Please Divorce Me, Alpha! {BL}

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Two days after the cake incident, I found myself back in my cell.

Though, let’s be real, calling it a cell felt a bit unfair...my ’room’ had an antique bed, silk curtains, its own bathroom, and furniture that probably cost way more than my future could ever afford.

But still, the door was always locked from the outside, I couldn’t leave, and meals came at specific times with someone watching me. If it looks and acts like a prison, I’m just going to call it a prison.

It was as if they had the feeling that I would likely run away, given the opportunity and resourses.

I was sprawled out on my bed, wrapped up in a horror novel, completely lost in the story and giggling at how dumb the characters were, when something black caught my eye through the window.

I looked up just in time to see a limousine pull through the gates.

And not just any limousine...this one was long, sleek, and shiny, reflecting the afternoon sky like a polished mirror.

It looked so expensive, it made me feel a little guilty just for staring at it.

It parked right in front of the mansion and three guys stepped out.

I watched from behind the curtain, and they were all in dark suits. None of them seemed hurried or in awe of the mansion, which was strange.

Usually, when rich people visited the Sinclair estate, they looked like they were entering a museum they were eager to see.

These guys, though? They looked like they’d seen better places and probably had bigger houses.

Then I spotted my dad rushing out of the house. I nearly dropped my book, Richard Sinclair doesn’t run. He probably thinks walking fast is beneath someone as high and almighty as him.

Yet here he was, practically sprinting down the steps with his suit jacket flapping like crazy.

He reached the men and immediately started bowing, shaking hands, and gesturing toward the house with an enthusiasm I’d never seen directed at me.

I cringed, seeing my father so happy and excited disgusted me somehow.

I squinted through the glass. ”What’s wrong with his knees?” I muttered.

The sight was almost poetic. My father, who could bring a room to silence just by clearing his throat, was suddenly acting like a nervous salesman trying to convince royalty that his used car was in great shape.

I leaned closer to the window. Those three men looked important...really important. Several thoughts raced through my mind.

Either Dad had struck a huge business deal overnight, which seemed unlikely given his recent choices...or they were here for an omega.

I sighed. Of course. Why would the universe give us good news when it could instead throw an eligible Alpha our way?

My thoughts drifted towards Blair.

Of course it was her...they love to marry off beautiful, obedient women who know how to smile while quietly judging everyone around them.

If those men were here looking for a bride, it was probably her. I couldn’t even blame them. I didn’t even know their names, but I already felt sorry for whoever had to join this family.

I watched my dad usher them inside, and then the doors closed behind them. I lingered for a moment, then smiled.

”If they take Blair, maybe I could have some peace and quiet.” I know it’s a terrible thought, but I meant it.

Returning to my bed, I picked up my book and settled in under the blankets.

The heroine was trapped in a haunted mansion with a murderous ghost, which honestly felt relatable. At least her ghost didn’t control her bank account, eating habit or ability to use the the internet.

For almost an hour, the house stayed unusually quiet.

I kept reading, flipping pages. Just when I was starting to think the visitors were just there to admire my dad’s pricey art collection, I heard footsteps approaching my door.

Sighing, I heard a click of the lock and a maid stepped in.

”Mr. Sinclair.”

I lowered my book. ”Yes?”

”Your father requests your presence downstairs.”

I stared at her. ”Does he request it or require it?”

She hesitated for a second. ”Require it.”

”Figured as much.”

I held my place in the book with one finger. ”Did he say why?”

”No, sir.”

Of course not. Information seemed to be another luxury I wasn’t allowed. I got out of bed, straightened my shirt, and followed her downstairs.

The moment I stepped into the sitting room, I knew something was off. Blair was crying, which wasn’t anything new to be honest.

And not just any crying, this was Blair crying...there’s a difference.

Regular crying involves tears; Blair crying means perfectly arranged tears, trembling lips, and red eyes, as if she’d lived through every tragedy ever.

It was almost inspiring, how she had perfected the art of crying on command just to get someone (most likely me) in trouble and not even having any interest of being an actress.

She was beside my stepmother, Lydia, who had one arm around her precious daughter protectively.

My dad stood near the fireplace, looking furious. Not just irritated...furious.

I stopped in the doorway, taking in the scene. Blair, my stepmother, then Dad.

I glanced behind me. No one else was there. ”Did I miss something?”

Dad’s eyes shot toward me. ”You.”

I pointed at myself. ”Me?”

”Come here.”

I walked slowly into the room. The air was thick with my stepmother’s overpowering perfume mixed with Blair’s sweet omega scent, not to mention the heavy tension radiating from my father.

I stopped a few feet away. ”What did I do this time?”

I had been in my best behavior for the past couple of days, in hopes that dad would finally decide not to stop grounding his adult son.

Dad stared at me, torn between yelling and throwing something.

Then he blew up. ”You insulted the son of the Castelli Syndicate Don, didn’t you?”

For a second, I stood there blankly. I insulted...who now?

Then the memory hit painfully. Whitish-blond hair, green eyes, black suit, sunglasses. My cake that i was still mourning and... Dracula.

Oh.

Oh no.

Dracula was a Castelli?!

Holy shit, I’ve really gone and done it again this time...

I felt my face go pale. ”I—”

Before I could finish, Dad crossed the room and slapped me so fast I barely had time to react.

Pain exploded on my cheek, and the room tilted. I stumbled, hitting the carpet.

For a moment, all I could hear was the ringing in my ears. Then Dad’s voice came back.

”What were you thinking?!”

I pushed myself up onto one elbow. ”I d...didn’t even know who he was!”

”You humiliated him!”

”I didn’t know!”

”You stood right in front of him and insulted him!”

”I was angry!”

My voice sounded strange to me...too shaky, too small. That was what I hated most. I could handle pain; I’d learned to deal with it.

But fear? That made me feel like the child I’d tried so hard not to be.

”Do you have any idea on what you’ve done?!” Dad grabbed my shirt and yanked me up. ”The Castelli family knows who we are now! You put us under their radar!”

I swallowed hard.

”They’re dangerous people, Alex!”

”I...I know that now.”

”You think this is a joke?!”

”No.” I shot back immediately. ”No, it’s not.”

His expression twisted. ”I always knew you’ve always wanted to ruin this family! Nothing would have made you happier than humiliating us and seeing us in ashes, even if you get burned as well!”

I almost laughed...not because it was funny, but because it was so ridiculous that I couldn’t help it. Sure I hated their guts, but I would never try to hurt them.