to my own autonomy and the memory of Athena.

"Yes, you are going to marry her, Alessandro. You don't want to get mated again after Athena died," he mentioned, causing my wolf to groan at him.

"Alessandro, listen. You will like her. She's pretty and a nice girl. I met her when she was sixteen at the mall. Please, Alessandro, listen to me. You are the mafia don and the alpha of the Rivermoon Pack; you need a woman by your side, and you know that pretty well." His voice softened as he tried to persuade me, but his words felt like a knife.

"I can look for someone if that's what you want, but you'd have to give me time and stop stressing Mr. Roberts like that. He doesn't deserve all that you're doing," I muttered, trying to guilt-trip him so he would listen to what I had to say.

"No, I'm not falling for whatever you have to say this time. It's been almost a year since you told me the same thing, and where is your mate?" he asked, smoking on his cigar. His voice was steady, unyielding, and filled with the authority that came with years of leading both a mafia family and a werewolf pack. He was a man who had seen and endured much, and his patience was wearing thin.

My grandpa was a wise man and always got what he wanted. I didn't want the idea of marrying a weakling when I had no time or energy to take care of that. The responsibilities I shouldered were immense, and adding the care of someone who couldn't understand our world or our struggles seemed not only impractical but also perilous. The woman he wanted me to marry was an unknown variable, a human with no understanding of our ways, and the risk was too great. Yet, I knew defying him wouldn't be easy. He was determined, and his will was like iron.

The room seemed to close in on me, the weight of tradition, duty, and my own grief pressing down. My grandfather's eyes bore into mine, a silent command mixed with an unspoken understanding of my pain. Despite our differences, he was family, and his decisions were driven by a desire to see me strong, both as a leader and as a man. But this was my life, my future, and I couldn't let it be dictated by a decision I wasn't ready to make. The battle between duty and personal desire raged within me, and I knew this was a fight that wouldn't end easily.

"For God’s sake, she's just eighteen, Pops," I muttered, trying to change his mind about this marriage. The desperation in my voice was palpable, but I knew that reasoning with him would be challenging. Pops was a man of tradition and unyielding determination. He had seen too much to be swayed easily by emotional pleas.

I couldn't go against Pops; after my parents died a tragic death when I was small, Pops was the one who took care of me. His shadow loomed large over my life, both a protector and a commanding presence. He had raised me with a firm hand and a fierce love that shaped me into the man I was today.

He was always there when I had a nightmare. I remembered those dark nights vividly—waking up in cold sweats, haunted by visions of my parents’ death. Pops would be there, sitting by my bed, his rough hand comforting me, his deep voice driving away the fears. He was always there at all my graduations, beaming with pride, his eyes moist with unspoken emotions. From elementary school to college, his support was unwavering. Every step I took was under his watchful eye.

I inherited the mafia title from him since he had to go for that title when I was young to be able to protect me. Being a werewolf wasn't that much to protect oneself. The dual roles of being a mafia don and an alpha were burdensome, but Pops embraced them with an iron will. His commitment to protecting me went beyond normal paternal care; it was a life dedicated to shielding me from the threats of both our worlds.

Of course, none of the humans knew that I was a werewolf. I was known by all as Alessandro Leonardo De Luca, the handsome bachelor in Forbes up to date. My public persona was meticulously crafted. The humans saw me as a successful entrepreneur, leading De Luca Industries, one of the largest conglomerates in Italy. The media painted me as a business prodigy, a charming and ruthless tycoon who conquered the corporate world with ease.

I run the biggest company, De Luca Industries, and all the workers were werewolves from my world. My employees were fiercely loyal, not just because I was their alpha, but because we shared a bond that humans could never understand. We operated under the guise of a legitimate business, but beneath the surface, our werewolf heritage influenced every decision.

In the underworld, I was the mafia don of Italy, where my pack is located. My reputation in the criminal underworld was built on fear and respect. Rivermoon Pack was known to be untouchable, our strength and unity unmatched. My ruthlessness was a necessary trait in this world; mercy was a luxury I couldn’t afford.

I admit I am ruthless and unkind to any single soul that tampered with my success. After the death of my mate Athena, I do not want to mate with any other female. The loss of Athena had hardened me. She was my mate, but the bond we shared was more of duty than love. I respected her and the role she played in my life, but affection had never blossomed between us. Athena was my mate, but I had no ounce of love for her, not even my wolf Rocci. My wolf mirrored my feelings, indifferent to her presence, focused only on our survival and success.

Now, Pops was asking me to open my life to another woman, a human girl no less. The thought of it was unbearable.

I was heartless, killing without batting an eye. My hands were stained with the blood of those who dared to cross me or threaten my pack. Mercy was a foreign concept, one I had discarded long ago in favor of survival and dominance. Why was grandpa trying to shove a girl onto me when, in the end, the only thing she was going to receive was pain? The path I walked was paved with danger and death, a far cry from the life of normalcy this girl probably imagined.

Sitting inside the study, I sat in front of Pops while I drank a glass of martini. The dim light cast long shadows across the room, and the rich scent of leather and old books filled the air. Pops' study was a sanctuary of power and tradition, a place where decisions that shaped our world were made.

"Alessandro, you don't have a say in what I want to do. You are going to marry this girl, and there is nothing you can do," he muttered with all seriousness. His voice was low but firm, each word a hammer blow to my rebellious spirit. His gaze was unyielding, and I knew from the set of his jaw that he wouldn’t entertain any further arguments.

Sh*t. He was serious. I thought he was trying to get on my neck. The realization hit me hard. This wasn't a negotiation or a plea—it was an order. Pops had made up his mind, and once he decided on something, there was little that could change his course. The gravity of the situation settled over me like a heavy cloak.

I just nodded, not even giving a f*ck. I could marry her, but I wouldn't regard her as my wife. She could be my f*ck buddy for all I care. My heart had long been encased in ice, and the thought of forming a genuine bond with her was laughable. She would be nothing more than a tool, a pawn in the grand game of power and alliances.

"The wedding is in a month," he muttered, causing me to choke on my martini. The sudden announcement was like a punch to the gut. I had expected some time to come to terms with this, but a month? That was absurdly soon.

"Yeah, it is, so get ready," he muttered sarcastically. His tone was laced with a dark humor, knowing full well the storm that brewed inside me. He relished these moments of control, these opportunities to assert his dominance and remind me of my place.

Who was this girl? What did Pops see in her? I was sure she was just a gold digger after my money; that's why she agreed to marry me for the money. My mind raced with cynical assumptions. She had to be after something—no one in their right mind would willingly enter my world without an ulterior motive.

"I'm sure she is," Rocci said in my head. My wolf was always more suspicious than me, his instincts sharper and his distrust deeper. He echoed my sentiments, a constant reminder of the treachery we had to be wary of.

"Alpha, there is a problem at the White House now," my first in command and also my beta Xander mind-linked me. His voice in my mind was a welcome distraction from the chaos brewing in my personal life. The White House was one of our key strongholds, and any disturbance there demanded immediate attention.

I stood up, setting my glass down with a deliberate clink. Duty called, and it was a welcome escape from the suffocating demands of marriage and family. "I'll handle it," I replied to Xander, my mind already shifting to the tactical necessities of dealing with whatever crisis awaited.

"Pops, I have to go. I think there is a problem with the merchandise," I mind-linked him and went out of the room, ready to deal with anyone that betrayed me. The urgency in my stride matched the grim determination in my eyes. My world was one where loyalty was paramount and betrayal was met with swift, unflinching justice. I was prepared to face any threat head-on, knowing that hesitation could mean the difference between life and death.

As I exited, I could feel the weight of Pops' gaze lingering on me. He often observed me with a mix of pride and concern, his own thoughts a turbulent sea beneath his composed exterior.

"I didn't train Alessandro, my grandson, this way. I wanted him to be just ruthless in his dealings but not heartless since you have to be a little hard in ruling the underworld. Since his parents died, he developed this character of not giving a f*ck about anyone, and I didn't like it," Pops reflected, his thoughts echoing in the silence of the study after I left. His heart was heavy with the burden of raising a child who had become a cold, relentless leader out of necessity rather than choice.

The tragic loss of my parents had forged me into a man of steel, unyielding and unapproachable. Pops had hoped that time and care would temper my harshness, but the opposite had occurred. My heart had grown colder, my resolve harder, and my capacity for empathy diminished.

"I thought Athena, his mate, could help him change his attitude, but it only became worse. In fact, he didn't even look her way. The mate bond was too weak to even bring him closer to her; that was how ruthless and heartless he was," Pops mused, recalling the failed attempt to soften my hardened heart through a mate.

Athena had been a beacon of hope, a chance for redemption and connection that I had utterly disregarded. The bond that was supposed to draw us together was a mere whisper against the roaring tempest of my ambition and grief. She became another casualty of my relentless pursuit of power and control.

Despite my personal failings, there was one area where Pops found solace. "The only thing that made me feel that I could trust the pack over to him was when he took care of them better than I even did. He was ruthless but ruled with fairness and justice, making the people love him to hell,"

They didn't try to push his buttons by getting closer to him, but they understood him and cared for him. The pack knew better than to challenge my authority directly, yet they showed their loyalty and affection in subtler ways. They respected the boundaries I set, knowing that behind the iron exterior was a leader who would protect them with his life.

As I made my way to the heart of the operation, my thoughts were consumed by the pressing issue at hand. The merchandise, a critical part of our latest venture, represented more than just profit; it was a symbol of our power and influence. Any problem with it could undermine our authority and invite challenges from rivals.

Reaching the operations hub, I was greeted by the tense faces of my trusted men. "Alpha, we have a situation," Xander, my beta, reported grimly. His tone was measured, but the underlying tension was unmistakable. He knew the consequences of failure as well as I did.

"Show me," I commanded, my voice cold and authoritative. The details began to unfold, each piece of information adding to the picture of a potential betrayal or mishap. My mind worked quickly, formulating strategies and responses. This was my realm, where my ruthlessness was an asset, and my heartlessness a shield. I was ready to deal with whatever came our way, knowing that in this world, only the strong survived.

Pops

I met Cassie Roberts, the daughter of my previous beta’s son James, when I visited their house four years ago, and I must say she was the moon goddess herself, so angelic, so innocent, and at peace. The memory of that first encounter was vivid in my mind. Cassie had a radiant presence that lit up the room. Her soft, golden hair framed a face that seemed untouched by the world's harshness. Her eyes, clear and bright, held a sense of wonder and kindness that was rare in our brutal world. There was an ethereal quality about her, a serenity that was both captivating and soothing.

Immediately, I wanted her for my Alessandro. The loan was going to be for free to my friend, but I changed my mind since that was the only way I could get her to marry him. Cassie’s presence had sparked an idea, a way to mend my grandson's hardened heart. I believed that someone as pure and gentle as Cassie could bring light into Alessandro’s dark world. Her innocence could balance his ruthlessness, her peace could soothe his turmoil.

The stubborn James agreed to lose everything to avoid marrying Cassie to Alessandro. His resistance was fierce, and I understood his fears. He knew Alessandro's reputation, knew that a life with him would be fraught with danger and darkness. James was willing to sacrifice all his possessions, his status, even his security, to protect his daughter from what he perceived as a doomed fate.

I used the one weapon I knew he could not deny, telling Cassie the whole truth about her world being a whole lie. It was a desperate move, but necessary. James had to see the bigger picture, had to understand that this marriage was not just about him or even about Cassie—it was about ensuring the stability and future of our pack. When faced with the unvarnished truth of our reality, James had no choice but to relent.

He agreed immediately. I regretted it afterward, but I needed what was best for Alessandro. The look in James’s eyes when he conceded was one of profound defeat. He loved his daughter deeply, and this decision weighed heavily on him. But my responsibility was to my grandson and my pack. I could go above all heights and lengths just for my grandson. Alessandro needed someone to anchor him, to bring back a semblance of humanity to his life, and I was willing to do whatever it took to make that happen.