Between Masks and Passions The CEOs Secrets

Alina´s POV

"My back burns like it's on fire. If someone had told me some time ago that I would be in this kind of pain, I would never have believed it. Now, chained in this dungeon amidst my own blood and vomit, I wonder how I got here. How can a man who claims to love me do this to me?

Today is one of those busy days for me-the day to con yet another poor guy who's taken an interest in Samia. Lucky for her, since she keeps such a private life, they barely know her face at those dances she complains about, the ones her father forces her to attend. But that's the deal. I have to help a friend, especially when she pays me ten grand a date.

Something feels different today, though. A weight sits heavy on my chest. I pop one of my pills, hoping for quick relief from my anxiety. In the meantime, I gather my long brown hair into a ponytail, swipe on a light shade of eyeshadow to highlight my brown eyes, and apply a rosé lipstick that enhances my lips. The black dress I slip into falls just below my knees, hugging my figure with a discreet V-neckline.

The restaurant's black façade glows under the lights, creating a striking contrast that screams exclusivity. Inside, an impeccably dressed host greets me and leads me to a table bathed in soft, strategic light. He offers me water, which I gladly accept-I need to calm my nerves.

The ambiance is refined. Wooden walls adorned with minimalist paintings, fresh flowers scenting the air, plush velvet chairs, and crisp white tablecloths. The soft hum of jazz plays in the background. Samia is lucky, I think, trying to steady myself.

A voice slices through my thoughts. "That perfume of yours isn't fooling anyone, hybrid."

My body locks up, the water catching in my throat as a man slides into the seat across from me. His brown eyes fix on mine, unwavering. I try to maintain my composure, but there's something in his gaze-something that strips away my defenses.

He has that effortless, dangerous charm. Tall, easily over six feet. Lean but muscular. His dark brown hair is neatly styled, his features sharp and commanding.

"Good evening," he says, voice smooth but edged with something else. "I'm Alpha Marco, and you're not Samia, Alpha Noah's daughter. But tell me-do you think you can play games with Alphas and walk away unscathed, hybrid? Don't you know what happens to those who try?"

The amusement in his tone unnerves me almost as much as his words. My pulse kicks up.

"I'm sorry," I murmur, pushing up from my chair, desperate to leave. But his voice halts me.

"Sit down. I didn't say you could go."

His smile is small, knowing. Reluctantly, I lower myself back into my seat.

"Look, I was just... helping a friend. I'm not a threat to you or your pack. I swear, you'll never see me again." My voice wavers, my hands curling into fists beneath the table.

He watches me, savoring my discomfort. My stomach churns, fear tightening around me like a vice.

"No, you're not a threat," he says, voice dropping to a near whisper. "But you're something far worse."