The Alpha King Is Mad

Episode 1

TRACY

Dad rarely calls. And even if he does, half the time, I don't answer his calls. Half the time that I pick up his calls, I'm cold and abrasive. Look, I didn't like talking to him and having us pretend that he was this good man who wanted nothing more than the happiness of his two children. He wasn't— not to me, not to Justin.

As far as billionaires go, Dad had a pretty decent reputation. Some even went as far as calling him ‘a very kind man’ and I have heard people say he had a heart of gold. Well, what can I say? Weirder things have been said.

At best— especially since ‘goodness’ was often reduced to a person who was law-abiding— so in that sense, Dad was a decent man. But he a terrible father. It was embarrassingly worse when he ‘tried’ because even though the man was one of the world's leading movie producer, he couldn't play his role as a father even if a script written in capital letters was placed on his lap.

"Ah," the butt-naked man on my bed let out, as he turned on his bottom, still snoring.

For the life of me, I couldn't remember what his name was. Was it John? No, John was Stella's driver whom I had slept with four or five times. Maybe six times. Or seven. But then, who was counting?

Well, if the man who was still asleep told me his name, I had totally forgotten. I met him last night at a bar I frequented. Truth be told, I didn't like him when I first saw him. Not saying I liked him any better now. At first sight, he appeared to be one of those dudes that spent half their lives in a gym and a significant part of the other half talking about how working out was the next best thing after sliced bread.

I wasn't going to deny it, he caught my attention soon after, but in hindsight, that happened after I downed the third shot of tequila. I mean, he was handsome and I had a very high s*x drive, so my eyes rarely missed a hot guy.

He approached me immediately he saw me because I was drop-dead gorgeous. Or it could have been because I was dressed like a damn wh*re. Who knows?

He began to tell me stories I had zero interest in. Also, I love the way men always told me how great their mother was, and how much they loved them. I felt they did it because they felt it would make them appear sweeter. While that was cute and all that, I recall fighting the urge to tell him I couldn't care less about his mother.

After listening to him talk for about half an hour, I brought my hands to the crotch area of his jean shorts, and said, "Want to go home with me?"

And here we were.

I patted the naked man on the back of his neck and respectfully told him to get the heck out of my house. We had fun, yes, but that was over now. He asked for my number and I didn't want to appear mean. Without any doubts, he had been most useful last night— at least a part of him was. So I gave him a number so he wouldn't feel bad. I mean, I did make it up at the spot, but a number was a number.

The bathtub was a place where I found a sense of peace and serenity. Sadly, today I wasn't feeling much like myself so I spent less than seven minutes in the tub. On other days, it was way more.

I made myself an omelette, pancakes, and a huge glass of hot unskimmed milk. Never in nearly twenty-five years of my life have I succeeded in strictly following a healthy diet.

I had my breakfast watching some teenagers dance on the internet and was quite enthralled by their moves. Then, Deborah, a friend of mine called. She was vibrant and often a fun person to speak with.

"Hey, Tracy girl, how are you doing?" She asked, her voice ever so full of energy.

Of course, knowing Deborah, I knew she was much more comfortable when she had her mouth running, and man, wasn't it always running?

She told me she wanted to buy a vintage god. I swear I wasn't making this up.

By ‘god’, she meant a car that was manufactured seventy years ago and shouldn't even be worth the price of a half-eaten burger, but damn, it would surprise you how much such cars went for.

"What do you think about the price? Too expensive?" Deborah asked me.

I chuckled trying my best to not sound rude. "Debby, anything is too expensive for that car. Why not get something new and reasonably priced?"

“Tracy!. You have no taste," Deborah teased me. "Everybody knows that getting such cars commands a certain type of, you know, respect."

"What do I know about class, your Royal Highness?" I didn't want to get into an argument with Deborah so I agreed. "On second thought, I think it is cheap. Get it before someone beats you to it."

"I know, right? That is precisely what I should do," Deborah let out, apparently not catching my sarcasm. "Let's keep the story of my car aside, what's up with you? We haven't spoken in a hot minute."

What was up with me? Hmm. Nothing interesting as per usual. To be honest, it rarely ever anything but work.

I was going to check out a ‘new’ cave that had allegedly ‘appeared’ on a man's farm. Yeah, out of nowhere, the reports claimed. I didn't believe the story for one second because it was plainly ludicrous; a rather obvious made-up nonsense. Something some folks created to get the attention of the masses as was done every other day. Caves don't just appear on farms, right? But give it a week, watch it garner some clout, and it would surprise you the number of people who would buy it..

Anyway, since it was relatively new, and more importantly, close by, I told Aidan that I would check it out.

Work aside, the only thing remotely fun about me was my s*x life. Even this was only fun when shared stories with friends; most of the men I met were anything but funny.

I lived a life that many would deem boring. I mostly kept to myself. Clearly, Deborah would have zero interest in anything work-related, so I didn't tell her about the cave I was going to check out tomorrow. Instead, I filled her in on last night's bedroom business, giving her all the details because as always, she asked for it.

"You get all the good men, don't you?"

"Debby, I don't keep them, so do I really get them? I just have them f*ck me."

"Aren't you the wildest of them all," Deborah let out, chuckling.

She went off the line soon after that, and I began to think.

Deborah's perspective of me wasn't wrong and I wasn't in the least offended. She wasn't the only one with this view of my personality, was she? All my friends saw me as this bad chick who went around sleeping with every hot dude she saw and never committed to anyone. And yes, that was pretty much all I did in my spare time.

But that was as much as they knew.

It was easy to base your view on a person's attitude on assumptions. Those who weren't close to me thought I was this billionaire's daughter who cared about s*x, and spent her father's money anyhow she liked.

Not true.

In fact, one couldn't be more mistaken. I stopped asking Dad for money before I my short lived Uni days expired. Now, that was some three years ago. Since then I had survived on my own and had built my own wealth as the twenty-four-year-old independent woman I was. I mean, that was what often I told myself in the mirror…

While it was true that being Dad's child opened many doors for me, I did work hard to never have to ask him for money. Not that my wealth was anything in comparison with his, but it was mine at least.

Now, was there a reason for my apathy towards commitment to a romantic relationship? Well, you tell me.

I remembered how innocent I was as a teen. I never really cared about dating, or boys, or s*x, or anything. I only took an interest in my looks, reading romances, and seeing as many movies as was humanly possible.

I remembered when I was fifteen and a then friend of mine told me that she couldn't believe that I had never kissed a boy and was still a virgin. I remember how silly that sounded to me because, at the time, I had zero interest in anyone and couldn't even see myself dating anyone. Although, in hindsight, many other girls were even more ‘innocent’ and for much longer.

Amidst all my friends in high school, I was the last to lose my virginity. I had even promised myself to stay a virgin forever because I wasn't interested in dating. Back then, I thought boys were stupid, gross, or weird, and I found many to be all three, uncompromisingly. I had always been attracted to guys, couldn't understand why at the time, but that attraction just wasn't enough to want to have anything to do with them. And so I religiously kept to my principles of 'no boys' until I met Kane Hamster.

Quick advice here— if his last name is Hamster, it's probably best to keep your distance.

Kane Hamster played on the school football team and even captained it. In the silly eyes of a teenager, I found him to be good-looking, well-built for his age, and he an accent that made everything out of his mouth sound respectful. And as a major plus, he was funny. I can recall hearing girls talking about how they wish Kane would pay more attention to them. He was it guy.

One rather sad Friday, Kane asked me out to lunch, and I had told him what I told every other guy: I wasn't interested. Kane wasn't just any guy— I'll give him that. So, somehow, he got me to go to lunch with him. After hanging out with him for a week or so, I had fallen in love with him and he claimed he loved me too. I mean, I was just sixteen… so, of course, I believed him.

What came next? We started dating, I guess, and we spent a lot of time together. We captured so many beautiful memories together and even planned on getting matching tattoos when we turned eighteen. I didn't even realise it when I threw away all the principles I thought were made of rock in my heart. None of that childish thinking had any relevance because I had found the one for me. I was utterly in love with Kane Hamster, and nothing else mattered.

A very long month and a half after things with Kane sparked up, I lost my virginity to him and was delighted that I did. That experience with him had felt like something very important. I remember how I felt the first time— I knew it was the beginning of many nights together. We had ‘solidified’ our relationship by having s*x, or so we thought. We made love even more often than one would expect of people of our age. We couldn't get enough of each other. That aside, everyone thought we were well-suited for each other... though I later got to learn that this was what people said about every couple.

To cut it short, our little romance ended painfully for me when I went into Kane's home one day, unknown to him. I had planned to surprise the love of my life at his home and instead got the biggest shock ever.

I had walked into the room where we had always made love and found him with a much older guy, and I promise you, they were not in a very friendly position.

That broke me.

It took me quite a while to fully recover from that shock and heartbreak. Whatever feelings I had for him fizzled out as soon as I saw him that day, but the heartbreak still had its effect on my life, at least in regards to how much trust I put in men.

It has been more than six years now and even my time at Uni didn't bring me back to my old self. Kane had only dated me so people wouldn't suspect he was gay. I was nothing other than a distraction from the closet where he hid.

I had loved him so dearly and never knew he didn't care for me at all. He couldn't even if he wanted to, at least not in the way I expected. How sad for the seventeen-year-old Tracy who adored Kane. To this day, I remembered how pleasurable it was just being in his arms, little had I known that he had never felt anything at all. He had probably envisioned me as some dude with a hairy chest.

I never spoke to Kane after that day but I didn't 'out' him either. In fact, most people never got to know just why we split. However, from that day, it wasn't an exaggeration to say something changed in me. I saw relationships as nothing but s*x. It was nothing more to me. I never got into a serious relationship, and just slept with every and any hot guy that was down for a good time.

Been going real good for me, if you asked.

My phone rang again and jaw dropped as I looked at the screen.

No f*cking way.

This time it was Justin, my brother, on the line. Well, I would be damned. He was calling me? Was this really happening?