William could only remember being this furious a few times in his life. But never like this. Never in this… primal way.
His mind, usually sharp as a scalpel, had gone blank when he saw Erika shrink onstage. That image continued to hammer his skull with brutal force. His omega. Humiliated, hurt, exposed.
(Breathe… breathe) he told himself internally, practicing one of his repair exercises, tensing and relaxing his jaw. (Focus. Find a distraction. Or a goal.)
And then he heard it.
A name, spoken on the other side of a half-open door. Erika. Followed by a male voice, nervous, exasperated, pleading with someone on the phone not to hang up.
Bingo.
William stopped dead in his tracks. He turned his head, approached the dressing room, and without hesitation pushed open the door, storming in with the firm stride of a king entering territory that already belongs to him. His red eyes were fixed on the young alpha holding a cell phone.
"You. What's your name?" William's voice wasn't raised. It didn't need to be. The dry, uncompromising tone, which allowed for no hesitation, was enough.
The brunette jumped, clearly startled. His eyes widened with a mixture of surprise and fear.
"E-Elias. Elias Efton... sir."
William didn't blink. He didn't break eye contact for even a second. He walked toward him, closing the distance deliberately, like a predator approaching its prey without bothering to hide.
"So, Elias," he said, his voice deep. "A few minutes ago, I heard you mention Erika on the phone. So I'm going to ask you this once: what kind of relationship do you have with her?"
The atmosphere in the dressing room tensed like a rope about to snap. Elias swallowed.
"I'm just... I'm the band's guitarist. An acquaintance. That's all."
William stopped in front of him, close enough to impose his presence without touching him. He analyzed him in detail: his body language, his forcedly neutral voice, his glassy eyes. He wasn't lying... but he wasn't telling the whole truth either.
And then, without looking away, William spoke.
"Bentral," he called, with the same lethal calm a general would use on a battlefield.
His subordinate, steady as a shadow at his side, answered immediately.
"Sir."
"Please locate Albares and make sure he doesn't think running away while we're gone is a good idea, until we're finished with our conversation."
"Understood," Bentral nodded, turning on his heel and simply closing the door behind him.
William returned his focus to Elias, who seemed to be growing more tense with every second.
"Let's get something straight," William said, lowering his tone, becoming even more dangerous for how controlled he was. "Erika Belion was humiliated tonight in front of a crowd. An omega in obvious vulnerability. And you, as a so-called 'acquaintance,' as a so-called 'bandmate,' did absolutely nothing."
"I… was backstage," Elias tried to justify himself. "I didn't see the exact moment; I only heard it when it was too late."
"And that excuses you?" William tilted his head slightly, his gaze intense. "Does that make you less responsible? Or just more useless?"
Elias clenched his fists, lowering his gaze slightly.
William leaned forward slightly, his tone turning almost gentle, as if speaking to a child about to be taught a very painful lesson.
"If you're worried about Erika, then you'd better start showing it with more than just missed calls," he whispered, razor-sharp. "Because if she's ever in danger again, and you're around… and you fail again…"
Silence completed the threat.
And Elias understood, nodding with marked nervousness.
"Okay... one last thing." William's eyes blazed with an authority that couldn't be avoided. The guitarist could barely breathe under the pressure. The air between them had become so thick it was almost cut. "Listen to me carefully, Elias. What was said in this place never happened. This conversation didn't exist. If anyone else finds out we talked about Erika, I'll know. And if that happens... You won't even have the chance to regret it."
He didn't raise his voice. He didn't need to. The words, spoken in that controlled tone, seared themselves like fire into the young alpha's mind.
"Understood," Elias murmured, barely audible, his lips dry and his face pale.
William nodded briefly, satisfied. Then he turned away, gathering his thoughts with surgical precision.
"That's all for now. You may go," he said with the coldness of someone discarding a momentarily useful tool.
Elias didn't have the order repeated. He left the dressing room without looking back, the invisible weight of the threat hanging around his neck like a noose.
As soon as he closed the door, it immediately opened again. Bentral entered, this time dragging by the arm a man he perfectly recognized: Albares, his information provider and the man who also owed a considerable sum.
"Ah, Mr. Aballay! You certainly put on a show in the hall," he said with a nervous chuckle as he extended his hand with theatrical enthusiasm. "Quite a show of dominance!"
William didn't even look at him. His rejection was so absolute that the outstretched hand hung in the air like a ridiculous act. Albares lowered it awkwardly, letting out a small cough to hide his discomfort.
The smile he'd been wearing before evaporated as he noticed how William was finally looking at him... but not politely. He looked at him like a surgeon assessing a body on a table: coldly, knowing every vulnerable point.
From a young age, William had developed a ruthless talent for reading people. The microexpressions, the postures, the silences. Albares wasn't difficult to decipher... just more pathetic than usual.
"Sit down," William ordered, without raising his voice.
To his dismay, Albares did so, wobbling slightly before sinking into the chair, his back stiff as a board and a strained smile that no longer convinced even a child.
The alpha took a step closer. The temperature in the room seemed to drop.
"So... you were among all those offspring I silenced," William murmured, narrowing his eyes. "Tell me, don't tell me you were one of the most enthusiastic with your opinions?"
Albares froze. A drop of sweat trickled down his temple.
"No, no, of course not... never!" I would never participate in something so… so barbaric as denigrating an omega in her most… deplorable moment. I…
William raised an eyebrow.
"Vulnerable. It's vulnerable, not deplorable."
He slowly stood up and stood before Albares, towering like a dark mountain. This time, the other's smile evaporated completely.
"And it's funny you should say that… because I swear I recognized your voice in a very particular insult."
"There must be some kind of mistake… I swear…"
"I could train you very well, pup… you're a very pretty pup," William quoted with surgical precision.
Albares gasped. His face twisted in a spasm of panic as his eyes flew to Bentral, who silently positioned himself in front of the door and, with a metallic click, locked it.
William took a step closer, leaning slightly toward him.
"I think in addition to collecting what you owe us... I'll have to collect what you said so freely," he said icily. "So... how about half a million for each damn word?"
Silence fell like a death sentence.
And William just smiled, but it wasn't a friendly smile.
It was a warning.