acting normal

Aiden Roque is the heir and acting underboss of the Roque Syndicate. He is a dominant Alpha, known for his confidence and sharp mind. He handles meetings, plans, and decisions for the family. Many people say he is spoiled, but no one questions his authority.

Luzian Vale is the head of the Vale Syndicate. He is an Enigma, feared and respected across the underworld. He speaks little, but when he does, people listen. His control and power keep the mafia world in balance.

.

.

Aiden walks into the meeting room like he owns it.

His shoulders are straight. His steps are confident. The men around the table fall silent the moment he arrives. This is normal. This is how it has always been.

“Start,” he says, sitting at the head of the table.

Reports move quickly. Shipments. Territory. Numbers. His mind stays sharp, cutting through problems with ease. He gives orders, and they are written down without question.

This is who he is.

But halfway through the meeting, something feels wrong.

Not pain. Not fear.

Just… off.

His stomach tightens for no clear reason. A strange warmth settles low in his body, slow and heavy. He ignores it, keeps talking, keeps his voice firm.

No one notices.

Good.

When the meeting ends, he stands too fast. The room tilts for half a second. He grips the chair until it passes, jaw tight with irritation.

“Get some rest,” one of the men says carefully.

Aiden shoots him a look. “I’m fine.”

The man nods and backs away.

Later, alone in his office, Aiden loosens his collar and exhales. His reflection in the glass looks the same — sharp eyes, confident expression — but something underneath feels quieter than before.

His Alpha presence doesn’t push the air the way it used to.

That thought makes his chest tighten.

He shakes his head. “Stop,” he mutters. “You’re overthinking.”

He skips lunch. The smell of food turns his stomach, and that alone annoys him more than it should. He downs water instead, forcing himself to focus on paperwork.

Still, his senses feel strange.

Scents linger too long.

Noise feels sharper.

And his body reacts slowly when challenged — not weak, just… different.

That evening, he meets Noah again.

Noah studies him carefully this time, eyes narrowing just a little. “You’re quieter today.”

“Busy,” Aiden answers.

Noah doesn’t smile. “You sure that’s all?”

Aiden shrugs. “I’m normal.”

Noah sighs softly. “You keep saying that like you’re trying to convince yourself.”

Aiden looks away, fingers tightening around his glass. He doesn’t reply. He doesn’t trust his voice to stay steady.

When night comes, sleep doesn’t.

Aiden lies awake, staring at the ceiling. His body feels heavy, warm in an unfamiliar way. His instincts are restless but unfocused, like they’re waiting for something he refuses to name.

Somewhere deep inside him, something is changing.

And no matter how hard he pretends otherwise,

his body already knows.

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