Help! the four Alpha's are obsessed with me.-Chapter 199 Scars that can’t heal I

Before a huge mirror, a towering figure stood meters apart, checking his body. His abs were highlighted by disturbing scars formed from severe, near-death experiences.

His shirtless figure was one to fight for, muscles that screamed of years of workout and effort. Tracing his hands over the dark marks left behind on his chest and stomach, his mind went back to how he had survived after he and Daniel were kidnapped.

Even after rescuing Daniel and risking his life for him, he had been brutally shot at the river bank and left like trash to die alone. But he had been lucky.

The doctor himself couldn’t believe it when Alexander opened his eyes. All hope had been lost; it had been confirmed that his chances were slim—so slim they were closer to one percent than zero. But he still beat all odds, scrambling for his life. He couldn’t let himself be killed when Daniel needed him so badly.

Leaving his sweetheart was out of the question. He knew he had to survive.

That scene still haunted him. If the beast who did it had been alive when he reached Daniel, he would have flayed him alive for revenge, for all the misfortune he had suffered at his hands. The torture had been the most brutal, and it was still fresh, as if it were yesterday.

Alexander McQueen clenched his fist and jaw at once, teeth gnashing.

"Well, fuck that. It’s in the past, after all." He grabbed his shirt from where it hung loosely on the back of a chair and pulled it on, walking over to where the two babies were.

Lamia and Liam were both watching him with curiosity. He smiled, seeing they hadn’t cried—which was a miracle.

"Daniel, what’s taking you so long? I am not a babysitter. This is traumatizing." Sure, he enjoyed taking care of his adorable ones, but he still needed rest. All through the night, he hadn’t slept a wink. Not only had they decided to give him a marathon of tears, but screeching too, forcing his eyes to stay open until dark circles hung under his blue eyes like an omen.

"Okay, papa is here. What should I get for you people?" He tickled them one by one, and they began to laugh uncontrollably, cooing in the process.

Alexander joined in the laughter. Watching him, you would completely forget he could be a scary man; he took care of the babies as if it were his sworn duty.

"Let me get you some yummy milk to suck on." He dashed out, retrieving the feeding bottle from the sink. When it was in his hands, he smiled in satisfaction.

"I can’t believe I actually made this milk." Before he perfected it, he remembered pouring it out over and over until it was just right for them.

Tasting it hadn’t been a choice—it had a sour taste that didn’t work for him. But they were babies. If they enjoyed such a terrible thing, what else could he do but feed them?

Returning, he saw the two babies touching each other’s cheeks. He watched from afar, imagining what their lives would be like when they grew up. It wasn’t the thought of losing their childhood days that haunted him, but the realization that they wouldn’t always be so dependent. The normal teenage dramas were coming, but he didn’t want that for his family.

He wasn’t saying he wanted them to be helpless—just that he hoped they would share their burdens and trust him and Daniel to guide them. Unfortunately, some parents lacked that. He wouldn’t.

Is this really me? Daniel has really changed me. Whoever told me I’d be babysitting would have been killed back then, he thought.

Not only had he never been a fan of little ones, he’d despised babies for no reason—their crying, fussing, and whining. The ironic part was that Daniel had decided to hand him the job, not knowing this side of him.

Leaving the corner, he approached and squatted before them, handing them the bottles. They sucked viciously.

"Yeah, that’s right..." He sighed, trying to reminisce about his own childhood, but his mind was blank, almost as if it had never been there. He tried, but nothing came, so he let it go.

"That’s weird, come to think of it. I never really knew what happened in my childhood—only that my parents were murdered by the Lancasters and nothing else." Alexander reasoned but finally let it go.

As he got up to sit in a chair close to the crib in the sitting room, he heard a clicking noise.

What was that? It felt like a break-in. Inside his mind, he prayed it wasn’t—he didn’t want the poor babies to see something they shouldn’t, and if it was a break-in, he himself would go feral.

"This is what I was fearing. Who knows why Daniel and the others aren’t back yet? This is a terrible idea and might ruin all our happiness," he complained, but still got to his feet, slowly drawing the gun he kept pocketed in his boot.

One thing about Alex was that he never went anywhere without weapons. Even when comfortable, it was a habit. He wouldn’t make the mistake of being caught unprepared—unable to stop something he could have, just because he hadn’t carried a weapon.

Alex began to roll the crib, walking side to side, eyes narrowed as he tried to reach the house alarm to turn it on. How could someone get in without the alarm tripping? It was impossible.

Then it happened: the alarm at the door began blaring, echoing so loudly that Alex rushed to turn it off completely.

"Fuck, that’s too loud." Realizing he was using curse words around the kids, he shut his mouth instantly.

A crack came from behind. He turned sharply, gun aimed toward the sound. His reflexes were fast—he could outpace an enemy easily. He was trained for this, for fuck’s sake.

What greeted him was the glass breaking apart. Something like a metal ball dropped from the window into the sitting room.

Alex shifted his balance at once, moving backwards and pulling the crib with him.

That was bad. They were on the highest floor—enemies coming from there was zero. But why did it feel like this intruder had come through the window? And wasn’t that a bomb?

"No!! I have to get out of here—" At the same moment, a match was thrown through the window. Immediately, the sitting room began to catch fire.

Alexander sprinted without warning, leaping with the two babies in his arms. The stunned cuties were confused, but Alex didn’t stop to calm them down. He dashed to the door.

Should I open this? He wondered. A threat might be waiting outside to finish him with gunshots—but with his babies here, that was not happening.

Smashing the door with his foot repeatedly, it jerked violently. Just as he predicted, two assassins stood at the doorstep. Luckily, the door slammed into them, freezing them as their faces took the hit. 𝒇𝓻𝓮𝓮𝙬𝙚𝒃𝒏𝓸𝙫𝒆𝙡.𝓬𝓸𝒎

Now, taking his gun, he shot both of them at once—but as he did, he covered the babies’ eyes.

"I’m so sorry, loves, but papa will protect you." His aim was perfect. Their heads blasted open with a heavy thud.

Seeing them lifeless, he sprang out, running at great speed, clutching his babies tightly to his chest.