BOUND TO THE RUTHLESS ALPHA

chapter 19

Darius’ POV

“I can't believe she ignored me like that.” I said as my grip on the steering wheel tightened until my knuckles turned white.

“Well, what do you want me to say, Darius?” Sam sighed from the shotgun seat. “You pushed her to it.”

I snapped my eyes to him for a second, then back on the road. “How?”

He looked at me. “You were mean to her. Just tell me…what exactly did you say?”

I kept my gaze straight. “We just had a little talk,” I muttered. “And I told her that even though she’s my mate, it doesn’t mean she’s important to me or anyone. And that she’s from a brothel.”

Sam facepalmed so hard I could hear the smack of his palm against his forehead. “Damn it, Darius. That was way too harsh. You hurt her feelings.”

I flicked my eyes toward him, catching the disappointment on his face, then looked back at the windshield. I didn’t bother answering.

Sam shook his head. “Look, not everybody who ends up in a brothel is there because they want to be. Some people don’t have a choice. Maybe it’s not even what she wanted.” He leaned closer. “As a sensible person, you should sit with her and talk with her.”

“Don’t forget she calms your wolf,” he added.

I gritted my teeth, slamming a palm against the steering wheel. “I hate the fact that my wolf is now dependent on her, Sam. Do you understand? If she realizes that, it might get in her head. She might disrespect me.”

Sam nearly rolled his eyes. “You’re too damn egocentric, Darius. That girl doesn’t seem like someone who’d use it against you. She seems calm and humble. Better than you’re giving her credit for.”

I tried talking to her today. She didn’t even look at me, didn’t say good morning, nothing. It made my blood boil. She ignored me like I was nobody.

“Dude, you have to relax, okay? So you don’t get out of control,” Sam said beside me.

I let out a heavy sigh, dragging a hand down my face. “What can I do, Sam?”

He turned his head to look at me, his brows raised like he couldn’t believe I asked that. “Huh?”

“I mean…” I tightened my grip on the wheel. “How can I make her not upset?”

Sam stared at me for a moment, then let out a short laugh. “Damn. That’s a surprise.”

“Don’t mess with me, Sam,” I muttered, shooting him a glare.

We were already at the company. I pulled the car into the lot, parked neatly, and stopped the engine.

Sam opened his door and stepped out first. I followed, straightening my suit as we began walking side by side toward the entrance.

“Well,” he started again, sliding his hands into his pockets, “you can’t possibly unsay what you said. Words don’t work like that. But you can do something to make up for it. Even if it doesn’t cover the wound completely, it’s still a step in the right direction.”

“Good morning, Mr. Macaulay.”

“Good morning, Mr. Anderson.”

The greetings kept coming one after another as we walked through the lobby. I nodded here and there, but my mind was elsewhere. By the time we reached the lift, Sam leaned toward me.

“What I think you could do,” he said, “is get her something nice. Something she likes.”

I turned my head and frowned at him. “I have no idea what she likes.”

“Oh, right.” He rubbed the back of his neck, then smirked. “Okay, you should get her something girls tend to like, you know, to appease her.”

The lift dinged, the doors sliding open. We stepped inside, silence hanging between us until it stopped again and we walked into my floor.

“I know nothing about what girls love or anything,” I muttered as we entered my office.

Sam followed, dropping into the chair opposite my desk. “Fine. Then keep it simple. A bouquet of maybe roses. An apology letter. Some chocolate or sweets. That would be nice.”

I shot him a look as I sank into my chair. “Sounds like a rom-com movie.”

Sam burst into laughter. “Come on, Darius. You have your mate now. Stop being so rigid. You don’t even know how to treat her right.”

I flipped my laptop open and began typing. “Look, I just… sometimes I get agitated, okay? Sometimes when I remember the brothel and the fact that so many men must have touched her—”

I stopped mid-sentence, realizing what had just slipped out of my mouth.

Sam’s grin widened as he leaned forward on his elbows. “So it’s jealousy, eh? Aw, that’s so sweet.”

I grabbed a pen and tossed it at him. He caught it easily, still grinning.

“Okay,” he said, chuckling. “But really, you shouldn’t let her past haunt you both. Talk to her.”

I exhaled, nodding slowly. “Yes, fine. I also need to do a background check on her. I want to know how she grew up.”

I pointed a finger at him. “I’ll leave that for you to handle.”

Sam shrugged. “No problem. So…” he leaned back, crossing one ankle over his knee, “when are we getting these gifts and chocolates?”

I kept my eyes on the laptop, scrolling through the flood of messages. “Right after I reply to over a hundred emails.”

There were so many of them, my eyes started to blur. 126 unopened emails. That’s what I get for ignoring my mailbox for a week. Normally, my personal assistant would’ve handled this, but she was on leave, so everything landed on me.

After what felt like two hours, maybe more, I finally shut down my laptop and leaned back in my chair. My head ached, but at least I was done. I grabbed my keys from the desk.

“All done, Sam.”

“Phew,” he stretched and yawned, “let’s go. I almost fell asleep back there.”

We headed out of the office and straight to the garage. I entered my Porsche and started the engine.

“So,” I said as we pulled out, “what exactly are we getting again?”

“Well,” Sam began, “a bouquet of roses, some chocolate… and then you write a note yourself, expressing how sorry you are.”

I almost slammed the brakes. “What? Like an apology letter? I’ve never written that in my life.”

Sam smirked, leaning back casually. “Well, this'll be your first.”

“And,” Sam added, “you could get maybe some jewelry. Clothes. Dresses. Anything.”

I nodded slowly. “Okay.”

When we arrived at the shopping mall, I parked and we stepped inside. The place was buzzing with people. We headed straight to the clothing section. I had no clue what sizes to pick, but Sam—thanks to his countless shopping trips for Kimberly, eyed the racks like a professional.

He pulled out a few dresses, shoes, and set them in my arms.

“Trust me,” he said. “These will fit Soraya.”

We moved through the aisles quickly, picking up the bouquet, chocolates, ice cream, and even a small box of jewelry that caught my eye. By the time we were done, I was holding five bags.

Sam was practically grinning from ear to ear. “Damn, I can’t wait to see her reaction.”

I adjusted the bags in my hand, already wondering if this would be enough to undo what I’d said.

Finally, we got to the mansion, and the two of us stepped out.

“Now Darius, do note that it might not be so easy. Even though you’ve got her gifts, she might not forgive you right away. She might seem tough, just be patient with her and don’t let your anger override you. You caused it for yourself, and you have to fix it.” Sam told me.

“Whatever,” I muttered, even though I had listened to everything Sam said.

Inside, it was quiet at first until I started hearing some noises.

“You b***h, I’ll make you pay! Did you just call me a brat?”

Sam and I exchanged a look, then hurried from the living room toward the hallway. That was when we spotted Emily and Soraya.

Soraya was glaring at her. “Listen, Emily, we’ve been at this, okay? You’re the one who’s being such a brat. If you weren’t a brat, you wouldn’t have stomped on my feet and refused to let me pass. You come from a reputable home, why are you acting like a wild dog?”

“Damn, I would never want to get on her bad books,” Sam muttered.

“Shush,” I hissed, my eyes fixed on them.

Emily’s face twisted with rage. “Really? You talk to me like that? You’re nothing. You’re not even better than the maids that work here.”

Soraya’s chin lifted. “Listen, Emily, I won’t stand here and watch you talk to me like that—”

“What would you do?” Emily snapped, yelling now. She raised her hand, aiming to slap Soraya.

I moved quickly, catching Emily’s wrist mid-air.

“Stop this nonsense, Emily.”