Romancing the Alpha

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Romancing the Alpha Page 17

by Alicia Montgomery


  “What?” Grayson’s eyes widened in surprise. “I mean, Lord Stefan, I thought that was the plan?”

  “It was, but we cannot wait any longer, and we must accelerate our plan,” Stefan stated.

  “But how?”

  “Kill the Grant Anderson. Or kill them both, I don’t care, as long as Grant Anderson is dead.”

  Grayson frowned. “But the plan was to scare Grant! I already lent you some of my clan members as guinea pigs so you could make potions that would work on Lycans! And then, after he realizes that he needed an alliance with us, we would offer Vanessa, make sure she got pregnant, and then kill him once we’ve secured his heir.”

  “And how long would that have taken, seeing as she hasn’t even drawn him into her bed?” Stefan’s cold, steely eyes bore into him.

  “But, but…”

  “Grayson, I suggest you choose your next words carefully,” Daric said. “But, like I said, the plan isn’t lost yet. You want the New York territory. That was the plan, right? Turning Grant’s heir into your ward, and then control the territory from within?”

  Grayson nodded.

  “Well, we can just skip over the whole heir part. Kill Grant Anderson, and once the New York clan is thrown into chaos, we will pick them off one by one, starting from his heir presumptive, his sister, then the Beta and both their mates. New York will be vulnerable and you can take over.”

  “I can’t kill all of them, I don’t have that kind of resources,” Grayson said. “They are still well-protected and if the Council found out I killed them, they will act swiftly.”

  “We have magic, Grayson, powerful magic,” Daric explained. “With us behind you, working in the shadows, suspicion will never fall to you or your clan. The High Council already knows about us, and they will just see it as another attack by the mages.”

  “Hmmm. I suppose I could petition the High Council to appoint me temporarily as steward of New York,” Grayson said thoughtfully. “And the New Jersey Alpha?”

  “We will take her as…payment for our services. Draw her in, but don’t kill her yet,” Daric said. “We will take care of her.”

  “Fine. It will be my pleasure to kill Grant Anderson,” Grayson said with relish. “I’ll take my leave Lord Stefan, and put our plan into action.” With that, the Lycan left.

  Once he was gone, Stefan turned to Daric. “What are you thinking, my protégé?”

  “It was a good plan,” Daric said. “It would have bought us more time to turn more witches into mages, while destroying the strongest Lycan clan from within.”

  “And once we gain control of the clan and strengthened our forces, it would have been easy enough to kill Grayson and then the heir,” Stefan said. “But now?”

  “A minor setback. Grayson will get rid of Grant Anderson for us, and even if he doesn’t take control of New York, losing their Alpha would weaken them and create a vacuum of power,” Daric added.

  “You forget one thing, Daric,” Stefan raised a brow at his protégé. “How can we take control of New York without Ms. Bennet bearing his pup?”

  “Well, we might not need Ms. Bennet to secure Grant’s heir at all.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Grant went back to work the day after arriving from Italy. He had a lot of catching up to do, and a slew of meetings to attend. He told Jared to hold all his calls, except important ones, and got to work. It was around noon when he felt the familiar buzz in his pocket.

  He checked the caller ID and frowned, not recognizing the number. “Hello?” he answered.

  “Grant! It’s Enzo,” the voice on the other line said. “Listen, sorry for bothering you, man, but you gotta come to Jersey!”

  The Alpha shot to his feet. A growl escaped from deep in his chest, and his blood went cold. “What’s wrong? Is it Frankie?”

  “Yes,” Enzo confirmed. “She’s been hurt. Someone set fire to Muccino’s and locked her inside.”

  The growl turned into an angry snarl. Must…protect…mine…ours…

  “I’m on my way.” Grant took a deep breath, taking control of his wolf. “Thank you for letting me know, I’ll call you back.”

  Leaving his office, he barked an order to Jared to get his driver and car ready, and called Nick on the phone. He explained to his Beta what had happened and where he was going.

  The 45-minute drive to Jersey felt like the longest in his life. His inner wolf was screaming to get out, get revenge on the people who tried to hurt Frankie. Tate Miller was nervous, probably feeling the anxiety and anger coming off his Alpha in waves, and he drove as fast as he could to Barnsville. Grant practically leaped out of the car, making a mad dash to the house as soon as the car stopped.

  Dante had probably heard his approach, as he was already opening the door by the time Grant was walking up the front steps.

  “She’s alright,” Dante assured him. “Enzo told me he called you.”

  Grant nodded. “He did, and I’m glad.”

  “She doesn’t know that you’re coming,” the other Lycan warned as he ascended the steps.

  “I told you, I’m fine, stop hovering!” Frankie’s voice rang out from her bedroom.

  “You dislocated your shoulder,” Enzo’s voice was louder. “Now shut up and let me help you.”

  “It’s barely sore and I don’t need the sling anymore. Ow! Basta!”

  Grant walked through the door, his eyes zeroing in on Frankie, lying in bed in her pajamas. “Why didn’t you call me?” he yelled as he rushed to her side. He gathered her into his arms and pulled her to him tight. His heart finally stopped slamming into his chest, and his wolf seemed to calm down once he touched Frankie.

  “I’m fine!” she insisted, pulling away from him. “I dislocated my shoulder trying to get out of the restaurant.”

  “Fuck! Godammit, Frankie,” Grant ran this fingers through his hair in frustration. “You could have been…you might have…”

  “I’m here, aren’t I?” she retorted. “Look, I didn’t want to worry you.”

  “Not calling me and having to find out from your brother that someone tried to kill you and that you’re hurt? How can I not be worried?” he gave her a stern look.

  Frankie looked at Enzo with dagger in her eyes. “Did you call him?”

  “Of course, I did,” Enzo replied. “We need his help. Someone is trying to hurt you, and we can’t protect you by ourselves.”

  “We’ll be fine,” Frankie crossed her arms over her chest.

  “Well, we’re not! I’m not!” Enzo slammed his fist against the wall. “Dammnit, Frankie, if we had lost you…” he stopped short, threw his hands in the air and left the room.

  Frankie stared after her brother, slack-jawed. “Cazzo,” she cursed and slunk back into the bed.

  “You know, he loves you,” Grant said, moving up beside her. “He may not show it, but he does.”

  “I know,” Frankie looked down at her lap. “I just…I don’t know what to do and how this all works. I’m supposed to protect them! Not put them in danger and not destroy our…” She choked up and began to cry softly.

  Grant quickly pulled her into a fierce hug. “Shh…it’s ok…”

  “I…the restaurant…Ma and Nonna…” she hiccupped through the tears.

  “Frankie…it’s ok. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.”

  ***

  Later in the afternoon, Frankie, her brothers, and Grant sat around the kitchen table, trying to gather their thoughts and regroup. Her brothers told Grant what had happened, while Frankie sat across from them, her arms crossed, seething at them for treating her like some child and not the Alpha.

  Grant had remained stoic as he listened to their story, but by the end, rage had built up in him again and he could barely contain his anger. His wolf was gnashing its teeth, snarling with fury. It wanted blood, and to rip out the throats of the Lycans who would dare try to kill Frankie.

  When he finally felt calm enough, he spoke up. “Frankie will come to New York with
me and she’ll be under my protection.” It sounded like an order, not a request, which made Frankie turn red with anger.

  “No!” Frankie protested. “Absolutely not.”

  “It’s best way to protect you,” Dante agreed.

  “And what about you? You, and Nonna Gianna, Enzo, Matty, and Rafe? Who’s going to protect you?” she asked.

  “We’ll be fine,” Enzo said. “No one is after us and Nonna will stay here until this get sorted out.”

  “And the restaurant?”

  “Frankie, there’s no restaurant!”

  Enzo’s words cut deep, but that was the truth. She couldn’t even bear to think about it and with everything in chaos, she didn’t know what would happen to Muccino’s. All day, her thoughts kept drifting back to the restaurant, and she knew there wouldn’t be enough insurance money to rebuild. They would have to close.

  “Stop thinking about the restaurant and think about your life!” Enzo railed. “You could have died today!”

  “But I didn’t!”

  “You could have, Frankie,” Matt looked at her with sad eyes. “And Lycans are out to get you and we can’t protect you from them.”

  Frankie paused and looked at all of them. She gave a defeated sigh. “I’m not going to win this, am I?”

  “It’s five against one,” Rafe said. “I’d say you were outvoted.”

  “Fine,” she grumbled, and stood up. “I’ll start packing.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Frankie followed Grant as he exited the car and walked to the elevators leading to his penthouse. Things had been tense when she was leaving, but her brothers promised to take care of everything while she was away. The ride back had been silent, with Frankie squeezing herself all the way to the other end of the car, far away from Grant. It was late by the time they got back to New York.

  Grant carried her duffel bag, and Frankie was too tired to protest. He pressed the button to the top floor and when they reached the hallway to his penthouse, there was a tall, broad-shouldered Lycan standing out the elevator. He eyed Frankie warily.

  “Ms. Muccino will be staying with us for a while, Pearson,” Grant explained. “The Beta has been informed and will be briefing the security team in the morning.”

  “Yes, Primul,” he nodded and resumed his post by the door.

  They entered Grant’s massive penthouse, and Frankie held her breath. It was probably bigger than the entire ground floor of her house, richly decorated in warm and masculine browns and dark grays. The living room had a big entertainment area with one wall that was just a large flat screen TV. Paintings and sculptures graced the walls and corners. As they walked in, she spied a modern-looking kitchen with shiny, stainless steel appliances.

  “Wow,” she could hardly stop herself from whistling. “This is your home?”

  “Yes, it’s quite cozy,” he chuckled as he opened one of the doors and disappeared inside.

  “Right,” she raised a brow at his retreating back. She looked towards the large windows with views of the Hudson River, and right across from them, New Jersey. At least she could see her territory from here.

  “Is this where you grew up too?” she asked when he reappeared.

  “Yes,” he replied. “I mean, this is the Alpha’s penthouse, so anyone who becomes New York’s Alpha lives here.”

  “Nice,” she traced her fingers along one of the glossy wooden console tables.

  “So,” he cleared his throat. “I’ve put your things in the guest bedroom.” He pointed to the door he came from.

  “Oh, ok.” Guest bedroom? A stab of hurt went through her. Right. She was a guest, after all. A guest of the New York Alpha.

  “Are you hungry? Thirsty? Do you want-”

  “No,” she breezed past him and walked towards the guest bedroom. “I’m not.” And then she shut the door behind her.

  ***

  The mattress in the guest bedroom was the softest and most luxurious thing she’d ever slept on, and the sheets were silky soft against her skin. But still, Frankie couldn’t sleep. God, she was starving, but pride prevented her from leaving the guest bedroom and raiding the kitchen.

  Was Grant still mad at her? Punishing her for not saying those three little words back to him? Or maybe he realized it was a mistake, that he didn’t love her at all. Sure, he was worried about her, and he came blazing into her house after he’d heard about what happened. A small part of her was secretly happy to see him. Despite all that had happened, she felt so safe with Grant.

  And now he was pushing her away and it was all her fault. This was charity, offering her protection because she couldn’t protect herself from whoever was out to get her. This was all a mistake. She was determined to go back to Jersey tomorrow and figure this out on her own.

  Her stomach gurgled noisily. Madre de dio, she had dinner before she left the house. Dante had cooked a massive meal enough for all of them, yet she was starving again. It was barely past midnight. Frankie got up, wrapped herself up in her silk robe and slowly opened the door. She hoped Grant was in bed.

  “Couldn’t sleep?”

  Cazzo.

  And then her stomach answered for her with a loud gurgle.

  Fuck.

  Grant stood from the couch. “You should have told me your were hungry.” He was wearing pale blue pajama pants and nothing else. Her eyes traced down from the strong muscles of his shoulders, the defined pecs, and lower still to his sexy six-pack abs. She swallowed a gulp and turned away, embarrassed.

  “I wasn’t until now,” she lied.

  With a sigh, he took her hand and led her to the kitchen. “Sit,” he motioned to the chairs around the breakfast nook.

  Grant opened the refrigerator, began to take out some bread, cheese, fruit and laid it out in front of her. He took a knife and wooden cutting board from another cabinet and began to slice up the food for her on a small plate.

  “Thanks,” she murmured as she bit into a piece of bread. It took all her might not to devour all the food he prepared for her.

  Grant ate with her in silence, pushing more food her way as she nibbled away. She ate just enough to sate her protesting stomach and when she was done, she pushed the plate away.

  “Done?”

  “Yes,” she said, hopping off the chair. “Thank you,” she said before turning back towards the living room.

  “Wait,” Grant called.

  She froze in her spot and waited for him to say something else. But he was silent.

  “I hate this,” she finally spoke, not looking at him.

  “Hate what?” he asked.

  Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath. “You treating me like a stranger. Putting me up in your extra bedroom like I’m just your guest and-” She stopped as a warm hand wrapped around her upper arm and spun her around. Big, strong arms wrapped around her and pulled her close. God, she missed this, missed his wonderful, scent enveloping her.

  “What do you need, Frankie?” He buried his nose into her hair.

  “You. I just need you,” she confessed. “And I hate that too.”

  “You hate it?” he asked, pulling away and looking down at her with those thoughtful green eyes.

  “I hate that I need you to help me and protect me. I’m an Alpha, and I’m supposed to be the one protecting my clan and my family. And I failed and I’m weak and-”

  Warm lips cut her off and she sighed into his mouth and melted into his arms. His mouth pressed up gently against hers, his warm hand moving up to cup her jaw.

  “You’re not weak, Frankie,” he said against her mouth. “You’re strong. So very strong. All these years, keeping everyone together. Supporting your brothers, helping them to succeed and achieve what they want, sacrificing your own freedom and wants. You’re a good Alpha and a good sister.”

  “But-”

  “But nothing. You haven’t failed anyone.” He swept her up into his arms and carried her out of the kitchen.

  “Where are you taking me?” she asked.<
br />
  “Where you belong, where I should have put you in the first place.” He walked towards the opposite end of the penthouse, away from the guest bedroom. “With me.”

  They entered his bedroom, and Grant laid her reverently on the bed, pulling back the covers so she could slip in between them. He joined her, spooning her from behind.

  She settled into his arms, the tension leaving her body.

  “Did you…did you do research about my father?” she began. “Those records are available from the High Council.”

  “No. I was curious, but didn’t want to pry,” he brushed the hair from her neck and press his lips to the soft skin under her ear.

  “He was a Lone Wolf,” she stated.

  “I didn’t know.”

  Lone Wolves were Lycans who didn’t have a clan or associated with one. There were many reasons why some Lycans turned rogue, and usually it was not of their own choosing. Their clan might have banished them or their family might have died out and they didn’t want to join any other clan. The High Council allowed some Lycans such a status as long as they registered and carried a mark somewhere on their body so they could easily be identified in case they wandered into some clan’s territory.

  “He met my mother while he was doing a road trip across the country. Actually,” she laughed. “He apparently hadn’t even been on the road for a month when he met her. Then, they had me and he decided to stay in Jersey.”

  “He’s also Dante’s father?”

  She nodded. “He stayed long enough to get my mother pregnant again, but after that…” she trailed off. “Well, he couldn’t stay put. He couldn’t help it, my mother said, it was his nature to want to roam. And so, he left us.”

  “I’m sorry. Is he still alive?” He held her tighter.

  “No. I mean, I don’t know,” she sighed. “I think…I would feel it if he was. My mom was sad when he left, of course, but I was too young when it happened. I don’t even remember him. She remarried a year later, had the twins, but they divorced too after Rafe was born. He just couldn’t accept her for who she was.”

 

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