Work Text:
Sweat beading on his temples, Roderich really wishes he could remember how he got into this position.
“Alright everyone,” the unfairly attractive instructor calls from the front of the room, his bright green headband soaking up any sweat that might drip into his eyes, “now we move into a ‘Downward Dog’. Go as deep or shallow as you want with these stretches, just remember, this is whatever’s most comfortable for you.”
Roderich has to bite back a choked sound at what is likely an unintended innuendo by the yoga teacher, feeling his arms shake as he moves from an Upward Facing Dog to the position Antonio just asked for.
Antonio. Roderich has to swallow back a heartfelt sigh. The instructor for this class, Antonio teaches this class and many others at this tiny, out of the way gym for college credits for his Physical Activity major.
Which Roderich only knows because he had a background check done on the young alpha. As well as his relations (one mother, amiably divorced from Antonio’s sire who has since moved away to another country and has a family there, as well as the fact Antonio has an identical twin brother), his friends (Francis Bonnefoy, a chef and his roommate, as well as Gilbert Beilschmidt, a current ‘gymbro’ and the one who informed Roderich of this particular gym), to other things.
Things like Antonio’s favorite colors (red and tan), his favorite foods (tomatoes, churros, and empanadas). Antonio’s love of cute things, from frills and bows to babies of all sorts, humans and animals alike. How he has dreams of settling down and raising a family. How he both wants to be a personal trainer and do physical therapy.
Roderich had no idea that alphas could be so cute. Not until he found green eyes.
“Alright everyone, now into the ‘Three legged Dog’,” Antonio cheers, being careful of the kittens milling around his feet.
Ah, yes. Not only was this a yoga class, it was a kitten yoga class. This gym has an agreement with the local shelter that allows them to host kitten and puppy yoga classes in the hopes of finding, if not a foster home, a forever home for the little creatures.
Watching Antonio lean over to scritch a fluffy gray kitten’s back, Roderich has to choke back a helpless coo of adoration. How the hell is everything about this beefcake of an alpha so cute?
Relieved that his scent-patches haven’t sweated off (a new brand he was trying out, courtesy of a recommendation from Antonio when Roderich had gotten up the nerve to ask him last week), the omega stretches his arms out, one pointed to the floor and the other the ceiling.
Honestly, he’d bitch more about the physical activity except for the fact that the months of regular sessions had improved his stamina and overall health.
Gilbert has been insufferable about that fact for the past month ever since a momentary lapse of judgement had led to Roderich admitting as much. Ass. A quick scowl slides across his face before Roderich’s able to shove the irritation off with another deep breath to keep and hold the pose until Antonio calls out for them to slide into the ‘Tree Pose’.
Two more poses later and a cool down period afterwards heralds the end of the class, Antonio waving a cheery hand to them all.
“Thank you everyone for coming and doing your best, I hope to see you guys next week!” the alpha calls, rolling up his yoga mat as his class streams out the door until only Roderich’s left inside. Peeking over his shoulder when he hears the scuffing of feet, Antonio beams up at him. “Are you going to help me round up the kittens again?”
“Of course,” Roderich sniffs, even as he blushes under Antonio’s attention. If his men could see him now… Roderich rubs his cheek in an attempt to disperse the accumulated blood.
Between the two of them, the thirteen kittens are soon rounded up and put in their respective carriers.
“Gracias,” Antonio yanks his headband off, using the outside edge to mop his brow, “this is loads easier with two people instead of one.”
“Of course, any time,” fumbles eagerly out of Roderich’s mouth, his lips pursing sourly. He wishes he understood how he can conduct deals that benefit his Family with the most heinous of men and yet stumbles over his words when it comes to Antonio’s kind platitudes.
The alpha grins at him, then makes a loose gesture to Roderich’s neck. “I meant to ask, but how are the invisi-patches working out?”
“As well as you said they would,” Roderich tucks his hair behind his ear and tries not to curse himself out for the coy move. He can’t encourage Antonio’s burgeoning interest.
He shouldn’t be indulging his own.
“Muy bien. I,” Antonio clears his throat, glancing away for a moment and Roderich watches him with curiosity when he seems to change his mind, “I look forward to seeing you in the next class. Don’t forget to keep stretching and practicing, even at home.”
“Of course,” Roderich demurs, a wicked smirk curling the corner of his lip, “I do like to keep myself nice and flexible for the night.” He has to bite back a laugh when the alpha almost drops his water bottle as Antonio (mostly) misinterprets his meaning.
“Que?”
“Hm?”
They blink at each other, Roderich biting back giggles.
“Well,” Roderich says, “I should be going. Have a good rest of the day, Antonio. Until next time.”
“See you, Roderich.” Antonio waves at him while he leaves, the alpha left to prepare for his next class.
Outside, Roderich’s car is already waiting for him, Ludwig opening the door for him from the back seat. Roderich slides in next to him and puts his yoga mat between his legs. From the driver’s seat, Basch glares at him through the rearview mirror.
“Something to say?” Roderich raises one sculpted eyebrow at him.
“Your movements are becoming too predictable, Roderich, and for what? To ogle your hot yoga instructor?” Basch scowls as he pulls away from the curb.
Roderich’s eyes cut over to Ludwig, “and you? What are your thoughts?”
“I think you are our boss,” Ludwig flips through his newspaper, “and have the final say on what you do.”
Roderich knows Ludwig has more to say than just that. “And?”
“Basch is right.”
Roderich scowls, squeezing his rolled up yoga mat with his knees. He refrains from rolling his eyes as Ludwig continues his spiel.
“Your continued attendance will be noted and not only will you be in danger, but so will Mr. Fernandez-Carriedo,” the alpha smartly replies, shutting his newspaper and snapping it closed against his knee. “Wasn’t it you who warned me to be careful of the folly of the heart’s whims two years ago, Roderich?”
Roderich meets his narrow-eyed look with one of his own. “I am not the one who was starting to fall in love with the younger brother of the Italians’ leader.” Roderich’s laugh is mean and more than a little smug when Ludwig tears his gaze away with an unattractive blush that he knows extends all the way down his chest.
“Then again, I could get you what you want now.” Roderich teases as Ludwig whips his attention back to him. “Little Feliciano, was it? I bet you would like that, hm? His dainty little neck in your teeth?”
“Stop,” Ludwig begs through gritted teeth.
“Why? It is what you want, no?” Roderich mocks, his gaze crystalizing. “What you and most alphas want. A pretty little omega to protect and keep under lock and key- or are you worried that’s what the Italians would demand of you? To be a kept alpha, in their compound, until you’re smitten enough, tamed enough, to be allowed out?”
“Roderich!” Ludwig snaps, his name shifting to a plea at the end. Roderich presses his lips together to prevent a smile.
Ludwig hangs his head, quiet as he asks, “what’s the difference? Why are you saying ‘yes’ now?”
“Two years and having the port they want but say that they don’t.”
Ludwig looks all too hopeful and Roderich almost feels bad halving it.
“But it’s unlikely they’ll tie the knot of marriage. Romano seems to think it’s what he’ll hang himself with.”
Ludwig’s expression drops to its usual hard edges of stone, rounded by despair. He knows not to beg Roderich more than he already has. Too much begging awakens Roderich’s sadistic side and makes him deny the supplicant merely on the basis that he can.
But what an idea- Roderich licks his lips as he thinks about that little scenario -an alpha, being the kept house partner? Antonio, kept for his pleasure? Every single one of his pretty smiles just for Roderich and brought out only for parties, shown off like a tiger on a golden chain?
Roderich lets out a slow breath through his nose to keep his laughter locked away, amused by his own thoughts. Antonio, a tiger? More like one of those golden retrievers he’s seen in one of those viral online videos. The ones that watch over kittens like a hovering nanny and let those tiny hissy puffballs burrow into their fur.
Antonio would make an excellent father.
His wandering thoughts screech to a halt. Parenthood? Where in the hell had that come from? This was supposed to be a minor crush, not some- some- obsession!
Roderich taps impatient fingers on his thigh, tapping out the beginning notes to Clair de Lune, wishing Basch would drive faster. As if by some karmic twist of fate, their vehicle then hits the afternoon rush, Roderich nearly bashing his head on the seat in front of him in frustration.
Left with nothing to do but think, his mind commits a mutiny against his willpower and returns to the idea of Antonio, as a father. The few times someone had brought one of their pups to the yoga class, the alpha had completely doted on the child. He’d make sure to focus on the easier exercises, making silly faces and cracking jokes and making sound effects whenever he moved from one position to the next.
Holding a fussing babe to his chest. Making the stretches into a game or story for the seven year olds. Citing the skill level to the preteens and teenagers. All of them, all of those age groups, happy to listen to Antonio.
It’s a natural transition to then think about what Antonio’s (their) potential children would look like. Boy or girl? Alpha, beta, or omega?
Roderich can picture all of those options. Antonio, teaching their alpha daughter with Roderich’s eyes and Antonio’s curls how to be the best little alpha. Antonio, showing their bright-eyed little beta son or daughter how to climb trees and guiding the tyke through math problems. Antonio, petting through their omega son’s dark hair and comforting him after a hard day of lessons with Roderich. Being the warmth to Roderich’s cool.
Roderich can already tell that Antonio wouldn’t be happy with just one. He’d want a minimum of two and Roderich can picture the alpha doting on a whole herd of the little beasties.
It’s not an unattractive image.
Roderich’s lips purse as he thinks about it, brow furrowing. One pregnancy he could do, perhaps, especially if it’s well planned and during a time when his absence won’t be noted, but more? A surrogate would have to be found.
Perhaps his and Ludwig’s cousin, Julia? He thinks about the female beta and her reckless ways and disregards using her. Maybe Elizaveta? He internally shrugs as he considers her; she would work as an option. Genevieve, his cook, would do as well. Both are pretty, healthy, and strong. Both also owe his more than a few favors. He might have to use them both if Antonio wants more than three pups.
What else? Well, a nanny would obviously be needed to help clean up with any messes and assist Antonio in caring for the children.
Roderich nearly purrs aloud. Antonio, being a dutiful househusband, there to welcome Roderich home after he’s done with his dealings for the day- Roderich has to pull back on his scent before his lust and excitement can alert his men what he’s thinking about, subtly readjusting one of the patches on his neck.
Where was he?
Ah, yes, Antonio letting Roderich bite every inch of him after they put the pups to bed. Antonio turning them over on their own king mattress to worship Roderich with his plush lips and tongue that rolls ‘r’s so prettily. All while reeking of alpha spice while Roderich smothers him in his floral omega scent until the alpha’s buried.
Roderich absently rubs his knuckles against his lips as he lets himself indulge in thinking about all the things he wants to do to Antonio. He’d love to show him off, almost as much as he wants to keep him locked away and all to himself.
He’d love to see the alpha all dolled up in a fitted tux instead of those stupid baggy basketball shorts and matching baggy tank top that do absolutely nothing for the alpha’s figure. At least the tank top reveals the hard line of Antonio’s shoulders and those firm biceps. Though Roderich would love nothing more than to burn those fucking shorts. Especially the yellow ones. Fuck the yellow ones.
The omega would love to see Antonio in all sorts of outfits. He’d been hoping for weeks to see Antonio in those tight men’s yoga pants he’s seen in sporting goods stores, and to see the alpha in a swimsuit would be a dream. Cucinelli sweaters, Shinola watches, Garavani pants- all of these designers paint a pretty picture, with Antonio as the canvas.
Streets pass slowly in front of Roderich’s face as he looks out black-tinted windows and his thoughts dip into darker images. Antonio, in rope and harness. Silk and soft leather, because the only marks allowed on Antonio’s skin are to come from Roderich’s mouth. Unless he desires otherwise. He imagines welts on that perfect ass he knows Antonio possesses, himself wielding a riding crop to leave those marks on his mate.
Roderich wonders if Antonio has any scars already. What marks does his body carry? What moles and freckles dot his back? Does he have any hidden birthmarks? Tattoos? He wants to map and memorize every perfect imperfection Antonio’s body contains, inside and out. From scars to allergies, Roderich wants to know it all.
Basch turns the car at the next intersection, taking them out to the suburbs and Roderich’s own fenced-in property. Usually he’d go to one of his condos, but it wouldn’t do to be too predictable. In that way, Roderich grudgingly admits, Basch and Ludwig are right.
He really should stop going to Antonio’s yoga class. Even if it makes his inner omega scream and howl to consider letting the alpha he wants (obsesses over) go.
Getting out of the car once it’s pulled over, Ludwig and Basch fall into step around him, Ludwig entering the house first and Basch trailing behind them both. Ahead of him, Ludwig grunts and raises his hand in a loose wave.
“Hey,” Gilbert mumbles around a spoonful of ice cream, waving back. Swallowing, he tips his head to Roderich. “How’s your yoga class? Still simping over Toni?” Roderich throws his yoga mat at his head and Gilbert snickers as he bats it to the floor. “Guess so.”
“Enough,” Roderich sniffs, “the only words I want to hear out of your mouth are the ones telling me that the Turks are willing to parley with us.”
Gilbert hmpfs around another scoop of ice cream. “Ja, they are. Adnan is willing to meet with you next week, Friday. He said you can set the meeting place and time.” The alpha holds out a folded piece of paper. “This is the number he gave me for you to contact him with.”
Roderich plucks it from Gilbert’s hand with deft fingers, shoving the note into a pocket as he passes him to go deeper into the house. “Thank you.”
“Where are you going?”
“I need a shower,” Roderich rolls his eyes at Basch, “contact your sister if you’re going to hover, Sebastian.”
He doesn’t bother to wait for a response, trudging up the stairs to the master bedroom with its deep red and white accents, fingers trailing along the wall as he stops briefly to pull out slacks and a worn button-up. He has no plans of going out for the rest of the day and most of his business can be done over the phone or via email. Might as well be comfortable in this brief moment of respite.
After a long, boiling hot shower that leaves Roderich’s pale limbs a flushed, pinkish color, he wraps his hair in a towel turban and dresses, listening to the murmur of his people in the house below. There’s some laughter, but it’s mostly too low for Roderich to hear from where his room is located.
Digging into the pocket of his discarded yoga leggings, he pulls the innocuous slip of paper out and unfolds it, thumb running along the line of the crisp folds. His other hand grabs his spare mobile with an automatic motion and he’s dialing the number before he can second-guess his actions.
“Alo,” a deep voice greets him over the tinny sound of the cellphone’s speaker. Despite the low quality of the burner Roderich’s calling Sadik from, he can still hear the low alpha rumble at the bottom of his voice, reverberating from that drum-like chest.
“Hello, Adnan.”
“Calling me so soon, Roderich?” Roderich’s mouth pulls down in annoyance to be referred to so casually, not that the other mafia don can see it. “I wasn’t expecting a call for another day or two,” Sadik quietly laughs into the receiver.
“Come now, Adnan, you know I hate wasting time. Why do tomorrow what can be done now?” Roderich innocently purrs back. He knows how many underworld dons see him- an omega, heading his own mafia? An omega, who should be in the above-world shopping for frills and cake and anything that satisfies his innocent little whims. A collared omega who should be at home with pups and some alpha running the his mafia instead.
Never mind the fact that it’s been the maternal side that has run the Edili Clan for the past six generations. Roderich’s going to strain his eyes if he has to roll them one more time today.
“True enough. Where would you like to meet, little master?”
“Have you ever been to Weissand Race Course? There’s a beautiful little event room I love to rent there, and the race that day starts at five. Shall I expect to see you then?” Roderich slides one leg underneath him as he sits on the edge of his bed, his spare hand fiddling with the soft sheets.
“Weissand Racecourse at five o’clock in the event room. I’ll bring my own company, perhaps… Five of my friends?”
Roderich doubts that will be the true number of Sadik’s entourage, but he’ll play along for now. “That’s perfectly fine. I look forward to our meeting.”
“Until then, little master,” Sadik bids him, the alpha hanging up with amusement in his deep voice.
Roderich grumbles as he hangs up, already planning what he is to wear. The indigo suit and black cravat? That’d be a pretty combination. Add in the sapphire brooch with the tiny rubies and that should be enough to ensure all eyes are on him and not what he’s saying.
Alphas can be so stupid when it comes to pretty omegas. One would think they would have learned by now to beware of beautiful things.
Humming, Roderich flops on his back and throws his hands up toward the ceiling, flipping them over and back again, seeing the imaginary flashes of blood. His hands haven’t been clean as long as he can remember.
He wonders how much blood is on Sadik Adnan’s hands, the ones that desire his own hands covetously.
He wonders how little blood is on Antonio’s hands. Antonio is as ordinary as ordinary can be, he can barely imagine the alpha needing to hit anyone outside of some gym exercise. I wonder if he boxes, Roderich wonders.
He quite likes Antonio’s hands. Hands that have never had to choke someone out or break their neck. Hands that have never pulled the trigger to empty a bullet into a traitor’s head. Hands that have never slipped poison into a rival’s drink.
Hands that have helped Roderich stand when he’s fallen or been too wiped from one of the early yoga sessions to stand.
Hands where even the calluses are soft and gentle. Roderich buries his face in his hands and groans, ignoring the phantom feeling of dried blood. He needs to get a hold of himself before he does something- unwise.
He takes two full minutes for himself, counting each second that passes by to the metronome of his heart. One, ba-dum, two, ba-dum, three, ba-dum, and so on until he reaches one hundred-twenty ba-dums. One last breath in and he returns to his lieutenants, petting through Gilbert’s hair before sliding into his usual seat at the kitchen island.
“I have already talked to Adnan; we’ll be meeting at my race course at five,” Roderich says as he folds in his hands on the counter in front of him. “Obviously he’s bringing company. I’ll quote him saying ‘five’, though let us be honest,” Roderich rolls his eyes for the nth time today, “it will likely be more. He hasn’t lived this long in this world without knowing to be precious with the truth.”
Softly sighing, Roderich takes his towel turban off his damp hair and hands it to Basch to take care of when he opens his mouth in protest. A sharp glance and Basch leaves to hang the towel up in the bathroom.
“I will hear of any worries you have later,” Roderich firmly states, the groomed nail of his pointer finger clicking on quartz as he taps away at it, “for now, I’m hungry.”
Gilbert snorts. “What does little priss want?”
“Grostl?” Roderich innocently blinks at Gilbert, the alpha huffing in amusement.
“As little priss wishes.” The alpha begins puttering around the kitchen, Ludwig getting up to help his brother prepare the dish.
Roderich does so love the sight of alphas doing his bidding.
Most of his direct underlings are alphas. Ludwig, Gilbert, Elizaveta, others. There’s something very satisfying having them bow to his whims.
He wonders how Antonio would fit in. Antonio, sitting next to him while Roderich pets through his beautiful mess of curls (how soft are they?), stroking a teasing hand up his thigh, touching the globes of his ass that he hides behind baggy shorts- Hm. Roderich taps his chin with his hand. Is his heat coming on?
Doing the mental math, he should be fine for another month, but he should probably schedule a checkup with his doctor if this lust (obsession) continues invading his every waking thought. It’s not uncommon, especially for omegas, to need adjustments made to their suppressants every few years, and Roderich is overdue.
So many things to do and his mental list keeps getting longer and longer. Continue to do his exercise routine, distance himself from Antonio, prepare for his meeting with the Turks, doctor’s appointment. Huh. Only four things to do. That’s not so hard.
The week is filled with preparations needed to meet with the rival mafia that Roderich couldn’t go to his bi-weekly yoga class if he wanted to.
And he wants to.
On both Tuesday and Thursday Roderich is an ill-tempered, screaming mess to any who dare to cross him. Some of those same idiots are made to bleed when they ask him just one too many stupid questions. The days between are a little less hectic, but still tense as the buildup to the meeting rumbles towards them like an oncoming storm.
Roderich resolutely ignores the judging looks his lieutenants give him, instead sifting through papers and emails for all his dealings. It would not do to meet with Adnan and have the rival mafia boss think Roderich’s house out of order, considering Sadik seems to want to form an alliance.
In between screaming matches, slaps, and phone calls, Roderich does bouts of yoga to try and re-center himself and calm his circling nerves that dip from icy calm to hot tempered in the span of a few breaths. At one point Roderich gives in and streams one of Antonio’s yoga classes on the Thursday before his meeting and lets out the breath he’s been holding and lets the tense line of his shoulders relax.
Antonio’s happy voice sounds through tinny speakers and Roderich follows along to his directions to stretch and breathe. Roderich moves from one warrior pose to another, then the chair pose to the butterfly pose on the ground. Occasionally the distinct mewing of a kitten will come through the speakers and Roderich laughs when Antonio has to move kittens off his feet and lap several times to be able to do the next pose.
Too easily can Roderich picture Antonio doing those things with their pups.
By the end of the session Roderich smells omega-sweet once more, a rose with hidden thorns that’s once more prepared to make any who dare try to pluck him bleed. His people all breathe a sigh of relief when he’s back to commanding them clear and concise, firm in what they need done in the few hours before tomorrow.
It’s that calm that carries them all through to the next day, all of his peoples’ eyes on Roderich when he comes out of his bedroom with his armor all in place.
His cream-colored suit is all crisp lines with wide-legged pants that cast his features further into androgyny, his short hair elegantly coiffed and his makeup subtle yet pretty, meant to highlight his lavender eyes. Roderich’s stuck to silver for his jewelry, slim rings on his fingers with delicate bangles on his wrists that match the slim band of his watch and the plain silver studs in his earlobes.
Fixing the lapel of his cropped jacket in the hall mirror, Roderich casts a glance over at Basch standing silently behind him. “Everyone’s ready?”
“Yes, and some of Adnan’s men have already been seen heading to the track.”
“Unsurprising,” Roderich absently remarks as he fixes the false eyelashes he has on, one hand out impatiently waving for his race day hat that Basch is holding onto for him. His lieutenant scowls as he hands it over.
“For as angry as you’ve been this week, you sure are calm today.”
“The waiting is over and I’m finally meeting the Turk in person,” Roderich whips out the bobby pins from his pocket, pinning the lilac fascinator in place, noting with a grin how perfectly it matches his blouse, cravat, and the stones of his brooch. “Why would I be angry?”
Basch snarls under his breath and he looks like he wants to wring Roderich’s pretty neck. “You know what I mean. You look like this is yoga day.”
“Tch.” Roderich grabs his clutch, sliding the wristlet strap to join his bracelets. “I have no plans on seeing Antonio today, it isn’t even his day to work. He has classes right now.”
Basch swallows an aggravated scream as he follows Roderich out to the car, Gilbert and Elizaveta falling into step behind them.
“It’s that!” Basch scolds, sitting in the back with Roderich and Elizaveta while Gilbert takes the front passenger’s seat and Ludwig quietly pulls the car out of the garage.
“What’s Basch complaining about this time?” Elizaveta asks as she touches up Roderich’s makeup and straightens his top out.
Roderich shrugs, “Apparently me joining an exercise class and enjoying it is illegal now.”
“No,” Basch emphasizes, “it’s the fact that you know that your hot yoga teacher isn’t at the gym because you know he’s in class for most of today. You’re obsessed.”
Roderich narrows his eyes at him, tapping one pastel purple nail on the car door. He tries to make light of the accusation, attempting to joke his way out of it. “Of course I am, you’ve seen how attractive he is.”
“Toni does have a nice ass,” Gilbert offers from the front seat, “almost godly.”
Roderich’s neck cracks to look at Gilbert. “How the hell do you know?”
Gilbert’s lip picks up in a toothy smirk. “Communal showers.”
Roderich chokes back a jealous hiss, the sound growing loud and sharp when Basch flicks his forehead.
“Would you stop obsessing over the civilian alpha?!?”
“Would you prefer I ‘obsess’ over a mafia one instead?” Roderich snarks back, arms crossing over his chest and Elizaveta tuts over the wrinkles the motion may cause.
“Maybe?” Basch blushes, changing his mind. “No! We don’t need some strange asshole coming in and trying to take over from you.”
“Lovely to know how you really feel, Sebastian,” Roderich mockingly coos. He leans towards his oldest friend, his scent pouring off of him thick and cloying, smelling like chocolate cake and strawberries as he dances the pads of his fingers onto Basch’s shoulder. “Are you just jealous because it’s not you I want?”
The beta’s face burns red with humiliation and he glares out the window over Roderich’s shoulder. “Shut up, Roderich.”
Roderich laughs, booping the tip of his nose and pulling back to fix his hair.
It isn’t long after that that Ludwig drives the car up to the gates of Weissand Race Course, dropping the four of them off and pulling the car away to park it in the VIP parking spots. Elizaveta makes one last adjustment to Roderich’s outfit, pulling out what few wrinkles formed during the drive and fixing that one stubborn strand in Roderich’s bangs that refuses to be tamed by hair mousse and brushing.
“Thank you, Eliza.” The omega checks his makeup in his compact one last time, snapping it shut and shoving it back into his clutch when he’s satisfied nothing smeared.
She shoots him a grin but falls silent. It’s always best to be quiet when walking onto a battlefield. Roderich sets the pace, marching forward, the heels of his short leather boots clicking smartly against the pavement and inside on the stone floors of the building.
Inside the center there’s a bustle of people, omegas keeping rambunctious pups close while their alphas laugh and rib each other on what horses will win today and who to bet on. Excited scents bubble around them, leaving the air as bright and shiny as champagne in a crystal flute.
A breath of a purr whistles out of Roderich and he smiles at seeing so many enjoying his racing facility. With a hand he gestures for Gilbert to come to his side, the alpha reads the motion and offers his elbow to Roderich.
“What a gentlealpha,” Roderich murmurs out the side of his mouth as he slips his hand in the crook of Gilbert’s elbow. Gilbert snorts as he places his hand atop Roderich’s.
“Thanks, Priss.” The albino alpha scans the room, gently squeezing Roderich’s hand whenever he sees one of Adnan’s men on their way to the upper event room. Six squeezes. Good thing most of the employees that work here are a part of Roderich’s Family.
By the time they all go upstairs, Ludwig has rejoined them in time for the event room doors to be swung open. The room is beautiful and has been furnished to Roderich’s taste with creams and indigos and a modern crystal chandelier that looks like a cascade of rain. The chairs and tables arranged for viewing the race course are all mahogany and dark fabric that’s tough yet still luxurious.
The chair with the best view of the race is already occupied, filled by a mountain of a man. There’s only been one alpha that Roderich has met that’s larger, but even that’s debatable. While bratva leader Ivan Braginsky is above Adnan’s weight class, the debate on which is taller is still on the table.
Roderich releases Gilbert’s arm, distractedly petting through his hair to go to Adnan’s side. The alpha stands when Roderich reaches him and the two shake hands, though Sadik is quick to stoop into a bow and kiss the back of Roderich’s well-manicured hand.
“A pleasure to finally meet the head of the Edili Clan,” Adnan’s voice rumbles over him and Roderich’s inner omega picks its head up, curious. The alpha has a strong scent, cloves and oud and something like a smokey incense, all very pleasing. It’s a scent then makes Roderich feel a little sluggish and tired if he breathes it in too deep.
Wary, Roderich smiles back. “The honor is all mine, Don Adnan.”
“Sadik, please.”
“Roderich, then.”
They trade smiles filled with blood. Sadik gestures for Roderich to sit, which he gracefully does, the omega glancing at the time.
“It seems the race will be for another twenty minutes yet; I hope I haven’t kept you waiting for too long?”
“Not at all, Mj. Roderich.” Sadik sits next to him. Their people mill about in the event room, murmuring greetings to each other and waiting for the enemy to draw a gun or knife first. “I’ve been enjoying all this facility has to offer. The tour of the stables earlier was quite interesting. Four hundred years old, no?”
“That is correct, and it came into my family one hundred fifty years ago during a card game.”
“Ah, any insider stories with that?”
“My ancestor cheated.”
Sadik’s laughter roars out of him. “I take it the original owner was a fool?”
“According to sources, he was an honest beta. My ancestor, she was not an honest omega.”
“Ironic, when your last name is Edelstein.”
“Not so ironic, I think,” Roderich sniffs, “pretty rocks have always been a favorite thing to collect in my family.”
“You do have quite the black market on gems,” Sadik readily agrees. “A market I’m interested in.”
“Oh?” Roderich holds a hand out, Elizaveta pressing a flute of champagne into it. Roderich takes a sip and hums. Mm, a light moscato and deliciously bubbly. “Buying, or selling?”
“Why not some of both? I also have some pretty art that I think you would like for your many homes.”
“You know how to tempt, Sadik.” Roderich’s eyes shine, his inner magpie tendencies cawing and flapping its wings at the thought of more shinies to collect.
“Then I hope I can tempt you more,” Sadik’s smirk is lascivious and while very charming, plucks a flat cord from Roderich.
“It seems the race is about to start, have you placed any bets?”
“Just one, on number ten, ‘One Thousand Knights’. His odds seemed good.”
“He is a favorite,” Roderich agrees, taking another sip from his glass, “my bets are on number eleven, ‘Up in Smoke’ and number two, ‘El Cid de la Luna’. They’re two of my favorites.”
“Any particular reason?” Sadik questions him, now sipping from his own glass of champagne.
“Up in Smoke is a colt I bought two years ago and this will be his first official race. El Cid de la Luna, however, is one that was produced with one of my own mares and this will be his third race. He’s already proving to be one of my best colts I’ve produced.”
“Ah, so favoritism,” Sadik jokes and Roderich titters a laugh.
“If it’s any condolence, Sadik, A Thousand Knights is a good-looking horse. Good confirmation, if a bit high-strung. And a green jockey.”
“That’s the main reason, isn’t it,” Sadik looks almost delighted by this tidbit of information, “your jockeys are experienced.”
Roderich shrugs, a secretive smile on his face as the bugle sounds. Everyone snaps to attention and takes their seats, both inside and outside the event room to watch the race. The crowd cheers as the horses are released from the starting gate, and Sadik and Roderich are no exceptions.
Under a bright sun and a windy day the horses fly down the length of the dirt track, Roderich cheering as he sees El Cid in his favorite position near the back and Up in Smoke towards the front, just behind A Thousand Knights.
In the home stretch Roderich’s standing and screaming as his two favorites break into their second wind and El Cid passes every horse to take the win, A Thousand Knights behind him and Up in Smoke finishing fourth, a horse named ‘No Second Chances’ taking third place.
“Well picked,” Roderich grins up at Sadik who stood and joined in on his cheering, shaking the alpha’s hand. He lets out a quiet yelp of surprise when he’s pulled into a hug instead.
“Congratulations on your wins, Roderich,” Sadik pulls back to look him in the eye, Roderich’s neck craning painfully to meet his gaze. This alpha really is too tall. As much as Roderich can appreciate the height difference from a hypothetical standpoint, in practice? Even this isn’t worth it.
“Thank you,” Roderich carefully withdraws red-faced from the alpha, fixing his cravat as they both retake their seats. “I hope your bet was that A Thousand Knights would place in the top three?”
“Unfortunately no, I went all-in on him placing first.”
“A pity,” Roderich croons, deliberately softening his sharp edges that want to rub Sadik’s loss in his face. “But back to business, hm? I want to hear more about how you wish to tempt me.”
Sadik chuckles. “Of course. I was hoping to talk more about trading. I have some opiates I think would do well here, and I hear that your weapons are top-quality.”
“A fine proposition,” Roderich bares his teeth in a hungry smile. “Let us talk some more.”
Roderich’s people bring up appetizers and later a supper as the two mafia dons talk business, talking over a rich dish of goose and wine, moving from topics of drugs and guns to people and art, and finally, their own mutual protections.
“I’ll admit to you, Roderich,” Sadik caresses the omega’s name like a promise, “that a large part of the reason why I wanted this meeting is for the possibility of forging an alliance against the might of the British Empire.”
Roderich’s eyes darken at the mention of the main branch of the United Kingdom’s underworld.
“Kirkland’s been getting too powerful.”
“Especially since one of his adopted sons is now engaged to Braginsky.”
Roderich’s heart drops. “Is it confirmed?”
“I have an inside source.”
Roderich raises an eyebrow and wields his next words like a sword. “I see. You planned to propose to Alfred but Braginsky got there first, hm?”
Sadik chokes, putting his silverware down onto his empty plate. “While the Golden Prince is a pretty thing, I’ve always preferred amethysts.”
“Really?” Roderich dabs at his face with a napkin, wary of accidentally smudging his lipstick. He grabs out the tube from his clutch and reapplies the rosy shade and checks it with a look in his compact. “I had no idea you were into Finnish alphas.”
Sadik places his hand on the table and drums his fingers in a line once, his rings glinting. “It does not suit you to act so obtuse, Roderich.”
“It doesn’t? I thought you preferred innocence.” Roderich flutters long, dark eyelashes at him.
“Ha! We all know any innocence you claim you wear is nothing more than a facade, Roderich.”
“Then why are you asking?” Roderich blinks at him twice, and decides to be daring, voicing what Sadik has been after since that first phone call. “Unless you plan on retiring but still have the desire to keep an eye on the underworld through a marriage with me?”
Many in the room briefly freeze before acting like they didn’t hear a thing. Gilbert is the one to move forward, topping off their water glasses and he glances at Roderich without looking at him. The omega’s scent is even and mostly has floral-omega notes of his scent gently wafting around him like clouds, edelweiss and a quiet edge of dark chocolate.
“I don’t plan on being the one to retire.”
“Neither do I.” Roderich’s stare flattens and Sadik has the dawning look of someone realizing that he’s not staring down a grassy hill to climb but a mountain face, snow-capped and icy the entire way up.
Sadik drums his fingers on the tabletop again. “Even in the face of the British Empire and the Bratva uniting?”
“If the only way you’ll consider an alliance with my clan is through marriage, I have plenty of cousins I can offer you instead.” Roderich coolly offers, “perhaps you would like Laura or Luca? Or Daniel, he’s a lovely omega most alphas seem to appreciate the look of, or at least his legs.”
Sadik thinks for several long moments. “One of those beauties could definitely work. Are you sure your neck isn’t up for grabs?”
“You’re positive you don’t plan on becoming my househusband?” Roderich shoots back, his tone wry and a little amused, like a giggle or two is trying to escape him.
“I’m sure,” Sadik sighs as he huffs a laugh. “It’s really too bad; I think we would have been good together. Unless you’re refusing me because there’s someone else?”
This time Roderich really does laugh, clicking his tongue at the end. “If there was, you would have to become part of my harem,” he jests, “and stay at home, taking care of the pups before dolling yourself up for me and having my slippers and robe prepared, as well as a home-cooked meal on the table.”
Roderich has to pinch his thigh under the table to keep from daydreaming about Antonio doing precisely that.
Sadik laughs loudly, entertained by Roderich’s joke that’s less of a joke than the alpha realizes.
“You’re a funny one, Roderich.” He gulps his water, his dark eyes continuing to shine with mirth. “But I notice you didn’t deny my claim.”
Roderich holds both his hands up. While he’s wearing rings, none are on his ring fingers.
“No ring, my dear Sadik, and there is no one I am seeing at the moment. I am as free as a bird.”
There’s the barest narrowing of the alpha’s eyes at Roderich’s wording but the alpha shrugs and drops it. “I suppose it doesn’t matter. You will not have me unless I become yours completely, and you will not be mine because I cannot have all of you. What selfish creatures we are.”
“We are responsible for more than ourselves, it’s to be expected that we are a little more selfish when it comes to what we invite into our beds.”
“Wise words, Roderich.” Sadik stands and Roderich mirrors him, the two shaking hands. Sadik holds onto Roderich’s as he looks him in the eyes, sweeping over his fair face once more with his dark, dark eyes. “I will be in contact in the coming weeks for one of these possible engagements.”
“I look forward to it.” Roderich squeezes a little harder, his sharp nails threatening to break Sadik’s skin. “I’m expecting the traditional year-long courtship.” This stipulation is non-negotiable.
“Of course,” is Sadik’s suave response, firmly pulling his hand away, Roderich letting him go without drawing blood. “Until next time, Roderich.”
“Until then, Sadik.” Roderich and his men watch the Turks leave and the silence remains with them until Roderich and his main team are back in his car, careful of any bugs Sadik might have left in the event room.
“Well,” Elizaveta starts, “that went better than expected. I was sure a knife was going to come out at some point.”
“Is your faith in my diplomacy that low?” Roderich tuts, examining his nails. “I suppose I’ve had less patience as of late-” Gilbert’s loud snort interrupts him and Roderich shoots him a glare “-but I didn’t think it would cast that much doubt on the meeting.”
This time, Basch snorts. “Roderich, we all thought you were going to stab him when he kept hinting about marriage. Especially when he was trying to figure out if you have someone.”
“Someone,” Elizaveta adds, “like your himbo yoga instructor you want to go mommy-dommy on.”
Roderich gags. “While those words may be terribly true, that does mean they should all go together at the same time!”
“But you admit they’re true!”
“Elizaveta,” Roderich grumbles, pulling at the bobby pins in his hair to get the fascinator out, “I am going to toss you out of this car and have Ludwig reverse-”
“And then have him drop you off at the gym?” She suggests, a full shit-eating grin on her face.
“He’s not even there today!”
Everyone in the car bursts out laughing, Roderich throwing his hat at Elizaveta’s face. The she-alpha catches it, continuing to howl as tears prick the corners of her eyes, one hand uselessly wiping away at them.
Arms crossed over his chest, Roderich sinks low in his seat and grumbles, “whatever, just take me home.”
The laughter of his lieutenants slowly dies down until only the sound of tires on asphalt is the only thing that they can all hear. Closing his eyes, Roderich lets out a silent exhale.
In truth, he is pretty happy with how today went. A political alliance with the Turks, a possible marriage alliance with Sadik, and Roderich keeps his position as a Don while fortifying the strength of the clan against two foreign rising powers uniting.
There were no gunshots or knives today. There were no snarls or growls, no drawing of blood. Every one of his pack is safe with him, uninjured. Alive. Not bleeding out in a building meant for smiles and parties. They’re all still here.
Gilbert is the one to break the silence, turning around from the front passenger seat to speak to Roderich. “Soo… want me to say ‘hi’ to Toni for you when I see him later?”
Roderich’s shriek sends them all back into hysterics and though his scolding may sound angry, the scent of a happy omega couldn’t be missed in the confines of the car.
It’s a nightmare that Roderich is unable to attend more than two of Antonio’s yoga classes over the next month, but between arranging shipments with the Turks, there have also been a number of meetings between Sadik and the three omegas from his Family that he’d offered their necks up in marriage to the alpha that he’s also had to attend, if only as a chaperone.
Thankfully with Luca returning to college for the spring semester, that now leaves a gap in Roderich’s busy schedule on Tuesday mornings, which is when Antonio’s puppy yoga class is open. While Roderich prefers kittens infinitely more, to see Antonio fawn over any sort of baby is a dream come true in the omega’s eyes.
So here he is, back for his fourth class post the start of the Edili-Turkish alliance.
He’s missed this. Missed the rhythm of stretching as baby animals clamber around his feet demanding affection and a safe place to nap by his feet while Antonio’s smooth voice directs them through breathing cycles and poses. Missed the scent of tranquility and peace from his classmates. Missed Antonio’s orange-cinnamon alpha scent that’s sweet and sharp and refreshing, like a cool drink at the end of a long day that’s meant to refresh and revitalize the soul.
And Roderich does feel refreshed. He won’t lie to himself about it this time- it is all because of Antonio. Antonio, who he still wants to drag into his bed.
The class finishes with the Child’s Pose followed by the usual cool down, everyone quietly chatting as their hands pet over the sleeping puppies. Legs crossed (and not protesting the stretch!) Roderich pets down the back of a large, fluffy white puppy that has settled into his lap and is snoring away.
A gentle pad of feet and a hint of oranges has Roderich looking up, an unbidden smile on his lips as he looks into the prettiest green eyes he’s ever seen.
“Hello, Antonio,” Roderich says and is relieved he didn’t stutter like a fool this time.
“Hi,” Antonio smiles fondly down at him, squatting to join in petting the puppy, “this is the third class Roy’s curled up on your lap, he really likes you.”
Do you really like me? Roderich buries the question before it can jump out of his mouth like an escapee, ducking his head a little. “He’s cute,” just like you are, “but I don’t have a need for a dog.”
“No? That’s too bad, you look good with a little creature in your lap.” There’s the barest edge of teasing to Antonio’s tone, but Roderich can tell that it’s largely truthful.
“I think you’d look great when you have a baby- CREATURE,” Roderich’s cheeks bloom dark red, mortified at his freudian slip and desperately hopes Antonio might just think him a little strange, even as the puppy grumbles at his yell and glares up at him. Clearing his throat, Roderich tries to save himself and prays Antonio will be merciful, “you look great with baby creatures in your lap.”
Roderich dares to glance over at Antonio and with how the alpha’s mouth is twitching, he can tell no quarter is about to be given.
“Oh? Babies, you say?”
Antonio’s eyes sparkle with mirth and the image alone is enough to extend Roderich’s blush down his neck. It also furthers Roderich’s knowledge on the fact that Antonio’s a little shit.
“Yes,” Roderich stiffly replies, “babies. I daresay of all sorts.”
“Really?” Antonio licks his pretty lips, not too thin and not too plush, just right and pink and perfect- “what made you imagine me with ‘all sorts’ of babies, Roderich?”
The omega glares at the alpha though his own scent is nothing but sweet from being the focus of Antonio’s attention. “It’s obvious just from looking at you.”
“Obvious?”
“You’re an alpha teaching kitten and puppy yoga classes for all age groups,” he dryly states as he rolls his eyes. Roderich scratches behind Roy’s floppy ears, the puppy snuggling into his lap, though he’s quickly outgrowing the circle of Roderich’s legs. The truth tacks itself onto the end, “you’re also good with any children that are brought to these classes, getting them engaged with the activities without pushing them too hard.”
If Roderich hadn’t glanced up when he did, he would have missed the prettiest expression on Antonio’s he’s seen yet. His smile is not one of his large, sunshine grins, nor is it his commercial smile for dealing with troublesome students. It’s softer and the dimple that hides to the right of his mouth is just as bashful as the pink flush on his cheeks and his eyes, like the new green leaves of spring are darting from Roderich to just over the omega’s shoulder.
It’s the loveliest reaction he’s witnessed from Antonio to date. Roderich wants more.
“I’ll help you gather up the puppies,” he offers kindly, selfishly stealing every moment with Antonio, his handsome civilian alpha that he can.
“Like usual?” Antonio attempts to tease, his voice cracking on the ‘u’.
Roderich impetuously reaches for him before the alpha can try and make his escape, stroking down the alpha’s bicep. It’s a war with himself to remove his hand from the defined muscles and the heat of Antonio’s skin.
“Of course,” Roderich damn near purrs, a little smug to have even a little of his scent on Antonio. Taking a swift sip from his water bottle and using it to disguise his gaze, he tries to take a peek at Antonio’s rear, trying to discern the ‘godly’ ass Gilbert has described. Alas, Antonio’s wearing his worst pair of shorts.
The yellow ones. The fucking UGLY yellow basketball shorts with garish tribal swirls of purple, red, and orange down the sides and the baggiest pair Antonio wears to teach his classes. In fact, the only redeeming quality those fucking shorts possessed is whenever Antonio does a pose that causes the shorts to ride up his legs and reveal his muscular thighs, catching on the curve of his-
Roderich’s eyes widen then narrow as he makes a promise to himself. One day, he will see Antonio’s ass in its full glory, even if it requires theft and no small amount of bribery. Nodding once, he gathers Roy up in his arms and carries the puppy to its crate. Roy takes three tired steps into his crate before flopping down on the blanket inside and falling back asleep and Roderich gives a final pet down his side before locking the door.
It takes but a few minutes to gather up the puppies with Antonio, most of the little dogs all tuckered out from the excitement of the class. Roderich thinks they’re done until Antonio purses his lips, crossing his arms while one finger jumps from one crate to the next and he mutters to himself.
“We’re missing one.”
“Really? How many were there?”
“Twelve, we have eleven.” Antonio double checks again. “We’re missing Paco- he’s a Miniature Schnauzer.” At Roderich’s uncomprehending look, Antonio adds, “he has a beard.”
“Ah. I’ll check the room?” He offers as he strides further into the room, checking behind mats and around the bags.
“I’ll check outside in case he escaped.” Antonio’s scent wriggles out of him and while his face may be stern, Roderich can easily smell his worry. Before Antonio leaves, Roderich comes back and takes his hand, squeezing it. Antonio looks surprised by the contact.
“We’ll find him,” Roderich reassures him with a quiet omega croon and the alpha relaxes, responding to Roderich beautifully.
“We will,” Antonio grins, learning in as if to kiss or scent Roderich, the alpha abruptly pulling away when he realizes his actions.
A pity.
Antonio goes back into the main building while Roderich checks the yoga room over once more. It’s perhaps five minutes before Antonio comes trotting back in, a little black dog in his arms and positioned like a toddler on his hip, the little dog’s legs holding onto Antonio’s shoulder.
“Found him,” is the alpha’s proud crow, “he was sleeping in the desk receptionist’s lap. Little velcro dog.” Paco grumbles as Antonio puts him down but otherwise goes willingly into his crate, curling up and huffing. “Funny little guy.”
“At least he didn’t completely escape.”
“True,” Antonio claps Roderich on the shoulder, “thanks, again, for helping me look.”
“Anytime,” Roderich rubs where Antonio touched him and wishes he could tattoo it into his soul. “Do you have any other classes today?”
“Nope!” Antonio beams as they both collect their bags. “Sally’s going to drop the dogs off at the kennel today, so I get to have a little bit of down time today. One of my clients cancelled their personal lesson so I now have time for a siesta before I get to go back to the drudgery of studying.”
“My sympathies,” Roderich tries not to giggle and fails like a school girl in the presence of her five-year crush, wringing the strap of his gym bag in a death-grip.
“I’ll take those any time.”
Roderich’s giggles turn into a full laugh. “Since we’re both leaving, shall I walk out with you?” Roderich offers, holding the door for the alpha.
“I feel like our roles are reversed,” Antonio ruefully comments, ducking his head a little as he readjusts the gym bag’s strap on his shoulder.
Roderich can’t help his grin, feeling like the cat that’s cornered the mouse. “Is that a bad thing?”
“No. Not with you.”
Roderich catches a hint of red on Antonio’s ears and grins wider, watching to push and pull and cajole until Antonio’s a blushing mess. He would love to see that, and what other parts of Antonio might turn pink with, is forced to the surface.
Hearing the familiar purr of his car, Roderich turns and it’s pure luck he sees the silver flash of a gun muzzle in the window of a black van driving in the opposite direction.
Being attacked is not the surprising part. Being attacked in broad daylight on a busy street is unusual, yes, but it’s not the first time. The unusual part is that the gun isn’t pointed at Roderich- it’s pointed at Antonio. Antonio, who still hasn’t seen the threat.
Divine providence must be at hand for Roderich’s car to pull over just as there’s a spray of bullets targeted right at them, Basch swinging the backdoor of the sleek black car open.
“Get in!” The beta roars, getting out and firing back at their attackers.
It must be the yoga and the element of surprise that allows Roderich to push Antonio into the car, Gilbert pressing on the gas to get them out of there as two final gunshots echo behind them, Basch slamming the door shut.
A tangle of limbs, Roderich’s on top of Antonio and unable to get up, his face smooshed into Antonio’s sculpted pectorals. Not the time, Roderich. Hands on Antonio’s chest to push himself upright, Roderich cops a feel before he’s barking out orders.
“Get us to the main house now,” Roderich swings his legs to the side and if Antonio weren’t laying down on the floor of the car it would be more obvious that Roderich’s currently in his yellow-clad lap, “and get Lars, Johann, and Vera on the job. I want to know who the fuck was trying to kill the two of us.”
Basch has already whipped out his phone and he contacts those exact people as ordered, his voice low and urgent as he relays his don’s orders.
“What the fuck’s happening?!” Antonio squirms under Roderich, pinned by the hand the omega has braced himself with on Antonio’s chest. “Were those gunshots?!”
“Quiet,” Roderich pins the alpha with a glare. “Your questions will be answered soon.” When Antonio opens his mouth to argue, Roderich shoves his fingers in and hooks his bottom teeth. “Shush.”
Gilbert’s eyes meets Roderich’s through the rearview mirror when he looks up front, his white brows furrowed. “They were shooting at both of you? Are you sure?”
“They were aiming for Antonio first.”
The leather of the steering wheel creaks under Gilbert’s hands. “Fuck.”
“Yes,” Roderich tersely agrees. “We need to figure out who’s targeting Antonio and why. Is it just to hurt me? Or is it to ruin the alliance?”
Antonio grumbles around his fingers and tries to yank his head away, his sharp alpha fangs pressing into Roderich’s knuckles.
“Ah, excuse me.” Roderich removes his hand from Antonio’s mouth and wipes the slobber off on the alpha’s loose tank. He still hasn’t gotten off of his position of straddling Antonio’s lap, nor is he inclined to. Antonio’s thighs are thick and comfy.
Antonio braces himself on his hands to shove himself upright. His curls are a mess and he’s gone pale except for the high flush on his cheeks, his eyes bright with worry. He reeks of under-ripe fruit, bitter and green, the scent of an anxious alpha.
“What the actual hell’s going on?” Antonio demands, scrutinizing each of them with quick, jumping glares. “Gil?”
Red meets purple in the mirror, Roderich nodding.
“Hey Toni,” Gilbert greets him like they weren’t just shot at with the intent to kill, “we’re all in the mafia.”
“What,” Antonio asks, though it’s flat and the information is clearly coming out of left-field for him.
“Roderich runs it.”
“What???”
“It’s likely you were just shot at because of Roderich’s giant crush on your himbo ass.”
“WHAT?!”
“An ass I would like to see outside of those god-awful yellow pants,” Roderich adds, unable to help his amused smile as the scent of Antonio’s anger and stress ebbs into a milder confusion. "I will be burning those, by the way.”
“Huh!?!” Antonio grips the waistband two-handedly. “These aren’t that bad, are they?”
“They are.” Roderich measures him with a look. “You and Gilbert are of a similar height, you will borrow a pair from him once we reach the main house.”
Antonio gives him an odd look at the assertion but ends up shrugging, baffled. “Okay then. Uh,” he fidgets under Roderich, “are you going to get off my lap?”
“No.”
Antonio blinks at him. “We should really sit in the seats and get buckled in.” Under Roderich’s flat glare Antonio tries, “uh, you know- ‘don’t commit a misdemeanor when you’re committing a felony’?”
“And what felony am I committing, Antonio?”
“Eh, ah, kidnapping?”
Roderich tilts his head. “I suppose that’s not inaccurate.” He scoots out of Antonio’s lap and onto the corner seat, forcing Antonio to sit in the middle between him and Basch.
“So,” Antonio clears his throat, “the mafia.”
“Yes,” Roderich reaffirms.
“You run it?”
“I do. I am the head of the Edili Clan.”
“Edili Clan,” Antonio quietly echoes, hands gripped into the silky fabric of his shorts. “And the reason you’re not dropping me off on a random street corner is because…”
“Do you want to get shot at again?” Basch scolds. “Because we definitely can and then attend your funeral tomorrow.”
“Alright!” He holds his hands up in surrender as he gulps. “What are you guys going to do with me then?”
“I am taking you to my main house, and there you will stay until we get rid of whoever’s trying to kill you.” Roderich meets Antonio’s eyes head on, reaching out to take one of Antonio’s fidgeting hands and giving it a comforting squeeze.
“Why would you do that?” Antonio leans in and for one breathless moment it’s just the two of them in the car.
“Gilbert wasn’t lying about my crush,” Roderich confesses and he’s then blessed with Antonio flushing a lovely cherry red color. He wants to see him in every shade of red possible.
“I’d be killed just because of a crush?”
“If it means I would be compromised for even a day, many would do so much worse.”
“Just a day, huh?” Antonio murmurs, Roderich leaning into his space until there’s a scant two inches between them.
“It would have been more than that if the shooters had succeeded today.”
Antonio flusters as the scent of a territorial omega fills the back seat, a rare thing to smell. It’s a heavy mixture of flowers, like an oil that’s been derived from the blossoms and made into a perfume to be bottled and worn.
Roderich’s grateful that Gilbert and Basch know not to say a damn thing in case Roderich stabs them for interrupting his time with the alpha he plans on claiming.
“Don’t worry, Antonio. I have no plans on letting any of my rivals succeed in killing you.” He squeezes his hand again, one thumb brushing the back of Antonio’s large tan hand. “I’ll ensure that you are protected.”
“I feel like our roles are reversed,” Antonio says and it’s an echo from earlier.
Roderich’s grin is smaller this time as he repeats himself. “Is that a bad thing?”
“Considering? Nope.” Antonio’s smile dimples and Roderich wants to kiss it. “I do prefer living.”
Live with me, for me, and I’ll be yours, Antonio, Roderich thinks but does not say.
Tires rumble over gravel for a time as the rest of the drive passes in near silence, Roderich noting the slow return of Antonio’s worry-scent. Needing to keep the alpha soft and compliant, Roderich does a crooning purr meant to calm pups and alphas, continuing to pet Antonio’s callused, warm hand that’s still in his grasp.
It’s a quiet purr entirely for Antonio, Roderich watching in satisfaction as the alpha’s eyes hood and he instinctively settles at Roderich’s side. Roderich absently supposes it would be too soon to wrap an arm around him and play with those curls of Antonio’s the way he’s wanted to since forever, but now- Now Roderich has all the time in the world.
The car comes to a slow stop at the front door of the house, Roderich leading Antonio out of the vehicle by the hand, Basch joining them as Gilbert parks the car in the garage.
Inside the house, it’s not quite a mansion but it certainly is spacious and pretty, all cream colors and dark greens with antique furniture that all add warmth to the open space of the first floor.
“Pretty,” Antonio remarks, looking around the home in middle-class slack-jawed wonder.
“Thank you,” Roderich preens. Antonio looks good in here, in this home Roderich has made for himself with all the things he likes and makes him happy. A door softly shuts and a moment later Gilbert’s rejoining them.
“Everyone’s up to date on what happened and are all looking into who might be responsible. Anyone else is keeping up with daily operations.”
Antonio makes a curious noise that Roderich ignores. Antonio doesn’t need to know about the drug and human trafficking.
“Excellent, thank you Gilbert. Now take Antonio to shower and lend him some of your clothes, would you? I want him out of those shorts while I have my own calls to make.” Roderich pulls the albino in by his sleeve to briefly whisper into his ear, “make sure he looks good for lunch.”
“Ja,” Gilbert dips his head with a chuckle, motioning for Antonio to follow him further into the borderline mansion. “C’mon Toni.”
“I-” Antonio glances back at Roderich. “Okay.” He follows Gilbert away and Roderich just barely picks up on Antonio asking if his yellow pants really are that bad.
Once they’re out of sight, Roderich flops on a nearby chaise and sighs, letting the tension drain out of his body.
“I thought you were going to quit with this obsession,” Basch criticizes once they’re alone.
Roderich hums. “It doesn’t matter anymore. I didn’t let him be shot and now everyone knows that I have a heart. A heart that can hurt, stolen, and killed.” He lets out a slow breath. “If my heart he is to be, then I’ll keep him by my side, under lock and and under key.”
“How poetic of you, Roderich.” Basch straightens out the cuffs of his jacket, as he always does when work needs to be done. “I’ll go see what help the investigative team needs.”
“Thank you, Basch.” Roderich’s purple eyes cut to him, a dagger on a bed of velvet. “Find them. Find the ones that would dare try and kill my heart.”
His lieutenant nods, a fierce green fire in his eyes and Roderich purrs at the scent of his bloodlust. His Family has always been good at what they do, and this time will be no exception. They will find out who ordered the hit on Antonio and they will make the fuckers bleed.
For a time Roderich lays on the chaise, forcing his nerves back into submission; else he makes someone undeserving of his temper bleed. Abruptly he rolls onto his feet and strides purposefully for his room, taking a brisk shower and pulling on a long, pretty indigo sweater and pants that toe the border between slacks and leggings and are illegally comfortable.
Primping in the mirror, it’s a good look on him as he weighs who might have done this and the most likely culprits.
The investigative team will undoubtedly have thought of these individuals already, but they may find an outlier Roderich hasn’t thought of.
The first suspect to come to mind is Sadik. Though they are in the initial negotiations for an alliance, Roderich can still see how the alpha desires to lay with him and if he’s discovered the existence of Antonio, Sadik’s jealousy may drive him to go after Roderich’s future.
Roderich’s second suspect is Kirkland, or possibly his heir Matthew. Maybe even one of the Bratva themselves. If they’ve heard of the possibility of the Edili-Turk alliance, that may have driven their own budding union to strike them to keep their own growing power secure. Afterall, Alfred and Ivan are not yet married.
Then, there are the Italians. The Italians that Roderich is still holding the possible union of Ludwig to Feliciano over their heads in an attempt to keep their strength against the British Empire-Bratva Alliance. Roderich can easily picture Romano ordering the attack if it severs the alliance with the Turks or pressures Roderich into committing into an alliance with the Italians.
They are the three most likely candidates as to who attacked them, and Roderich is going to pull teeth and rip out all the nails he has to to get to the bottom of it.
On socked feet, the omega skips back downstairs and beams when he sees Antonio waiting for him at the base.
He looks good. Very good. Gilbert’s white button-up fits him nicely, if a little snug in the chest area and the pants- oh goodness, the pants. They cling to Antonio’s thighs and shapely calves, far better than this pair does on Gilbert. Roderich spins his finger, an impatient noise on his tongue.
“Come now, let me see you.”
Antonio huffs, amused as he slowly turns for Roderich, arms held loosely at shoulder height for Roderich to see the line of his shoulders. However it’s his butt that calls like a siren to Roderich's eyes.
Gilbert was right.
It is godly.
A layer of fabric over it and it’s still the best thing Roderich’s ever seen. Round as a bubble and yet it’s still obvious that Antonio’s two glutes are pure muscle that it’d be easy as flipping a coin to bounce a dime off of it.
Roderich wants to squish it so, so badly. He wants to sink his teeth into Antonio’s buns, mark them up as his, only his, never anyone else’s-
Roderich, tying Antonio onto his front, bent over for Roderich to play with. Smearing oil over his olive skin, his cock red and weeping though no attention will Roderich give him there, no-no. Instead, Roderich will open up his hole, teasing him open with toys and fingers until Roderich plunges into him, an extender on his own tiny omega cock in a reverse breeding-
Roderich shakes his head, blinking rapidly as he returns to the present. “You look nice.”
“More than nice,” Antonio raises an eyebrow at him, Roderich more than a little mortified to realize the air around them reeks of omega arousal.
“You do,” Refusing to show any weakness, Roderich trails his eyes up and down Antonio’s body once more, fire following gunpowder. Antonio’s resulting blush leaves Roderich smug as he takes the alpha’s hand. “Come, Elizaveta has prepared lunch for us in the dining room.”
Antonio can’t help but follow along in this strange place, taking in the large paintings in the hallway and the lights that refract through the crystals that dangle from most of the light fixtures. Opulence screams from every corner and the dining room is part of the pretty picture Roderich’s chosen to live in.
Roderich takes an obvious seat at the head of the table, the omega gesturing to the chair on his left. “Sit, please.”
Antonio sits, the hairs on the nape of his neck sticking up. This feels like a trap.
“Ah, what- what are we having?” Antonio picks at the buttons on his shirt cuffs, undoing them and rolling the sleeves up to his elbows as he grows warm. He’s unsure why though- is it the stress? Roderich’s flirtations? The fact that he’s gone from being shot at to taking a shower and now having lunch- all of his racing thoughts are slammed to a halt like a horse’s bridle being yanked to the side.
Antonio’s purrs are forcibly started as Roderich rubs gentle circles around the scent gland on his right wrist, endorphins flooding his system.
“Easy,” Roderich purrs, taking control of the situation. “You’re safe now; you’re in my home and no one can get to you here.”
“You keep saying these things like that. One might mistake you for an alpha.”
“What, you don’t think omegas can be possessive?” Roderich raises a skeptical brow at him. “You think I wouldn’t do all I could to protect everyone I consider ‘mine’?”
“That’s not what I’m saying-”
“But isn’t it?”
Antonio hates how amused Roderich continues to sound. Like Antonio’s stupid and Roderich knows something he doesn’t but should.
“No,” Antonio emphasizes. “There’s a difference in your willingness to protect your family and how you claim you want to protect me.” Both of them ignore the people that come in with side dishes and then set down the main dish of Backhendl, Roderich stabbing a piece onto his fork. “How exactly are you going to do that? Protect me, that is, when it sounds like the reason this all happened is- kind of! -your fault.”
Roderich’s scent, which had been sweet with omega arousal and joy, turns sickly sweet like overripe fruit. The omega presses his tongue into one of his fangs as he tries to keep his wrath under control.
“Let us eat first, hm?” I think we’re both too hungry to continue this conversation without satisfying our stomachs first.”
Antonio opens his mouth to argue and a whine comes out instead as Roderich mercilessly digs his thumb nail into Antonio’s scent gland. It’s not even for a second but it felt like ten. Ten, long, bruising seconds. Antonio shuts his mouth and eats, staying quiet until Roderich finishes his plate.
Dabbing at his mouth with a napkin, the mafia don then turns to him with a beatific smile.
“How was it?”
“The food was good, my compliments to the chef,” Antonio praises. “But I still want the answers to my questions.”
“Of course.” Roderich steeples his fingers. “You wanted to know how I might protect you, hm?”
“Si,” Antonio narrows his eyes, “and what’s the cost for your protection?” When both of Roderich’s eyebrows fly up, Antonio scoffs. “You run a mafia and nothing ever comes free. What do you need, a runner? A seller?”
“Considering both of those positions would put you in the danger I’m trying to keep you out of, absolutely not.” Roderich leans forward in his chair and tilts his head to the side, acting as if he’s harmless. Merely a pretty swan, and not something that can hit you with all the force of a baseball bat. “What I want is simple. I know you want to finish your college degree, and you shall. I’ll have one of my men watching you at all times.”
“Generous, but you are avoiding what’s on the price tag.” Antonio crosses his arms over his chest and catches where Roderich’s looking. “My eyes are up here, querido.”
“Perhaps that’s my price,” Roderich leans in, braced on his chairarm.
“Que?” Antonio’s arms loosen in surprise.
“You want to live, you desire my protection, and you find me attractive, correct?”
“I-”
“Do not lie to me, Antonio.” Roderich presses in and Antonio can’t help but fall into his violet eyes and his floral scent that has once more gentled into something light and intoxicating. “Just tell me yes or no.”
“Yes,” Antonio says like a man hypnotized to walk into the sea with no release word. “Yes to all three.”
Roderich beams, “then my cost should be of no issue. All I want is for you to stay with me. Live in my home, enjoy my food and be part of my family.”
“That sounds like a proposal,” Antonio murmurs, his brain sluggish as Roderich pumps out more omega pheromones before his own alpha ones can even think to challenge what Roderich’s doing.
“It does, doesn’t it?” Roderich can’t help the giggle that escapes. “You’re so pretty, I wouldn’t mind it.”
“Not pretty,” Antonio protests. “I’m handsome. Sexy.”
This time Roderich does laugh, “you’re those things too, Antonio.”
The alpha purrs, chest puffing up as the omega strokes his ego, but then- then, something’s wrong. The world is listing to the side and gray fuzz prickles at the edges of his vision.
“Wha- qu-” Antonio slurs as everything fogs around him.
“Gilbert, Basch,” Roderich calmly calls, the two coming in just in time to catch Antonio from sliding out of his chair.
“You drugged him? Why? How?” Basch scowls at him, confused.
“Don’t worry, he’s just a little drunk on my pheromones and a mild sedative. I didn’t think both together would be enough to knock him out, but it seems his mind needs the rest.”
Basch hums, skeptical.
“Where do you want me to put him, Roderich?” Gilbert readjusts Antonio’s arm around his shoulders, Basch mirroring the movement as they get him out of the chair.
“We’re putting him in the Green Room,” Roderich folds his napkin and puts it on his empty plate, striding forward to lead them to where he wants Antonio. He can scent both of their surprise, but where better to put Antonio than in the room connected to his with its own hidden door to the main house?
Roderich is not arrogant enough to suspect there isn’t a traitor in their midst.
It’s a short walk and Roderich’s lieutenants are gentle in placing Antonio on the bed, Gilbert kindly removing the house shoes Antonio was wearing.
In the quiet of the room, it is Basch that speaks first.
“You’re not planning on letting him leave here, are you.”
Roderich blinks. “What a silly thing to say. Of course he won’t stay here, I travel plenty and he’ll need to join me on my trips.”
“Kind of harsh to lie like that, huh?” Gilbert’s brows go up to his hairline. “Saying you wanna marry him when he’s going to be more your pet than anything? Not to mention if you’re bringing him on trips, he’s never going to be able to leave this life, have that civilian job he’s always dreamed of.”
Be away from me. Roderich’s heart jumps into his throat, but that’s impossible now. Now, his heart is snoozing on a bed of satin and velvet, dark and light green sheets wrapped around an alpha so beautiful he can be nothing but Roderich’s greatest treasure. To have his heart gone-
“This world is harsh, and no throbbing heart will ever change that.” Roderich coldly informs Gilbert and Basch. He goes to Antonio’s side and pecks the corner of his mouth where Antonio’s dimple hides, like he’s always wanted to. “Farewell, my dear. Until tomorrow.”
Roderich walks away, shutting the door to Antonio’s new quarters and locking it behind him.