The Alpha Behind The Mask-Chapter 42: Hit

Aurora’s POV

​The force of his hand across my face was so sudden and violent that my phone flew from my grip, clattering onto the pavement. My head snapped to the side, my vision exploding into white spots.

​"You—" I gasped, clutching my burning cheek, but he didn’t let me finish.

​SLAP.

​The second one hit my other side, splitting my lip instantly. The metallic taste of blood flooded my mouth.

​"How dare you disrespect Dom Raymond?" he hissed, his voice low, as if he didn’t want anyone to hear him. "Do you have any idea who he is? You’re just a stray cat he took an interest in. You don’t throw things at a King."

​A king? King of the mafia... king of assassins? What king?

​He didn’t stop at slaps. He drove a fist into my stomach, and I felt the air leave my lungs in a silent scream. I collapsed to the cold, damp ground, my head spinning as the concrete scraped my knees. Then came the boots. He kicked me in the ribs—once, twice, a third time—until I was curled into a ball, coughing and gasping for breath.

​"Consider this a lesson in manners," he spat, before his footsteps retreated back toward the club’s entrance.

​I lay there for what felt like hours, though it was likely only minutes. My whole body was a map of agony. I reached out, my fingers trembling as I found my phone. The screen was shattered—just like my hope that I could ever truly escape this world.

​I forced myself up. My ribs screamed, and my stomach felt like it was on fire, but the anger was stronger than the pain. I have to report him.

​I stumbled back inside the club. The transition from the dark alley to the neon lights made my head throb. As I moved through the crowd, I felt the eyes on me. The music seemed to stutter. I was a bloody, broken mess in a room full of perfection.

​I ignored the whispers and the confused looks. My eyes were locked on the VIP booth. Dom Raymond was still there, but the moment he saw me, his posture changed. He didn’t just stand; he vaulted over the table, his movements blurring with a speed that was terrifyingly familiar.

​He reached me in seconds, his large, gloved hands hovering near my face, shaking. Through the mask, I could see his green eyes—wide, frantic, and filled with concern.

​"What happened?" he rasped, his voice full of worry mixed with anger. "Who did this to you, Aurora? Who?"

​He sounded so much like Alpha Oliver in that moment—so much that it made me want to scream.

​"You sent him!" I spat at him, the blood from my lip staining his gloves as he tried to touch me. "Your man... he told me I was disrespectful. He did exactly what you wanted, didn’t he? Is this your punishment for rejecting your gift?" 𝘧𝘳𝘦ℯ𝓌𝘦𝒷𝘯𝑜𝑣𝘦𝓁.𝒸𝘰𝓂

​I didn’t stay to hear his denial. I turned away, the manager already rushing toward me with a frown.

​"Aurora, go home... you are causing a scene."

​My heart broke. Was that all he could say? I was injured and he didn’t care to know what happened or who did this to an employee; rather, he was sending me home. Was the mask Dom this powerful? I knew I was fired. I didn’t care.

​I limped toward the exit, my vision blurring with tears of pain and rage. But as I pushed through the heavy doors, I looked back one last time.

​Dom Raymond hadn’t followed me. He had the masked man—the one who had hit me—by the throat. He had slammed him against the marble pillar with such force the stone cracked.

​I stood frozen for a heartbeat, my hand on the heavy brass handle of the exit door. Through the ringing in my ears and the throb of my split lip, I heard it. The man being crushed against the pillar—the one who had just broken my ribs—gasped out a plea that stopped my world.

​"Alpha... please... I was doing it for you!"

​The word hit me harder than his boots ever could. Alpha. My breath hitched, a sharp pain stabbing my side. This man... this assassin... this masked Dom who had stalked me and haunted my nightmares... he was an Alpha? My eyes widened, fixed on Raymond’s towering form. My father’s killer—the man responsible for the raid that destroyed my life—was an Alpha. The realization sent a wave of nausea through me. Which pack? And if he was an Alpha, how could I ever hope for justice? He was untouchable.

​Raymond noticed me staring. His green eyes flashed with a brief, panicked recognition before he turned his fury back to the man in his grip. With one brutal, sickeningly powerful punch, he sent the attacker’s head snapping back. The man went limp instantly, unconscious before he even hit the floor.

​Panic finally overrode my pain. I turned and sprinted—as much as my battered body would allow—out into the humid night air.

​I didn’t get far.

​Before I could reach the sidewalk, a shadow blurred past me. A heavy, gloved hand clamped around my arm, spinning me around. I cried out, my ribs screaming at the sudden movement.

​"Let go of me!" I yelled, my voice raw and cracking. "Stay away from me!"

​"Aurora, listen to me," he said, his voice thick with a desperation that sounded so agonizingly like Oliver’s. He didn’t let go, but his grip was careful, as if he were holding shattered glass. "I didn’t send him. I had no idea. I would never... I would never let anyone lay a hand on you."

​He looked genuinely worried, his chest heaving under his expensive leather gear. But I couldn’t hear his excuses. All that was ringing in my head was that word. Alpha. My mind was racing, trying to connect the dots. If he was a King, an Alpha, then the power he has was insane.

​"Just fucking let me go."

​I tried to wrench my arm back, but he refused to loosen his hold. "You are hurt," he rasped, ignoring my words. "You’re bleeding. I have to take you to the hospital, Aurora. Now."

​"No! I’m not going anywhere with you!" I fought him, but every struggle made my vision go black at the edges.

​"Fine," he groaned, his patience snapping under the weight of his concern. "Then I’m taking you home."

​"I said no—"

​Before I could finish, he moved. In one swift, effortless motion, he tucked his arm under my knees and the other behind my back, lifting me into the air. I yelled, my fists feebly thumping against his broad, armored chest. "Drop me! Put me down, you monster!"

​He ignored my screams, his stride long as he carried me toward a sleek, black car idling at the curb. He looked down at me, the green of his eyes burning through the mask. "Scream all you want, little bird. But you aren’t walking home with broken ribs. Not on my watch."

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