La mascota rebelde del Don

She was Stefano's favorite tonight, his eager weight on top of her more suffocating than usual. He grabbed her throat with his Alphan force, and his other hand ran over the length of her entire body, touching her in places that hurt. In fear for her life, Francesca struggled.

"Just stay still, Francesca," her husband whispered hotly and he forced into her when she was far from ready. Francesca cried out but bit her lip at the last second, drawing blood. 

"Wait, p-please." she rasped, tears gathering in her eyes. 

But her husband was barely paying any attention to her, assaulting her body mercilessly. The hand on her throat tightened inch by inch, and Francesca began to feel lightheaded. Her hands weakly clawed at him, thinking that she really was going to die this time if he didn't loosen his hold.

Finally, Stefano stopped, grunting in pleasure as he became one with the universe. Removing his hand from her throat, he kissed her forehead softly, "Shh...it's okay, baby," he said in his sated state. He then turned to the other side of the bed without so much as an apology.  

Francesca's breath hitched. Pain wracked her entire body. She wanted to cry out as she felt the agony reach her poor wolf, too. But just like always, she had no choice but to stay quiet and close her eyes, hoping for the sun to come up soon. 

***

“Cheska?” Carmel whispered, stirring Francesca from her sleep. Her caramel blonde hair fanned behind her, eyes heavy from slumber.

As the Alpha's newest wife, the Alpha didn't mind much when Carmel broke the rules. So the younger woman was allowed to crawl into bed with Francesca when Stefano arose. But Francesca knew it wouldn't be long before Carmel got mistreated, too. And it broke Francesca’s heart that the younger woman had to endure such misery just for catching Stefano's eye. It's far too high a price for something as fleeting as outer beauty.  

Francesca reached out to Carmel, tucking a stray hair behind the other woman’s ear. “Yes?" she softly replied. 

“We need to get up soon. You know Alpha Stefano doesn’t like it when we sleep in.” Carmel said. 

Francesca tensed at the sound of his name, her wolf stirring inside her. The reason for their pain.The reason for Francesca’s fragile sanity. The husband whom they share with two others. Every time he is mentioned, every bone in her body became useless, and her wolf always gave out a pathetic whimper of vulnerability. 

Despite her rising fear, Francesca managed to direct a smile at Carmel, “Okay," 

“Will you be able to make it through today, though? I heard...really loud noises last night. I thought---” 

Carmel paused, looking frightfully around the room. Francesca felt a rare flame in her heart. Carmel was only eighteen, her wolf barely functional yet. It was so unfair that she had to live this way. 

“Yes, of course. I'll manage somehow.” Francesca insisted softly. Her body felt like liquid, but she will persevere. For Carmel. The girl still did not know how to act around their husband, and she might do something that would enrage him. 

"Are you sure?" Carmel asked again. But before Francesca could answer, a soft knock sounded from the door. 

"Come in," Francesca called out softly.

Mira, Stefano’s second wife, peered inside the room, “He’s almost on his way. He’ll be expecting us all in the dining room. I suggest you both get ready.” 

“We’ll be there,” Francesca replied, wincing as she arose from the bed. Carmel cast her a worried glance, quickly wrapping a bathrobe around Francesca's naked form.

"Let's go," Francesca said, facing the full-length mirror beside the king-sized bed. She cringed at the marks on her throat, the evidence of her painful night with Stefano.

"Cheska," Carmel murmured behind her, "You're the bravest woman, I know. You know that, right?" 

Francesca nodded, unable to smile anymore. She would like to think she was. Truly. But it was getting harder to believe in it each passing day. 

***

The Dark Moon Pack’s leader, Alpha Stefano, hit the table with his enormous fists, the movement clattering the dishes on top of it. Francesca gripped the napkin in her hand. Her heart was threatening to beat out of her chest, just like it always did whenever a harsh sound met her ears. 

“That asshole Langdon was cheating again. He’s a disgrace to all Alphas.” Stefano snarled, referring to his early-morning poker game partner, Alpha Langdon Harris of the Blue Moon Pack in Queens. But Francesca doubted it was Langdon's fault. Aside from being the biggest thorn on his wives’ side, Stefano was also a terrible gambler. 

“Now, don’t go aggravating him, darling. You know he’s suspecting us.” Gianna, Stefano’s first wife, chimed in. Gianna was a dazzling woman in her twenties, with an hourglass figure and straight raven hair that hung past her waist. She was also the only one among Stefano’s wives whose opinions he seemed to value. 

“I didn’t do shit,” Stefano grunted, “I just made it clear to the bastard that I won’t stand for it the next time he plays with me. And he’s not suspecting us. As I said, he’s too stupid for that.” 

Alpha Stefano ran one of the most prominent mafia families in the Bronx. Such a profession was prohibited in the werewolf world. As peaceful creatures, their primary goal was to live harmoniously with humans, not stir chaos wherever they go. 

Francesca didn’t know how Stefano ended up in his position. She only knew that it was one of his most guarded secrets, and she deeply wished that someday, someone would find out and banish him for it. He would be more than deserving. 

Their brunch continued with Stefano yakking on and on, as usual, his voice echoing against the red-papered walls of the grand dining room. Francesca began to trail off. Gianna and Mira looked like they were far away, too. Unable to hold it in any longer, Francesca inadvertently yawned.  

“Am I boring you, girl?” the Alpha asked.

Carmel’s wide eyes met Francesca's as the latter realized her mistake. 

“I asked you a question!” Stefano bellowed, and within seconds, he was behind Francesca, his heavy hands wrapped around her neck. His nails turned black and razor-sharp, piercing her skin. 

“Darling, just calm down,” Gianna advised, but Stefano ignored her, his claws sinking deeper into Francesca's throat.

Blood dripped, staining Francesca's glorious white robe. Just then, her wolf snapped. It had been silently fanning flames of anger at Stefano and it now seemed ready to release them all at once. Suddenly filled with fierce strength, Francesca leaped at Stefano in her half-turned form, pushing her husband’s body into the ground. 

“Francesca, don’t!” she heard Gianna scream, but Francesca didn’t stop. She grappled with Stefano, both of them feral and fuming on the floor. But the Alpha was stronger, and soon enough, he had Francesca pinned beneath him. 

Stefano did not waste time delivering a massive blow to Francesca’s face, one hand wrapped around her throat. He then pulled her up against the wall, the structure cracking from the impact. Francesca’s wolf barely had the chance to cushion the blow to her skull. 

“How dare you attack me?!” Stefano roared close to Francesca’s face, his eyes twin embers of fury. There was also darkness in them, one that Francesca thought she just imagined at first. 

The temperature around the room dropped as another blow met Francesca’s face, followed by another. It took only seconds until another came, on and on, one after the other. Francesca felt her wolf go numb at the attacks, no longer able to protect her. And as Stefano threw her across the room, pulling back to deliver the final blow that she knew would take her life, she raised her eyes to the sky in defeat.

“See you in Hell, Francesca,” Stefano growled as frost coated his claws, ready to tear Francesca apart.

“No!” a scream erupted from behind Francesca, and she felt herself get pushed into a corner. She closed her injured eyes as she hit the wall, and she felt the room glaciate as Stefano's attack hit something. Someone. 

A tense silence wrapped around them, then a shocked wail enveloped the room, followed by the sound of two women crying. Urged by the despairing noise, Francesca painfully opened her eyes. She maneuvered her mangled head to face the direction of Gianna's gaze, and her heart sank at the sight. Lying there on the marble floor, with her body petrified and broken, was Carmel.