The Alpha Killed My Husband

22| RE:

Aaradhya

{AVinayakpack@LunaA.com}

5: 45 PM 22/06/22

To R,

Rudransh, youngest failure of the self-proclaimed douchebags:

First, I'd like to see that degree of yours that you egoistically flaunts while bending at an awful excuse of dab. The contents of your regards are questionable. I bet my wealth you have it counterfeited or maybe you sucked the dean's wiggly-jiggly!

An educated Alpha wouldn't steep as terribly low as to botch with someone's last name. Clearly, you think it is hilarious! NEWSFLASH, it ain't. It's inappropriate and a crime. I could have you made into a bathtub in the sauna with a feather headrest and an automatic warmer. Fortunately for you, I think your ugliness will only ruin the lavish decor.

Secondly, I'd like to remind you about my share in your property. This floor and every other floor is as much mine as it is yours; I can take my round juicy ass wherever I want. You shall have to find someone else to boss around.

Fuck Off!

Regards,

The extremely beautiful Aaradhya

Luna, the Vinayaka Pack

___________________________________________________

I smile at the content, going through it for an apparent error before I touched the arrow and it disappears into Rudransh's mailbox. I lock the phone, put one leg over another and look outside the window with smudginess dripping from my face.

I feel a new feeling erupting in my heart as I marvel at the setting sun. It's satisfaction. I like how easy it is to let myself out. There aren't carefully chosen words or strong phrases. Only short sentences blended with emotions. It's like fighting with a nagging sibling. There isn't a thread of fear of offending the counterpart.

With stifling lips, I will have to admit—I like this easygoing Alpha Rudransh more than the always grumpy King Vachaspati. My deliberations are cut short when the phone chimes.