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Chapter 25
Zephyr
Therehadbeenanother murder, and this time, Alpha’s hair had been found at the crime scene.
Zephyr stared in stunned surprise as she looked toward her husband in the car, getting updated about what she’d missed since she’d stopped going to his office.
They were on their way to one of Alpha’s clubs in the city, her old request to meet some of his girls something he was finally fulfilling.
She didn’t know if her withdrawal had truly affected him so much, or if he’d genuinely missed her, or if it was just the fact that she’d become a convenient companion, whatever it was, he was trying. Physically, emotionally, he was trying and that meant everything to her. He still wasn't the most talkative, but he’d spent their last few days truly wanting to connect with her. He'd quizzed her about their pasts, told him about the aftermath of his injury and consequent recovery, let her see him the way he hadn't before, and she appreciated that. Eating meals with her, watching shows before taking her to bed, and eating her out had become some of his favorite things. She knew he was taking time away from his busy schedule to give her, and that more than anything made her feel cherished.
Some nights, he used his fingers or her toy and brought her pleasure she couldn’t even grapple with. Some nights, it was his tongue and teeth. But he pleasured her and then held her until they slept, not trying to find his own release with her. She didn’t know if it was because she’d left after the last time he had done that, or if it was something else, but he was trying to let her in and she saw that. Still, she remained a bit wary, her heart still not entirely healed from being rebuffed over and over again.
And she missed having him inside her, but he kept himself completely away. She didn’t know why. But she loved the other parts that had come with Alpha 3.0, as she was referring to this new phase of him. Earlier, she’d talked and he’d listened, occasionally responding. Now, she talked, he engaged a bit, encouraged her to talk more. He still stayed in his grumpy mode around people, but privately, he began to ease off, letting her see another side of him he’d been holding on to before.
“First semen, now hair,” Hector said from up front where he was driving, Victor on the passenger’s side. “This has gone overboard.”
Zephyr watched her husband looking out the window, lost in thought, and she bit her lip, fear invading the happy bubble she’d made for herself in the last week. A serial killer in the city framed her husband in ways that were severely implicating—and the fact that they were clueless about him. Was it someone wanting Alpha's power or someone from his past? And if it was someone from his past, did Alpha even remember him? Oh god. Her eyes flew to the scar on his face.
“Your scar,” she said out loud. He turned his face to the side to see her, moving his neck entirely since she sat in the periphery of his eye patch and out of his line of sight.
“What?” he asked, the left side of his face serious.
“Could this killer…” she trailed off and shut her mouth, realizing that the brothers upfront might not know about the fact that he didn’t remember anything. She swallowed. “Later.”
He considered her, before giving her a brief nod.
“We’re here,” Victor announced, and she looked out, focusing on the present.
They were in the industrial district. More precisely, they were in the same parking lot where she’d come to see him fight weeks ago in the larger arena.
Alpha got out of the car and came to her side, picking her up by the hips and putting her down, even though she wore jeans and not a dress. She realized he enjoyed doing that, helping her out and in the car with his strength, making her feel smaller and safer next to him.
“Thanks,” she gave him a smile and saw the way his eye lingered on her dimple.
Putting his large hand on the small of her waist, he led her to the warehouse where the fight had been. That night, with her nerves and emotional turmoil, she’d not noticed the building beside the warehouse. There was nothing indicating it was anything but a random building, nothing except a neon sign on the door that read ‘Club 69’.
How original.
Zephyr rolled her eyes at the sign and entered behind Hector who led from the front, Victor following them at the back, gasping as the interior came into view.
Whatever she had imagined an underworld club must have looked like, it definitely had been nothing remotely close to this. The entire warehouse had been converted into a classy nightclub straight out of some 80s mafia movie. The open area had wooden flooring, the long bar at the end was polished and stacked, comfortable seating areas lined both sides of the central dance floor. A set of stairs led to what she assumed was the glass-ensconced VIP area on both sides. The whole space was done in classy browns and reds, and she shouldn’t have been surprised. From what she’d seen of her husband’s interior design tastes, he enjoyed extravagant surroundings.
During the day, it was mostly empty, with a few women sitting at the bar talking.
Zephyr recognized Jasmine right off the bat.
The other girl turned to look at them and gave Zephyr a smile. “Well, look who it is. Mr. and Mrs. Villanova in the house!”
She wasn’t going to lie, it gave her the best thrill to hear that.
The other ladies sitting with Jasmine—two of them—turned to look at her curiously. Another girl sat off to one side, and Zephyr watched as Hector made his way to her.
“Taking a tour?” Jasmine asked, her pretty face tattooed with beautiful roses over her jaw.
Zephyr nodded. “I wanted to meet… the girls.”
Jasmine’s eyebrow hit her hairline before she shook her head. “They’re not all here. That’s Irina and Katelin. Come, I’ll introduce you.”
