The Alpha King's Obsession

9. Rules of Engagement

Alexander’s POV.

The elevator ride down to the garage was an exercise in torture.

We stood side by side, not touching, but the air between us was so charged with static that the hair on my arms was standing on end. I could smell her arousal, sweet, heavy, and undeniable, warring with the sharp tang of her anger.

She was furious. And she had every right to be.

I’d kissed her like a starving man. I’d mauled her in front of a Council Elder. I’d broken every rule of ‘professional distance’ within five minutes of her signing the contract.

Worth it, Titus rumbled, pacing a tight circle in my mind. She tastes like starlight. Do it again.

Shut up, I snapped back. Control. We need control. Or we’ll destroy her.

The elevator doors skid open, revealing the cavernous, dimply lit VIP garage and River, who was already waiting by the armored SUV, holding the back door open.

Lilian marched out, her shoes clinking angrily against the concrete. She didn’t even spare me a glance. She beelined for the car, slid into the back seat, and scooted as far to other side as physically possible.

I followed, buttoning my jacket, and tried to compose the mask of the indifferent CEO.

As I climbed in, the scent of her hit me again. Confined withing the leather interior, it was overwhelming. Moonflowers. Rain. And that underlying electric buzz that marked her as my mate.

River slid into the driver’s seat, started the engine and the V8 roared to life, a low growl that matched the one in my chest.

As we pulled out into the blinding afternoon sun of Manhattan, I risked a glance at her. Lilian was staring out the window with her arms crossed defensively against her chest, as she chewed on her lower lip. The same lip I’d just bitten. It looked swollen.

Guilt, sharp and old, prickled at me. It was a familiar feeling. The DeLuca men were experts at hurting the things they coveted.

“Lilian,” I began, my voice low.

“Don’t,” she snapped, not even turning around. “Just…don’t speak for a minute. I’m processing.”

“Processing what?”

“Processing the fact that I just sold my life to a man who thinks s*xual assault is a valid negotiation tactic.”

I bristled. “That was not assault. You kissed me back.”

Her head whipped around in my direction, her blue eyes blazing. “I was in shock! There is a difference between participation and survival reflex!”

“You melted,” I pointed out, unable to help myself. “I felt it.”

Her cheeks turned a furious shade of crimson. “I did not melt. I…I…I…succumbed to gravity. And shock. And the fact that you are roughly the size of a vending machine and I had nowhere to go.”

I fought the urge to smirk. Vending machine? That was a new one.

“Listen to me,” I shifted in my seat to face her. I rested my arm on the back of the leather seat, encroaching slightly on her territory. “Marcus Thorne is a shark. If he sensed even a hint of hesitation, he would have torn you apart. He needed to see possessiveness. He needed to see that you belong to me.”

“So you marked your territory,” she said bitterly. “Like a dog on a fire hydrant.”

If only she knew, my Wolf chuffed. We should have bitten her neck. That would have been marking.

“I did what was necessary to ensure your survival,” I corrected. “And mine. The Cou-…The Board is looking for weakness, Lilian. From this moment forward, you cannot show any. You are the Luna…the fiancée…of the most powerful man on the East Coast. You have to look the part.”

She let out a frustrated huff, blowing a strand of dark hair out of her eyes. “I don’t even know what the part is! You picked me off the street, gave me three million dollars, and dragged me into…whatever this is. I don’t know the rules, Alexander.”

“Then learn them,” I said. “Rule number one : We are a united front. In public you adore me. You touch me. You look at me like I hung the moon.”

“And in private?” she challenged.

I looked at her. Really looked at her. I traced the line of her jaw, the pulse fluttering in her neck.

And then, the memory hit me. My father, standing over my mother’s casket, his eyes wild with grief, his soul shattered. My grandfather, locking himself in the east wing, howling until his throat had bled because his mate had died.

The DeLuca curse.

That’s what they called it in the whispers of the Underworld. The DeLuca men loved once, and we loved with a violence that burned everything down. We didn’t just mate. We became obsessed. We suffocated. We consumed. And eventually, the women we loved…they broke. They died under the weight of our intensity.

I wouldn’t do that to her. I wouldn’t let the madness take me.

“In private,” I said, my voice dropping to an icy whisper, “you stay out of my way.”

Her eyes widened slightly, “Excuse me?”

“I’m a busy man,” I lied, erecting the walls around my heart stone by stone. “I have enemies. I have a corporation to run. I do not have time to play house. You’ll have your own wing of the penthouse. You’ll have everything you ask for - clothes, food, books, whatever plants you want. But do not expect me to be a husband. Do not expect…that.”

I gestured vaguely between us, referring to the kiss.

“That was a performance,” I repeated, trying to convince myself as much as her. “It won’t happen behind closed doors.”

Liar, Titus snarled. You want her in your bed every night.

I want her alive, I counter. If I let her in, the Curse will kill her.

Lilian stared at me for a long moment. She looked hurt, then confused, and finally, resolute.

“Fine by me,” she agreed, lifting her chin. “Business only. But I have a few rules too.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Oh? You have rules?”

“Yes. Rule number one : No more tongue without a written warning.”

I choked on a laugh. I actually laughed, a rusty sound, something I hadn’t used in years.

“Noted,” I conceded.

“Rule number two,” she went on, counting on her fingers. “I get to finish my degree. I have midterms in three weeks, and I’m no failing because I’m busy playing trophy wife.”

“Agreed. River will accompany you.”

“And rule number three,” she said, her voice softening slightly. “You don’t treat me like I’m stupid. I know I’m poor. I know I don’t belong in your world. But I’m not an i***t, Alexander. Don’t talk down on me.”

I sobered at that. My eyes locked on hers, in the fire in them, the resilience that had kept her alive in a city that ate the weak.

“I don’t think you’re stupid, Lilian. I think you’re brave. Recklessly so.”

She held my gaze, and for a second, the static between us wasn’t aggressive. It was warm. A hum of connection that went deeper than the contract.

Mate, Titus whispered. She is strong. Maybe strong enough to break the curse.

No, I told him firmly. None of them are ever strong enough.

I tore my eyes away from her, looking at the front of the car. “River, ETA?”

When River didn’t answer right away, I looked at the rearview mirror.

He was…frowning and he wasn’t looking at the road. He was glancing down at his own hand, flexing his fingers against the steering wheel. He seemed…distracted. Dazed.

“River,” I barked.

He snapped to attention, his eyes darting to the mirror. “Ten minutes, Boss. Just clearing the tunnel.”

“Is there a problem with the vehicle?” I asked suspiciously. River was never distracted. He was s Sentinel, a born protector.

“No, sir,” he grunted. Then, to my surprise, he muttered. “Just thinking about socks.”

I blinked, positive I’d misheard him. “Socks?”

“Tactical socks,” he clarified, though his ears turned red. “For…temperature regulation.”

I stared at the back of his head. Had everyone lost their minds today? Was there something in the water?

I looked back Lilian, who was hiding a smile behind her hand. She knew something, I didn’t.

“Tactical socks,” I repeated flatly. “Right.”

The rest of the drive passed in silence, but the tension had shifted. It wasn’t the jagged, angry silence of before. It was heavy, waiting silence.

Finally, we pulled up to my building. Even though it posed as a second office building for my business, it wasn’t just that. The top ten floors were my personal fortress - private elevator, reinforced glass, a rooftop garden that was the only place in the city where I could let Titus run without being seen.

“Welcome home, Mrs. DeLuca,” River said as he pulled into the private entrance and parked popping the locks.

“Not Mrs. DeLuca yet,” Lilian corrected, grabbing her bag. “Just the employee.”

I got out and waited for her, and as she stepped out of the SUV, she looked up at the towering steel structure, her neck craning back.

“You live up there?” she asked.

“Top floor.”

“Do you have a bat signal too?”

“Funny.”

I guided her toward the elevator, this one different from the office lifts. It was glass, lined with gold, and required a bio metric scan of my palm to open.

I pressed my hand to the panel and it beeped green.

Authorized : Alpha DeLuca.

Lilian flinched at the mechanical voice, before asking, “Alpha?”

F*ck. I’d forgotten the system used the formal pack titles.

“It’s a…nickname,” I said smoothly, ushering her inside. " Alpha Male. CEO. It’s a corporate joke.”

“A joke?” Her brows pulled together. “Your security system tells jokes.”

“It’s very expensive.”

The doors closed, and we shot upward, leaving the city fall beneath us and turn into a map of light as the sun began to dip lower.

When the doors opened again, we stepped directly into the penthouse foyer and Lilian stopped dead with an audible gasp that I was certain wasn’t intentional.

To be fair, it was impressive. Double-height ceilings, floor-to-ceiling glass walls offering a 360-degree view of New York, floors made of imported Italian marble, and a floating staircase that looked more like art than architecture.

It was cold. It was modern. It was expensive.

And it was empty.

“Wow,” Lilian breathed and her voice echoed in the vast space. “It’s huge.”

“It’s secure,” I said, walking past her to toss my keys on a side table. “River will bring your boxes up shortly. The guest wing is to the left. Master suit is upstairs. And upstairs is off-limits unless invited.”

Lilian looked around, hugging her arms to herself. She looked tiny in the middle of the cavernous space.

“It’s a bit…lonely, isn’t it?” she asked softly.

I paused, my hand on the banister. Lonely? I had a pack of thousands of wolves. I had a company worth billions. I had the Triad on speed dial.

But standing here, staring at this girl who brought color and scent into my monochrome world, I realized for the first time just how quiet this house actually was.

“It’s peaceful,” I corrected her. “I value peace.”

“It looks like a museum,” she murmured, walking over to a sculpture. “Do you actually live here or do you just hunt it?”

I turned to face her fully. The setting sun was framing her in a halo of orange and gold, making my breath catch. My mate. In my home.

Titus was purring so loudly I felt it in my teeth.

Home, he agreed. She makes it home.

“Get settled, Lilian,” my abrupt tone caught even me off-guard. I needed to escape before I did something stupid. Like hug her. Or apologize. “Dinner is at eight. Don’t be late.”

I didn’t wait to hear her reply. I turned and walked up the stairs, my footsteps heavy. When I made it to my bedroom, I locked the door and leaned back against the wood, exhaling a shuddering breath. My hands were trembling and the static from touching her was still buzzing under my skin, a relentless itch that demanded more.

Six months.

I walked over to the window and looked down at the city I ruled. But my mind was on the past.

My father had loved my mother. He had loved her with such ferocity that when she got sick, he tore the world apart trying to save her. And when she died, he didn’t just grieve. He went feral and the Council had to put him down like a rabid dog.

And his father before him? He’d locked his mate in the tower of the old manor because he was too jealous to let the sun touch her skin.

The DeLuca curse.

We didn’t know how to love without destroying.

I looked at my reflection in the glass. My eyes were shifting, the gold bleeding into amber.

I won’t do it, I promised silently. I won’t become them. I’d keep her safe from the world. But more importantly, I’d keep her safe from me.

Pushing away from the window, I unbuttoned my shirt with shaking fingers.

Lilian Jones wasn’t just a fake wife. She was the one and only thing that could destroy me.

And I’d just invited her in.