"Wait a moment, Alpha William... please, let me explain." Albares pleaded, taking a couple of steps back. "I didn't know that young woman was your omega. If I had known... I would never... I would never have dared..."
The alpha choked on his own words as he saw the dark-haired man's brows begin to furrow; every part of that expression screamed that he was walking on brittle ice. Desperate, he changed tactics. He fell to his knees with a thud and clasped his hands.
"And as for what I owed you... Please understand... I'm a family man. I'm in a difficult situation. I made bad decisions out of necessity... I needed to bring money home..."
William breathed slowly, closing his eyes for a moment. He hated these moments. Begging was easy when the water was up to his neck. Most debtors believed a few tears and an excuse would be enough to soften him up. In the early years, she'd found it interesting, even entertaining. But over time, the same cheap theater became... monotonous.
Tears. Regrets. Empty promises. Always the same.
He didn't know what awaited him after stealing, lying, and besmirching his family's name.
Forgiveness? Compassion? Did they think they were dealing with a priest?
"From what I understand." Xander intervened coldly, crossing her arms, uncomfortable by the scene before her, "you're divorced and don't even pay child support. I don't know what you hope to accomplish by lying in the face of those who could kill you with a look."Albares looked at her in panic, his voice caught in his throat.
"You're not going to get anywhere with excuses." the beta continued with a sigh. "Do us a favor and accept your situation."
"Bentral." William ordered without taking his eyes off Albares, "remind our friend how much he owes us."
"Let's see." the blond man replied with a humorless smile, taking out a small electronic notebook. "Mr. Albares owes the Aballays a full month's back rent, the protection fee for his business, and the logistical costs of his private export... plus interest for each late payment. That's $450,000."
Bentral looked up and smiled sadistically.
"But if we add the fine for disrespecting his omega in public... we're talking $6,450,000."
A frozen silence fell in the room.
"Wow... that's quite a sum." William muttered, examining his fingernails as if he were talking about the weather. "Do you have at least part of it? Let's say... $980,000, as an advance. A token of goodwill."
Albares shook his head in despair, stammering denials.
"No... I don't have anything... please, I swear, I don't have access to that amount... not now..."
William looked at him with that mixture of boredom and impatience that made his blood run cold.
"In that case..." he simply snapped his fingers. "We'll proceed with the traditional method."
Xander and Bentral pounced like shadows. Each grabbed one of Albares's arms, crushing his calves to the ground with a force that immobilized him. The man shrieked, but couldn't move. His pheromones filled the air, saturated with fear.
"Mr. William, wait! What does this mean?"
The black-haired man didn't respond immediately. Completely calm, he pulled a small, very sharp metal clip from the inside pocket of his trench coat. He turned it between his fingers as if assessing its weight, its potential. Then he looked up, his gaze as cold as steel.
"You see, Albares... in business, when debts exceed a certain limit, there are alternative forms of payment. And the body." he said gently, almost didactic, "is one of them."
"You knew I..."
"I always knew you wouldn't bring a cent." William interrupted with a shrug, as if talking about the weather. "I was willing to leave you alone for a while. Maybe with a few symbolic marks. You might even have been useful for certain favors if you'd shown a modicum of humility. But instead… you decided to open your damn mouth at the worst possible moment."
William slowly crouched down in front of him. It wasn't a position of closeness. It was one of the contained threat. His eyes, cold and calculating, bored into Albares's as the clamp descended with almost surgical slowness.
"Relax… I won't render your body useless. I take care of my investments. At least, until they're no longer worth anything."
The clamp's jaw opened with a slight click, just before closing precisely around the man's knuckle. Bentral gripped Albares's arm tightly, forcing his fingers apart. The high-pitched scream he let out echoed off the walls, accompanied by the wet crunch of flesh pressed to its limit.
"See this as a lesson. Not because of the debt." William added in a level voice. "That can be fixed. This... is because of your lack of respect. For speaking as if you were a man with the right to mock what doesn't belong to you."
William didn't need to watch what he was doing. He kept his eyes on the ceiling, calculating. It wasn't a mutilation, but a warning. Just the right amount of pressure to inflame, deform, and leave a mark that would hurt every time he tried to move his hand. Albares sobbed, his pheromones permeating the air with pure terror.
Albares sobbed; her pheromones permeated the air with pure terror.
.
.
.
When he removed the tool, he simply wiped it with a tissue, as if he had handled a kitchen tool.
"That's all for today." he stated emotionlessly. "Next time... it'll be the teeth."
Xander, expressionless, handed a bottle of water to the collapsed man.
"Hydrate. You're going to need strength if you plan to keep walking tonight."
Bentral released his grip abruptly, and Albares fell like a rag to the floor, panting, crying, muttering empty promises.
William stopped in the doorway. He didn't turn around, he didn't relent.
"From now on, you will never mention Erika Belion's name again. Not to your friends, not to your associates, not to anyone. Not a single word. If you do..." He turned around slightly, his voice lowered, sharp and final. "I'll know."
And as if nothing had happened, she crossed the threshold. The door closed with a sharp click, dragging with it the little air that remained in the room. Albares remained on the floor, alone, trembling, with the echo of his mistake marking his body... and his debt, more vivid than ever.
.
.
.
"Hugh!"
The wet, unpleasant sound broke the silence that had remained after the lesson. In a corner of the dressing room, Xander was vomiting violently.
"Relax... we all throw up the first time." Bentral said calmly, patting her back, staying close enough to comfort her, but not invading her space too much.
"Hugh!... Really?" Xander raised his head, still pale, but with a spark of hope in his watery eyes.
"Hmm... some. The minority." the blond replied through gritted teeth, looking away at her reaction, with awkward but genuine discomfort.
"If you're done flirting, it's time to get out of here." William said sarcastically, leaning against one of the walls while wiping the blood from his knuckles with a small purple rag. His bored tone contrasted with the recent scene, but was no less threatening.
"We weren't..."
"It's not what..."
"Yeah, yeah, whatever you say." the alpha interrupted casually, dropping the bloody rag on the floor. "Whatever happens between you two, keep it between yourselves and away from work."
Xander and Bentral exchanged a quick glance, a mixture of discomfort and resignation, before silently following him.
With a calm stride and without looking back, William left the dressing room, escorted by his enforcers. Outside, the corridors of the bar were eerily silent. Every soul who passed through them instantly looked away, pretending to see nothing.
And with that, the Aballays left the club, leaving behind a scene of silent terror, broken bones, fresh blood… and a warning that would float for weeks in the darkest corners of the underworld.