The words hit me like a sledgehammer, shattering the fragile facade of normalcy I had desperately clung to.

 "Hi, I’m Axel’s wife. He told me a lot about you! Friends from high school, yes?"

Her voice, honeyed yet laced with a subtle undertone of superiority, echoed through the ballroom, piercing the air and freezing me in place. Despite my best efforts to evade this inevitable confrontation, it seemed fate had woven our paths together, binding me to a moment of reckoning I had long dreaded.

I met her gaze, feeling the weight of her presence like an oppressive force. She was an alpha, exuding confidence and poise, her very aura commanding attention. Long, lustrous locks of midnight-black hair cascaded down her shoulders like a silken waterfall, catching the light of the chandeliers and casting an ethereal glow upon her elegant figure. Her eyes, a mesmerizing shade of golden amber, held a depth and allure that seemed to draw me in, captivating me with their enigmatic brilliance. In her presence, I felt small, insignificant—a mere omega in the presence of an alpha queen.

Forced to maintain composure, I summoned a smile, though it felt hollow upon my lips.

 "Yes, I am Axel’s friend, Kairos," I replied, my voice betraying none of the turmoil raging within.

 "It's nice to meet you. We also attended the same university."

The words tasted bitter, a bitter acknowledgment of the life I had once envisioned crumbling before my very eyes. But I pressed on, offering my congratulations to the newlyweds, though each word felt like a dagger twisting in my heart.

She acknowledged my words with a polite nod before excusing herself to greet other guests, leaving me standing there, a solitary figure amidst the sea of revelry. Turning to Axel, I found myself met with cold, distant eyes—eyes that once held warmth and affection now glinting with an unfamiliar hardness. He told me to follow him as he took me out on the balcony.

"Why are you here?" His words cut through the silence like a knife, his tone betraying none of the turmoil I knew lay beneath the surface.

The question hung in the air, heavy with unspoken truths and painful revelations. "You're asking me what I'm doing here?" I retorted, my voice trembling with suppressed emotion.

 "Who invited you?" he pressed, his voice devoid of warmth or empathy.

I scoffed, the bitterness rising within me like bile. "Does it matter, Axel? When were you going to tell me that you're married?"

Silence stretched between us, punctuated only by the faint rustle of the evening breeze. And then, finally, he spoke his words like a death knell tolling the demise of our love. "Kairos, I can't marry you," he confessed, his voice heavy with resignation. "I am third in line for my father's company. My brothers are way ahead of me. I can't beat them in anything, but if I marry Princess Viviana and gain connections to the royal family, that will boost my position in the company... in my father's eyes. I'm sorry... I still love you, but you don't even have a background, and you're an omega. I could never introduce you to my family."

His words struck me like a physical blow, the pain radiating through every fiber of my being. Tears welled in my eyes, hot and unbidden, as I struggled to comprehend the magnitude of his betrayal. "I thought... I thought we had something real," I whispered, my voice barely a breathless echo in the stillness of the night.

But he offered no solace, no reassurance—only silence and the cold, harsh reality of our shattered dreams. And so, with a heavy heart, I turned away, leaving behind the shattered remnants of a love that had once promised eternity. He walked passed me and disappeared into the festivities.

Alone on the balcony, bathed in the soft glow of the moonlight, I let the tears fall freely, mourning the loss of a love that had consumed me whole. What should I do now? Where could I turn? I had invested everything in him, staked my very future on the fragile hope of a love that now lay in ruins at my feet.

Lost in my grief, I scarcely noticed the arrival of another figure—a figure in a wheelchair, his presence commanding attention even in the depths of my despair. He moved with an effortless grace, his eyes a fiery crimson that seemed to pierce through the darkness, illuminating the shadows with their otherworldly brilliance.

"Sorry, didn't know anyone was out here," he offered, his voice soft yet tinged with a hint of curiosity.

I glanced up, meeting his gaze, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. His eyes softened as he took in my tear-stained face, a fleeting expression of concern flickering across his features before vanishing into the depths of his enigmatic gaze. Without a word, he offered me a handkerchief, and I accepted it with trembling hands, the brief touch sending a jolt of electricity coursing through my veins.

As he turned to leave, I watched him go, a sense of longing stirring within me—a yearning for something I couldn't quite name. And then, with a sigh, I gathered my resolve and returned to the ballroom, where the festivities continued unabated, oblivious to the turmoil raging within my heart.

Exiting the castle, I was met with the cool night air, a welcome respite from the suffocating atmosphere of the ballroom. A car awaited me, its sleek exterior gleaming in the moonlight, and as I approached, the chauffeur stepped out, her demeanor cold and professional.

"Goodnight, sir," she said, her voice devoid of warmth. "The madam said to relay this message to you: 'Are you done playing? If so, get in the car. I am done waiting.'"

Her words sent a shiver down my spine, a stark reminder of the world I now found myself re-entering —a world of secrets and betrayals, where even the shadows held whispers of hidden motives. With a heavy heart, I climbed into the car; the door closing behind me with a resounding thud.

As the car pulled away, leaving the castle behind, I stole one last glance at the place where my dreams had died—a monument to the love that had once burned bright but now lay extinguished, nothing more than ashes scattered on the winds of fate.

Unbeknownst to me, I had caught the attention of a tiger—a predator lurking in the shadows, its gaze fixed upon its unsuspecting prey. And though I knew not what the future held, one thing was certain: the path before me stretched into the unknown, fraught with peril and possibility alike.

The month passed in a haze of whispered rumors and silent contemplation. Despite the absence of any word from Axel, the specter of his betrayal loomed large in my mind, a constant reminder of shattered dreams and broken promises. Each passing day brought fresh reports of Axel's wedding to the princess, their union celebrated in the pages of glossy magazines and the flickering glow of television screens. To some, it was a fairy tale come to life, a union of love and power; to others, it was a calculated move, a bid for influence and control.

But amidst the clamor of society's chatter, I found refuge in the quiet confines of my room. The night of the grand party, however, brought an unwelcome interruption—a summons from my mother. A driver arrived to ferry me away, and I reluctantly obeyed, my heart heavy with apprehension as I stepped into the opulent family room.

My mother sat at the head of the room, her features set in a mask of stern determination as she pored over a stack of documents. She looked up as I entered, her gaze piercing and unwavering.

"Sit," she commanded, gesturing to a nearby chair.

I complied, settling into the seat with a sense of unease gnawing at my insides. My mother's silence was deafening, and her attention focused entirely on the papers before her.

"So, did you enjoy your little taste of freedom?" she finally spoke, her voice cutting through the silence like a knife.

I shifted uncomfortably, unable to meet her gaze. The question hung in the air, heavy with accusation and disappointment.

"I hope you savored your fleeting fairytale," my mother continued, her tone tinged with bitterness. "

She then chuckled , “I remembered us making a bet, and now that you've lost. Do you have anything to say for yourself?”

I stayed silent, and then she continued again, “Well its great that you're back. It's been what? 10 years? 10 years since you've left your role behind to follow a piece of shit alpha like the god damn omega you are.”

I remained silent, my throat constricted with emotion. I knew I had failed, that my brief respite from the world of my birthright had come crashing down around me.

"It's time for you to remember who you are, Who I grew you to be" my mother declared, her voice cold and commanding. "To take up your role as the Duke of the underworld."

The words hit me like a physical blow, the weight of my legacy pressing down on me like a suffocating blanket. Memories flooded my mind, of a childhood spent in the shadow of my family's power and influence, of the expectations and obligations that had always loomed over me.

My mother's voice brought me back to the present, her words a harsh reminder of the responsibilities that awaited me. "You've gone too soft," she said, her tone laced with disappointment. "You need training. We can't afford any more mistakes."

As if on cue, a servant entered the room, summoned by my mother's command. I recognized her as the chauffeur who had brought me here, her expression impassive as she awaited further instructions.

"Take Kairos to his room," my mother ordered, her tone final as she returned her attention to her work.

The servant nodded, gesturing for me to follow her. I rose from my seat, a sense of resignation settling over me like a heavy cloak. The walk to my room was a blur, the familiar halls of my childhood home, a maze of memories and regrets.

Finally, we arrived at my door, and I entered without a word. My room was as I remembered it—cold and austere, devoid of any personal touches or comforts. I collapsed onto the bed, the events of the evening weighing heavily on my mind.

As I drifted into an uneasy sleep, I couldn't shake the feeling of impending doom that hung over me like a dark cloud. The past had caught up with me, and I knew that I could no longer outrun the responsibilities that awaited me. With a heavy heart, I surrendered to the embrace of sleep, knowing that tomorrow would bring a reckoning with my past—and an uncertain future that awaited me in the world beyond my room.

As I stirred from my slumber, a soft voice gently roused me back to consciousness. It belonged to Jenny, the maid who had been attending to me ever since my return to the mansion. Jenny was a curious mix of clumsiness and youthful exuberance, leaving me to wonder how she managed to secure a position here. In this household, employment was typically reserved for betas or omegas with limited options, individuals who had little choice but to remain loyal to the family in order to survive. Many of them had endured hardships at the lowest rungs of society – some were former thieves, others had been caught up in corruption scandals in their former business, and a few had even resorted to begging for sustenance. However, under the former duke's tutelage, they were granted a basic education in etiquette befitting a noble household. Those who demonstrated literacy were assigned to more specialized roles. These kinds of people were chosen because they had no choice but to stay and had no connections outside of the mansion. Getting rid of them would be all too easy.

During their training, they were subtly indoctrinated into a culture of unwavering loyalty and servitude, instilled with a deep-seated fear of betraying the family, knowing all too well the dire consequences that awaited any who dared to cross them. Over time, this environment molded them into cold, emotionless drones, their individuality gradually eroded by the weight of their obligations. Jenny, however, seemed to defy this pattern. Perhaps she was still in the early stages of her indoctrination, her spirit not yet fully subdued by the demands of her role. I couldn't help but feel a twinge of nostalgia at the thought of her inevitable transformation, knowing that her current demeanor would soon be lost to the rigidity of her training.

Jenny glided over to the expansive windows, parting the curtains to allow a flood of sunlight to pour into the room. As the golden rays illuminated the space, I slowly roused from my slumber, blinking away the remnants of sleep. Jenny, ever cheerful and eager, turned towards me with a bright smile.

"Young master! Oh, wonderful! You're up," she exclaimed, her voice filled with delight. "It's such a lovely day today. The weatherman says we'll have this sunny weather for the whole week. Isn't that great?"

I offered her a slight smile in return, knowing all too well the ulterior motives behind my mother's facade of concern. She yearned for me to shake off my despondency, to resume my place in the family's affairs, and to further her ambitious plans.

Pushing aside the lingering tendrils of sleep, I swung my legs over the edge of the bed as Jenny glided to the door, deftly retrieving the breakfast tray from another maid waiting outside. With practiced precision, she placed the tray before me, her movements a little clumsy but fluid and efficient.

"If you would excuse me, master," Jenny began, her demeanor shifting as she reached for a piece of each dish on the tray. It was a routine precaution – tasting for poison, a grim necessity in the precarious world we inhabited. Though I had initially protested, Jenny's insistence and the threat of punishment compelled me to relent.

"Everything's very good today," she declared after sampling each item, her animated gestures betraying her genuine enthusiasm. "I should tell Mr. Boston that it's good. I know you will love this, so just try it."

I couldn't help but chuckle at her remark, a glimmer of amusement flickering in my eyes. "You know, Jenny, sometimes I think you take this particular job just so you could taste my food."

Her laughter filled the room, a melodic sound that momentarily lifted the weight of my worries. Meanwhile, the breakfast spread before me beckoned with enticing aromas and vibrant colors, a testament to Mr. Boston's culinary prowess.

Scrambled eggs, infused with fragrant herbs and adorned with sprigs of fresh parsley, sat alongside a slice of smoked salmon, its succulent flesh gleaming temptingly. Nestled amidst this culinary bounty was a perfectly ripe avocado, a verdant jewel amidst a sea of flavors.

Despite my lingering reluctance, I found myself slowly regaining my appetite, savoring each morsel with renewed relish. Jenny watched me with a contented smile, her gaze filled with genuine warmth.

"Please tell Mr. Boston that I too was happy with this meal," I said, acknowledging the effort that had gone into its preparation.

"That's good to hear," Jenny replied, her smile widening. "I'm sure he will be happy that you finished today's meal. He's been trying really hard to make something that you'd like to eat."

With a final nod of gratitude, Jenny whisked the tray away, leaving me to bask in the warmth of the morning sunlight filtering through the windows. As I lingered over the remnants of my breakfast, a sense of calm settled over me, temporarily banishing the shadows that had clouded my thoughts.

After completing my morning ablutions, I emerged from the bathroom to find Jenny waiting with a crisp white dress shirt and sleek black pants, neatly laid out for me. With practiced ease, she helped me into the attire, her hands deftly fastening buttons and adjusting collars.

"Master, I'm so happy that you're leaving your room today," Jenny exclaimed, her enthusiasm palpable. "I have been meaning to tell you this, but Madam did ask to have lunch with you at noon today." She paused, her words tumbling out in a torrent of excitement. "I wanted to tell you as soon as possible, but then you began eating and you looked happier, and now you're going out, so I had to tell you just in case."

Her cheerful demeanor faltered slightly as she noted the subtle shift in my mood. I knew that my mother's summons was inevitable.

"Okay," I replied, my voice tinged with resignation. "Before heading out the door."

I then left Jenny to tidy my room.

As I stepped outside, two men in black suits greeted me with a respectful bow. "Good morning, young master," they chimed in unison. The blush, apparent on the younger one’s face.

Returning their gesture with a slight nod, I began my walk, feeling their presence trailing closely behind me. The weight of their security detail was suffocating, their overpowering pheromones filling the air with a sickening stench. I detested their presence, a constant reminder of my mother's insistence on subjecting me to their company under the guise of building tolerance for alpha pheromones.

With a heavy sigh, I continued my stroll, meandering through the familiar corridors of the mansion. The maids and butlers I passed offered polite bows, their faces a blur of anonymity. Some were new faces, their presence serving as a stark reminder of the passage of time and the inevitable changes that had occurred during my absence. Whether it's due to dying by betraying the family or dying as innocent bystanders in family dealings, a few servants had gone over the past decade, their fates of little consequence to me.

Eventually, I found myself descending into the basement of the mansion, drawn to the familiar solace of the shooting gallery. Here, amidst the cool confines of the underground chamber, I had once found refuge in honing my marksmanship skills. In the absence of Axel, who had become my anchor in times of distress, this place had served as my sanctuary, a sanctuary I had sorely missed.

Memories of days spent with Axel flooded my mind, each recollection accompanied by a pang of longing. His calming presence had eased my anxiety, and calmed my murderous spirit, his pheromones a balm to my troubled soul. With a deep breath, I pushed aside the ache in my heart, focusing instead on the task at hand.

I approached the person in charge of handling the guns. He was an elderly man with silver hair, he would’ve been a striking figure in his youth. Despite being an omega, he was once an elite member of the guard team until his fated alpha passed away. The bond between an omega and their fated alpha runs deep, connecting them on a level beyond mere physicality. When his alpha died on a mission, I was there with him, barely comprehending the weight of his grief at such a young age. 

"Kairos, is that you? I heard you were back. I'm so happy," he exclaimed, tears brimming in his eyes.

"I'm so sorry, Kairos If I hadn’t given you that advice back then… then…maybe..." he trailed off, guilt appearing to be gnawing at him.

I smiled at him, then said, "Kaiden I've learned and grown so much during my time away. I’ve learned many things that this mansion couldn’t offer me."

He nodded, wiping away a stray tear. " My son…he's been asking about you. He's doing great, you know, ever since he joined the company."

The mention of Alexander sent a pang of nostalgia through me. We had been inseparable once, but things changed, and our friendship drifted apart due to an incident.

 " Could you pass me the Wilson Combat EDC X9?" I continued not wanting to talk about him.

Kaiden's smile widened at my request. "You still know your guns."

I nodded a hint of solemnity in my tone. "I never forgot them. I just had to learn how to live without them."

I made my way to the shooting spot, tucked away in a glass booth. As I entered, I donned the ear muffs hanging nearby, blocking out the noise around me. Amongst the other shooters present, some stole glances at me, their cheeks flushing pink before returning to their practice. 

Raising the gun, I assumed the correct posture and aimed. The first shot missed the bullseye by a hair's breadth. I took a breath, refocused, and fired again, this time hitting dead center. It was a skill ingrained in me since childhood, a legacy of the Machiano family. With each shot, the rush of excitement coursed through me, akin to a surge of dopamine.

As the morning wore on, I found myself lost in the rhythm of shooting and reloading, each shot a fleeting respite from the weight of my thoughts. It wasn't until Jenny's touch jolted me back to reality that I realized how much time had passed. Startled, I turned, my hand still clutching the gun, only to meet her concerned gaze.

Lost in my practice, I didn't notice someone approaching until an arm touched my shoulder. Instinctively, I turned, gun raised, before snapping back to reality at Jenny's voice.

"Young master?"

I quickly lowered the gun, handing it off to one of the surprised bodyguards nearby. They stood frozen, not expecting such a reaction from me, given my recent reclusive behavior.

"Sorry, Jenny," I said, my voice devoid of emotion. "Is there a reason you're here?"

She smiled warmly, unfazed by my momentary lapse. "Remember, young master, you have lunch with the Madame at noon. She doesn't like to wait. And look, you're all sweaty. Let's get you cleaned up and then off to see the Madame."

I nodded, turning towards the exit. The bodyguards and Jenny fell into step behind me as we made our way back to the mansion.

After freshening up and changing into a clean attire, I headed towards the family's greenhouse, an ethereal structure made entirely of crystal glass. Spring had brought the garden to life, with roses, chrysanthemums, and a myriad of other flowers blooming in vibrant hues. Their sweet fragrance filled the air, mingling with the scent of lush greenery.

At the heart of the garden, I found my mother seated, her gaze distant, lost in thought. It was a familiar sight, a look that often hinted that she thought of memories of a happier time, a time before everything changed. 

"Good afternoon, mother," I greeted as I approached.

She motioned for me to sit, and I complied, taking my place opposite her. A tray of sumptuous food awaited us, served by Grace, her expression as cold and stoic as ever. Among the offerings was a classic dish of creamy mashed potatoes topped with gravy and a perfectly cooked medium-rare steak.

As etiquette dictated, I waited for my mother to begin eating before taking a single bite. But instead of indulging in the feast before her, she fixed her gaze on me, as if searching for something deep within my soul.

"I see your bodyguards are still breathing," she remarked, a smirk playing on her lips. "If it were ten years ago, one of them would be dead. Especially that one there who has been blushing at the sight of you even now. You've truly changed."

Her words, laced with a reminder of the ruthless nature that lay beneath her composed exterior. Beneath her breath, she muttered something about an "If it wasn’t for that damned Alpha bastard."

With impeccable grace, she picked up her utensils and began to eat. Following suit, I started on my meal, though the tension in the air was palpable.

"It's been weeks since you've been confined to your quarters," she continued, her tone stern. "But you can't hide away forever. The Machiano Group needs a leader, someone ruthless enough to navigate the treacherous waters of royal politics. The board is growing restless, and the royal family seeks to exploit our weaknesses. Before you left here you were perfect. Everything I grew you to be. You would’ve been a fine Machino Leader but to do that we need to kill out the weakness inside you"

Pausing momentarily, she turned her attention to Grace. "Fetch what I asked for," she instructed.

Under one of the covered dishes, a gun lay concealed. My mother's smile was chilling as she spoke. "I want you to take this gun and eliminate everyone here. Your bodyguards, Grace, and your maid. Your first lesson is to learn that human lives are nothing but steps toward your goal. You must be ready to kill when you need to even if they're someone close to you."

Jenny's reaction, unlike the others who at first were a bit surprised but resigned immediately to their fate,  was unexpected. Instead of fear, she wore a subtle smile, an unsettling calmness in her demeanor. 

I stared at the gun in disbelief, I hadn’t killed someone in a while though this was not the reason I hesitated nor was it the fact that I was scared to do it but the fact that I was asking myself if I really wanted to return to being the person I was before I left her. My love for Axel made me want to be the soft, feminine omega he wanted but since he betrayed me. I can easily give that up. In the end, I stood, aiming the gun at Jenny, resigning myself to a fate I could no longer escape. Jenny still smiled innocently.

Nausea swept over me as I squeezed the trigger, the deafening bang echoing through the room as darkness consumed my vision.