My Father Sold Me to a bunch of Crazy Alphas

I have no home.

I have no family anymore.

And I am trapped with a psychopath who might skin me alive one of these days.

What to do?

First on my checklist is to win his trust.

If I had his trust, I could gradually put space between us until I could make it out. Get outside where it is crowded and full of people.

How to?

I can't suddenly act sweet or in love. He'll catch on. He is not stupid.

But I can't be me either. It will only make it worse. 

I noticed after my heat that his patience ran thinner than a starving Victoria's Secret Angel.

He keeps going outside since morning and stays out until midnight. When he is home, he runs like a rat in the basement.

I can't go there.

Not because it's under lock and key. But-

Thousands upon thousands of omega skin in jars-

Just floating in whatever colorful acid he thought it would make the flower on it pop off more.

It's a graveyard used as decoration.

Yet-

If I am not going there, he'll continue to avoid me. And I can't keep hoping that means he is losing interest in me.

I hear him at night. 

Mumbling.

Whispering to himself.

I can feel how he is hovering his hands on my waist- just in the air, without touching.

He doesn't cuddle me anymore. Or sleeps next to me most nights.

I just hear him muttering sounds that only he knows what they mean.

It pisses me off.

At least before I knew what he was about:

"Hey, look at me, I am Emiliano and I only want to torture Luther and make him a blood supply. Like I am a vampire. My favorite parts of the day are flirting like an idiot and starving him. Hahaha"

Not to mention he is too dang handsome to be acting like that. Ugh!

I tried to grab his attention. 

I made breakfast in the morning and this time I didn't even spit in the pancakes.

He grabbed the plate and ran back to the basement. Gave me a peck on the cheek as a thanks.

Excuse me? Are we divorced?!

He won't even look at me anymore. And I know that sounds crazy- wanting the psychopath to be hot and bothered for you.

It's Stockholm Syndrome 101.

But -

Let's be rational:if he's still attracted to me, he'll pamper me. Spoil me. Maybe even slip up. That's my window.

Sure, now the door is unlocked and the guards are gone.

But-

Last time it was this good to be true-

Last time I ran away instead of being permitted to go-

Lior died.

I can't-

It's not a safe option. I need to be offered freedom. I can't grab it again at the cost of someone else bleeding.

So, I did what I had to do.

I put on a shirt from Emiliano. It was supposed to fit loosely, maybe with a shoulder reveal. A little tease to throw him off balance.

But we wear almost the same size. So that went out the window fast.

Nobody thinks a grown man in his underwear and a tight shirt is hot. It's the opposite.

So I went with the next best option: my abs and a towel, freshly out of the shower.

Destination: Emiliano's rat cave. The graveyard of his exes.

The cold air hit my spine harder and harder the further I went down. The fresh air became full of chemicals and fear.

It's fine. I'm fine. Just nerves. But if I don't stop shaking, he'll see right through me.

I finally reached the door.

He was sitting at his desk, surrounded by paperwork. Reminds me of myself when I had an actual job that wasn't being the playtoy of a deranged scientist.

I cleared my throat trying to get his attention. It echoed too harshly through the cellar full of glass.

Couldn't he be more of a TV psycho and collect wine instead of human skin?

"I want a date."

My tone was sharp and I was nailing the indifferent act.

The only flaw?

I was colder than a popsicle. The trembling of my body was no longer from fear, but from the frozen air.

Emiliano didn't look at me. Just raised a brow.

"What are you on about, puppy?"

I came closer. No, I nearly ran there and pushed down all his paperwork.

If I need to throw a tantrum for you to finally see me, then be it.

Emiliano shook his head slightly with a smirk.

He shifted in his chair. Leaned back with his arms crossed and nothing but curiosity on his face, I could finally see a spack of Emiliano that I know.

Emiliano I could control.

"I want a date."

"We could watch a movie tonight."

"No. I want out."

"Luther."

"I want to go out. At the movies. At a restaurant. At the park. To feel some sunshine. I am morphing into a cockroach!"

He got up.

With a soft touch, he moved my arms around, tapped my legs, turned my head from left to right.

"You don't look like a cockroach to me."

"I'm bored"

How pathetic I've become. A full grown 24-year-old reduced to a pout.

My Parliament colleagues would have had a field day with this one.

"Such a first-world problem. Would you have preferred to be sent back to the white room?"

"Like you wouldn't miss me."

He can't hear my heartbeat, right? Please, please, please, abs do your magic! Distract the bad wolf until I save the grandma-

I mean myself.

He gazed at me for a moment. Felt like an eternity. His eyes were calm, still honey-like. Good.

I don't want to be there when they become red.

"Hmm. Have I neglected you, dear wife?"

"You could have been more appreciative of my breakfast."

Good. Good. Trap him in his illusion of marriage.

"They don't taste like spit anymore." he hummed dramatically.

"You're welcome."

"I think I liked them more before." 

His low tone against my ears made me shiver. Did I just blush?

Have I completely gotten out of my mind?

Well, at least I am not cold anymore. The shame and embarrassment are such a budget-friendly way to keep warm.

"Fine. Where do you want to go?"

"Really?"

He raised a brow. Too much of the dumb impressionable act? Got it.

"I want boba tea and a walk. A long walk."

"Are you a child?"

"Are you a grumpy old man with rheumatism? What's wrong with a walk and a sugary drink?"

A moment of silence.

"Next time I'll ask for a trip to the Bahamas." I mutter.

He let out a tired chuckle.

Oh? So you think I'm funny?

"Fine. I have some business tomorrow outside. If you'll sit tight like a good boy in the lobby and wait for me, we'll get you your diabetic drink and the long walk."

"I want the drink first."

Another low chuckle.

Maybe there are still lingering pheromone effects, because it keeps giving me goosebumps.

"Since when are you so demanding?"

I carefully swipe a hair strand after his ear. He seemed rather intrigued than thrown off balance.

"Since I know you'll comply. You know, like a good boy."