Alpha's Luna Is His Enemy

Amy Anderson Singh

I hurried along the sidewalks of San Francisco. The city, with its hills and Victorian architecture, seemed to be watching me as I made my way to the most important job interview of my life. With my heart racing and a mix of excitement and nervousness, I knew that the secretarial position could be the financial salvation for me and my mom, who had fallen ill.

The weight of bank debts and the constant search for peace made it so that nothing could go wrong that day.

As I stopped in front of the massive company building, I put on a confident smile and went inside. Walking through the company, I adjusted my clothes, trying to appear confident despite the lack of it inside me.

The place was grand, with a modern and well-decorated reception area.

I hurried to the reception desk and introduced myself, stating that I was there for the interview.

"May I see your ID, ma'am?" the woman asked, and I nodded, pulling it out of my bag. I handed it to her and waited.

I was instructed to wait. I thanked her with a smile and walked over to a chair in the lobby. I sat down and started scrolling through my phone, trying to distract myself from the anxiety.

My thoughts, however, kept drifting back to the past, to the passing of my father and my mother's illness. After my father passed away, everything in my life changed. I was in high school at the time and went through so much. In the beginning, I felt alone and lost without my father, who always took care of me and my mom. But I tried to be strong for my mom, who began showing signs of her illness-her advanced cancer.

I was finishing my studies and working at night to pay for her medications. And now that I've finished school, I work in several places to pay our bills and her expensive medications.

I've suffered a lot and matured quickly by going through all of this. I would do anything for my mother; I want her to be well. That's why I need this job-so that I can buy the additional medications that have gone up in price and pay off some debts.

The challenges I've faced over the years, far from my family, made this moment even more crucial. I've distanced myself from my relatives; it's just me and my mom now.

Painful memories of sleepless nights caring for her, poorly paid temporary jobs, and the constant struggle to buy the medication she required to be invaded my mind. I knew that this interview was my chance to change our lives for the better. My mother would be so happy and proud of me.

Suddenly, I heard my name being called by a woman holding a clipboard. I stood up and looked at her. With quick steps, I made my way to the room, but suddenly, my phone rang just before I could enter.

At that moment, I felt strange-a weird sensation in my chest-a certain discomfort. I hesitated to answer, but something inside me made me decide to pick up my phone and take the call.

On the other end of the line, a woman identified herself as an attendant from Saint Francis Hospital.

"Miss Amy Anderson Singh? I'm calling from Saint Francis Hospital. Good morning. Your mother, Safira Singh, just arrived here by ambulance and is in critical condition. We need you to come to the hospital as soon as possible."

My heart tightened in my chest, just like it had seconds ago. My eyes filled with tears, and one of my hands clutched the collar of my blouse as I tried to take a deep breath.

"I'm on my way," I whispered, and I quickly left the company, running to the sidewalk.

Without a second thought, I abandoned the opportunity I had been so eager for and ran along the sidewalk, searching for a taxi. I spotted someone getting out of one just ahead, and I quickly got in, feeling my heart pounding in my throat.

"Please, go as fast as you can to Saint Francis Hospital."

The taxi driver simply nodded, seeing how agitated I was, and sped off. I looked out the windows, taking deep breaths, praying that my mom would be okay.

Upon arriving at the hospital, I rushed to the reception, showing my ID and explaining that my mother had just arrived by ambulance. The receptionist placed a visitor sticker on my blouse and asked me to follow her.

After walking through several corridors, we reached a room, and she told me to go inside. As I stepped in, I looked ahead and saw my mother lying in a coma on the hospital bed. The sight of her in that condition shattered my heart.

I heard footsteps behind me and turned around to see a doctor introducing himself, but I didn't catch his name-my concern was evident at that moment.

"How is my mother? What happened?" I asked, feeling tears starting to run down my cheeks.

The doctor explained that her condition had worsened alarmingly and that without immediate treatment, she wouldn't make it.

Desperate, I clung to the bed rails to keep them from collapsing, and the doctor stepped closer, concerned, but I told him I was fine.

But I wasn't. I was not okay.

The tears kept flowing as I closed my eyes, feeling utterly lost.

At that moment, I remembered all the hours I spent working part-time jobs to buy her medications, and how nothing ever seemed to be enough. Now, she was on the brink of death, and I felt powerless to help her.

What am I going to do now? How can I help her? I thought, shaking my head as more tears spilled down.

The doctor excused himself to talk to his superiors, leaving me alone with my mother.

I knelt beside her bed, staring at her as tears streamed down my face.

"Mom, I promise I'll help you. I'll do something, I swear," I whispered, my fingers touching hers, feeling the pain in my chest intensify.

I spent some time alone with my mom, lost in thought about what to do. At that moment, I didn't know. I had lost the interview earlier that day.

I sat at the edge of the bed, wiping my tears away, taking a deep breath, and looking at my mother's tired face.

After a few minutes, the doctor returned, closing the door behind him.

"Miss Amy, I have something to tell you..." He approached and continued, now standing close. "There is a chance to save your mother, but for that, you need to sign a confidentiality agreement. A very important person is willing to pay for your mother's treatment."

When he said that, my chest filled with joy. I was about to ask who this person was and what kind of contract it was when the doctor leaned closer.

"You cannot ask questions. You must either accept or decline. This is a unique opportunity, and you need to decide quickly."

I looked at the doctor, who was serious for a moment, then turned my gaze back to my mother.

Without hesitation, I accepted the offer.

"All right, I accept," I said firmly to him, and he nodded, giving me a slight smile.

"Great," the doctor said. I turned back to my mother and promised myself and her that everything would be okay. I would find a way to overcome this challenge because my love for my mother was stronger than any obstacle.

I lost my father in the past, in a brutal way, and now I would do anything not to lose my mother.

Michael McIntosh

It was early in the morning, and instead of drinking or smoking as I usually did, I was down in my club's basement, interrogating the bastard who had betrayed our pack. It was exactly seven in the morning.

What the hell, right? That son of a bitch.

I ran my fingers through my hair and took a deep breath, controlling myself as much as I could so I wouldn't kill this asshole. He had always been cold and arrogant, the kind who usually handled the dirty work.

And now he'd done this. Ruined everything, that piece of trash.

I straightened my blood-stained suit, unbuttoning my blazer as I wrapped my tie around my fist. I stepped closer to him, letting a smile, tinged with anger, spread across my lips.

Of course, I didn't want to dirty my hands with this bastard's blood, so I wrapped my tie tightly around my hand to keep punching him without hurting myself. My expression was stern, but my fangs were showing. I wanted to end him, but first, I needed information. As I got closer, the idiot looked at me, his face all battered.

My eyes were dilated with rage, my lips dry; I was holding back from growling and tearing the place apart. I needed information, and for that, I had to keep the traitor alive to make him spill everything he knew.

"You son of a bitch..." I shouted, landing a solid punch to his face, making his head snap to the side. He spat blood on the floor, then turned his face back to me, smirking.

This idiot thinks it's a joke? Why is this fool smiling?

I bit my lip, trying to keep my composure, but it was no use; it was stronger than me. I grabbed his arms tightly and spoke in a harsh voice.

"Who did you tell about the temple's location? ANSWER NOW," I demanded, my voice clear and threatening.

The temple was a sacred place where we gathered annually to discuss important pack matters. And now this idiot had done this-betrayed us, this piece of garbage.

He only tilted his head back to look at me better and kept that disgusting smile on his face, which I loathed.

"Well, you'll never find out, Michael. You can beat me up if you want," he said, starting to cough and spit blood again. His face was bruised and bloody, his mouth, cheek, and clothes stained.

Does this idiot want more of a beating? He won't tell me anything... Oh, he'll regret this, that's for sure.

He kept resisting, and my patience was wearing thin. I landed several more punches to his face, with enough force to feel the impact reverberate through my fists. His head snapped back violently, making him cough and spit even more blood on the floor.

I took a deep breath, feeling the adrenaline pumping, my blood boiling. I wanted to kill this bastard with my claws, my fangs. But I held back, closing my eyes.

I felt the sweat trickle down from my neck to my chest. Damn it, I'm this worked up because of this idiot. I opened my eyes, ready to continue the interrogation and punishments, when I heard a sound.

It was my cell phone.

I rolled my eyes and pulled my phone from my pocket. I looked at the screen, frowning, confused, and irritated. I hesitated to answer, but I figured it might be something important.

"Damn... Now?" I signaled to my subordinates to take the traitor out.

"Yes, sir," one of them said, dragging the idiot away.

I took a deep breath, tossing my blood-stained tie to the ground. I wiped the sweat from my forehead and sat down in a chair, crossing my legs as I did.

I lit a cigarette, took a drag, and answered the call.

"Hello, Mickey!" said a familiar voice on the other end.

So it was him calling... He must be calling from another device, that's gotta be it.

I took another drag from my cigarette, blowing the smoke into the air, and raised my voice with a half-smile.

"Corvo, what do you have for me?" I replied, keeping the conversation coded, as always.

"I found the key to the door you want to open. After all this time, she just appeared, my friend, like magic. Miss Amy Singh," Corvo said.

I uncrossed my legs and sat up straighter, narrowing my eyes in disbelief at his last sentence, but I remained silent, just thoughtful.

He found her? This is simply perfect-some good news, after all.

"I'm listening. How did you find her?" I asked, setting my cigarette aside, focused on his voice.

"Well, she's going through a tough time, desperate for money. Sick mother, late-stage cancer. She's willing to do anything. Got it?" A smile formed on my lips.

This is beyond perfect.

When he said her full name, my eyes widened. I kept smiling and took another drag from my cigarette. I couldn't believe he'd found her after all this time. If it was really her, this woman had been my enemy for years. And the fact that she appeared like this was perfect for me.

The pack has wanted her family out of the game for years. If I can take her family down, I'll be the alpha, I'll have the power I've always craved.

I let the smoke slip from my mouth and replied.

"I'll be her solution-she won't have any options, thanks to her desperation. I'll draft the contract right now. She'll be mine, she'll suffer at my hands. I want to see this woman with my own eyes. She won't refuse what I have to offer her. She'll have more than enough money to help her mother, though she won't have a clue what awaits her. And I... I'll get what I desire most. I'll take down her mother, her, and the rest of her family."

"Alright, Mickey, let me know when everything's ready so I can inform the lady," my friend said.

"Got it. I'll prepare everything. Thanks, Corvo. Later." I hung up, still a bit taken aback by the unexpected conversation.

I still couldn't believe it.

I flicked my cigarette away and stood up from the chair, calling my subordinates.

"What do you need, sir?" my loyal subordinate Alex asked.

"I want you to investigate the Anderson Singh family. I want to know where she and her mother live-everything, got it?" I looked at him seriously, and he just nodded and walked away.

I left the basement and headed up the stairs to the club floor, ready for a drink while I thought things over.

Amy Anderson Singh

The Next Day...

I woke up with my heart pounding. I'd spent almost the entire night awake, worried about what would happen to my mother. Every sound, every notification on my phone was a shock; I felt like someone from the hospital would call at any moment to tell me my mother had passed away. The night had been a true nightmare.

I sat up in bed, brushed my hair back behind my ear, took a deep breath, and picked up my phone, a bit apprehensive. When I looked at the screen, I felt relieved; to my happiness, the notification wasn't from the hospital but from the person who had promised to help me.

Reading the message with the address I needed to go to felt like a huge weight had been lifted from my chest, and I could finally breathe. I placed my hand on my chest, a small smile appearing. "We still have a chance, Mom," I whispered to myself, hoping somehow the words would reach her.

Anxious, I went to the bathroom to get ready. A part of me was still confused about everything, hesitant, but I had no other options, no more time. It was all or nothing.

Since that doctor had made the offer the previous day, I'd been wondering what it could be, why someone would want to pay for my mother's treatment in exchange for some "job." I imagined it might be organ trafficking, prostitution, or even drug dealing, but in the end, I came to the same conclusion: it didn't matter; her life was on the line. At that point, I couldn't back out-everything would be in vain otherwise.

I took a deep breath and looked at my reflection in the mirror, determined. No matter what it was, I was going to accept; I'd do anything to find a cure for my mother.

I did my hygiene routine, fixed my long hair, and put on the best dress I had in my wardrobe. I slipped on a low heel and applied a light gloss to my lips. I grabbed a bag and put my phone and wallet inside.

Trying not to get more anxious, I locked the house and went outside. I looked around to check the movement and saw a taxi just up ahead, grateful that the vehicle was there. I signaled to the driver, greeted him, and got in.

"Please take me to this address," I told him the location, and he nodded, buckling his seatbelt and starting the vehicle. I did the same, buckled up, and took a deep breath, looking at the already bustling streets.

As the car moved, I tried to relax my mind, hoping everything would turn out well. Minutes later, the car pulled up at the designated location, and when I looked out the window, I saw it was one of those old mansions-so grand and beautiful it looked like a castle.

I paid the driver and thanked him. When I looked back at the mansion, I felt a part of me growing restless, and another part, fearful. When I stepped out of the car, it was like a chill ran down my spine.

"I can't give up..." I reassured myself and made my way to the glamorous entrance.

To my surprise, everything was very well decorated, with rose vases, embroidered curtains, and even a red carpet. "A party?" I whispered, stepping inside until I found myself facing a woman in uniform and tall men who looked like security guards.

"Miss Amy?" She said my name with such confidence that I was certain I was in the right place.

"Yes, that's me." I confirmed, and immediately, she guided me upstairs. There were several staff members, all looking at me strangely, even scared.

Was I being hired as some kind of high-end escort? The thought crossed my mind, reinforced when they asked me to take a bath and put on a kind of white dress that looked like princess attire.

Several women escorted me to the bathroom, and not knowing what else to do, I just obeyed and took a quick shower. When I finished, I dried off quickly, and back in the room, the woman in uniform handed me a beautiful dress and helped me put it on.

At that moment, I didn't know what to do-should I ask something? In my mind, I kept thinking it was just a job I had to do... But when I saw myself in that dress, which looked more like a wedding dress, embroidered and delicate, my mouth fell open in surprise.

A few women entered and walked toward me, placing a bouquet of roses in my hands while one of them styled my hair in a glamorous updo and placed a tiara on top. My eyes widened, and something came to mind...

A wedding? This is definitely a wedding dress. I thought, a little stunned.

I almost lost my breath at the thought. A wedding? With a stranger? But before I could think of turning back and quitting, I remembered my mother and the reason I was there.

"Please, follow me, ma'am," one of the guards said.

I simply looked at him and began following, silent. In my head, I wondered if this was some rehearsal or something. I didn't want to believe this was an actual wedding. No... it can't be.

Looking down as I descended the stairs, I noticed a few people. Walking slowly, I observed these strangers, some older men in suits with scars on their faces, which made my mouth drop open in fright.

I tried to keep my head down, but I couldn't avoid the feeling of eyes on me. When I raised my face, I saw certain women giving me piercing looks.

"Calm down, Amy, just relax," I whispered, gripping the bouquet tighter, trying not to look around. I took a deep breath, following the guard, as soft music from musicians played-clearly, a party, no doubt about that.

What I couldn't stop thinking about was that when I stepped into that hall, I felt something strange, a hostile energy as if it wanted to repel me. I shook my head, thinking, 'No... this must just be in my head.'

Yet, as I walked down the aisle formed by the crowd, I felt that something very odd was happening. As I looked at their faces, I wondered, "Who are these people?"

I watched as the guard stepped aside, and a man approached me, his firm hand gripping my arm. I simply widened my eyes, looking at him as he stared at me seriously.

He was honestly the most handsome man I had ever seen in my life. Some strands of hair fell across his face, making him look even more mysterious, with a penetrating gaze that intimidated me.

Looking at him, I realized he was the man I'd be "working" for from that day forward. He didn't say anything, just started pulling me by the arm toward the altar.

I narrowed my eyes, trying to resist. Was this the kind of job I was looking for? Was I marrying this man? Is that what was happening?

"What's going on?" my voice came out weak as I tried to pull my arm away, but it was in vain.

The man then turned and gripped my arm tighter, his eyes almost piercing mine.

"Do you really want to save your mother, Amy?" I heard his deep voice as he leaned closer, studying me.

At that moment, all I could feel was my heart pounding. I tried to catch my breath and opened my mouth to respond.

"Yes, of course," I replied, and he raised an eyebrow, his eyes narrowing as he spoke.

"Then you'll do everything I tell you, including signing the marriage contract." When he said that, a half-smile appeared.

And, though I didn't want to admit it, this stranger stirred something in me that I couldn't understand...

In that moment, I was at a loss. I just lowered my head as he pulled me further, until I realized we were now at the altar, in front of everyone.