Alexander watched her for months ever since that day. To her, he was a man that she had just met a few days ago in the club, but the truth was that he had been watching her. Alexander had seen her in the hospital, which he later found out that her sick sister was admitted in. He had gotten stabbed and could not wait for the pack's doctor to get to the hideout. His shoulder had been bleeding profusely as he clung unto it, trying to reduce the flow of blood.
"Andre, over here," a voice said. Alexander turned around. It was his brother. He had gone to find a doctor who would not just attend to Alexander but make sure to keep his or her mouth shut about it. And apparently, all it took was a few thousands to have that doctor in that cheap hospital to comply. As Alexander walked behind his younger brother, toward the doctor's office, he continued to look back in her direction.
What was he feeling? He did not know how to describe it. Why was he feeling that way? He did not know either. As his skin was getting stitched, he did not groan or make any sound that showed pain. That was something most people from his pack, but to him, it was a curse, not being able to feel pain. Other members of his family, including his brother, had the other gift that was normal, healing.
They never needed to go to a hospital or visit the clinic. If they ever got shot or injured, it would heal on its own in a matter of seconds. But on the other hand was Alexander, he could be bleeding his organs out and would just not feel the pain. That made him be trained differently from the others. He needed more strength if he was going to defend himself. And it was that same trait that made his father hate him so much.
The gift was only present in one out of ten generations, and Alexander was the lucky one as his father always thought. His other gifts were to be unlocked only when he met his mate. As the feeling of the beautiful girl from earlier tugged at his chest, the realization stung him like a bee, "my mate," he said. He then explained to his brother that his mate was somewhere within the walls of the hospital.
They ordered their men to find her and were then informed of her departure. He tracked her down through her sick sister down to the club. He had a meeting with the family and insisted that the location was moved to that club. He had expected to see her as a waitress at least and was completely enraged when he saw her on stage. Her body scantily clad in the most inappropriate outfit if he called it one.
He had tried to control his emotions as he clenched and unclenchedchis fist, but he lost control when she came to him, moving her body like a fucking seductive demon who wanted to lure his soul. He was angry about what she was doing to earn a living, most of all, angry at himself for not finding her sooner. He decided that it was best to walk away than take her on that table, in front of all those men who hungrily eyes her body.
He felt like plucking their eyes out with his special knife, and making sure that the last thing they saw was his sinister eyes that carried no emotion. He was definitely going to punish her, for letting those men ogle at her body like that. When Angelo informed him about her being in the class just as they predicted, he felt a surge of pride that she still took her academics seriously regardless of the number of men who would try to lure her with money.
"We want to buy this club," Alexander said to the owner, whom they called Big Pa. He laughed at Andre's statement and took a puff of his Cuban cigar, "I do not remember putting up a for sale sign," he said nonchalantly. Alexander looked over at Angelo, who at the snap of his fingers, had their men come in with briefcases, they had gold, diamond, American dollars, British pounds, and even cocaine. They were ready to pay in whatever currency he wanted.
"We have various payment methods, all of these including an offshore account that currently has more than enough to buy your place. Name your price," Angelo said. Alexander had never been a man of too many words, he preferred straight and direct, which was why he had Angelo act like the face of the mafia, meanwhile he was the one behind the mask. If only he could do that with his pack as well, he would think to himself sometimes.
After what felt like an eternity, Alexander motioned for his brother for a side talk. "Let us go," Alexander said, "but-" Angelo tried to protest. Alexander gave him a knowing look, one that told Angelo that Alexander had a plan, one that did not involve hours of fruitless bargaining. Angelo nodded in understanding and signaled to their men to walk away with the briefcases.
Alexander then walked over to who they assumed to be the manager since she was the one taking the bookings and cash from the men. They cut in front of the line, with no one daring to say a word, "I need Bella," Alexander said. "Hmm, Bella, huh? For how long? Thirty minutes? An hour?" She asked. He felt his anger growing again at how his mate was being priced like a commodity. "A month," he said. The lady laughed loudly, and so did some other men who were still in line waiting.
When the men came with briefcases, she realised that Alexander was not joking around. Angelo turned her book around to see the rates, "two hundred dollars an hour? With these, that is well over three months, but that is fine, we do not mind paying three times the price," Alexander said. Everywhere had become silent, with only one question on the minds of everyone who was present… "Who was this man?"