Siren mated to the Alpha kings

Brielles POV “I told you I wanted decaf! What kind of establishment is this?” the woman shrieked. Marlo came rushing from the back. “What’s going on out here?” he asked, confusion written all over his face as his gaze bounced between the customer and me. The woman scoffed. “She made my coffee wrong. Twice!” Marlo shot me a questioning look. “It was a mistake. I’m sorry. I’ll make you a fresh one,” I said quickly. The woman’s face turned crimson with rage. “Don’t even bother, you worthless piece of s**t,” she spat before hurling the cup toward the register. Hot coffee splashed across the counter. Ouch. “Hey! Come on now!” Marlo shouted, throwing his hands into the air. The woman shoved the front door open and stormed out, ranting the entire way while her husband silently followed behind her, looking just as embarrassed as I felt. I let out a shaky sigh and hurried for a cleaning rag. “What’s going on, Bells?” Marlo asked gently. “This isn’t like you.” I kept my eyes on the counter as I scrubbed at the coffee stains. “Nothing. I just—” “Bells.” I looked up. One look at his face told me he wasn’t buying it. “I haven’t been sleeping,” I admitted. “I’ve had four finals this week, and my last one is tomorrow. If I fail, I lose everything I’ve worked for. But I also can’t afford to miss work because I need the money. So I’ve been trying to do both, and…” I laughed weakly. “I’m running on fumes.” Marlo rested a comforting hand against my back. “Bells,” he said softly. “Breathe.” I closed my eyes for a second, forcing myself to inhale. “It’s going to be okay,” he continued. “If you had told me, I would’ve adjusted your schedule. We would’ve figured something out together. I had no idea you were carrying all of this.” I gave a tired smile. “Five finals in one week is brutal.” “You’re telling me,” I muttered. “I know you would’ve helped. Hell, you probably would’ve given me the whole week off.” “So why didn’t you ask?” “Because that doesn’t solve the problem.” I looked down at the rag in my hands. “I can’t afford to take time off. Every shift matters.” His expression softened. “How’s your foster mom?” I shrugged. “She’s hanging in there. A nurse comes by every few days to check on her, but…” I swallowed. “She doesn’t look good.” Marlo sighed. Neither of us said what we were both thinking. I knew where this was heading. I just wasn’t ready to admit it. “Finish cleaning up, then go home,” he said. “The rest of today is on me.” Normally I would’ve argued. Not today. Today, I was exhausted. Business always slowed down around sunset anyway. I finished wiping everything down, put the cleaning supplies away, and grabbed my usual to-go coffee before heading for the door. The bell above the entrance chimed. An older man stepped inside. His tan complexion seemed to glow beneath the warm café lights. Dark brown eyes scanned the room with quiet confidence. He wore a perfectly tailored black suit that probably cost more than my car, the crisp fabric fitting his broad frame like it had been custom-made. “Hi. Welcome to Coffee Express.” “Just a black coffee.” He said His voice was deep, calm… …and strangely familiar. Have I seen him before? I couldn’t place him, but someone with his size and commanding presence wasn’t exactly easy to forget. “Bye, Marlo. See you tomorrow,” I called over my shoulder. The man looked at me. His eyes widened ever so slightly before locking onto mine. He stared. Not in a creepy way. More like… Recognition. Weird. “See you tomorrow, Bells,” Marlo replied with a wave. I smiled before slipping out the back door toward my tiny Toyota Echo. Petunia. She wasn’t pretty, but she’d never let me down. I tossed my backpack onto the passenger seat, climbed in, and started the engine. Just as I checked my mirrors, a black SUV rolled into the alley and stopped directly behind me, boxing me in. My stomach dropped. “What the hell?” That definitely wasn’t there a second ago. The driver’s door opened. A tall man, maybe in his mid-thirties, climbed out wearing another expensive-looking black suit. He strode confidently toward my window before motioning for me to roll it down. Absolutely not. I shook my head. “Listen,” he called through the glass. “I’m not going to hurt you.” Right. Because every horror movie starts with a strange man saying exactly that. I glanced around, searching for enough room to squeeze Petunia past the SUV. No luck. The man sighed. “Come on, sweetheart. My patience is running out.” Against every instinct screaming at me, I lowered the window barely an inch. “What do you want?” “What’s your name?” “Bell.” “Your legal name.” My grip tightened on the steering wheel. “Brielle Rose.” “Where are you from?” “Monterey, California.” I narrowed my eyes. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’d really like to leave.” What was with the interrogation? He studied me for another long moment before giving a small nod toward the SUV. It immediately pulled forward. The second there was enough room, I hit the gas. I didn’t even look back until I was several blocks away. My heart hammered against my ribs as I checked the rearview mirror over and over. Nobody. Still… Why did he care where I was from? Trying to shake the encounter from my mind, I stopped at Mom’s favorite Vietnamese restaurant. She hadn’t been eating much lately. Maybe she’d at least drink the broth if I brought home pho. After picking up the order, I drove home. “Mom?” I called as I stepped inside. “I brought you something special.” Silence. Maybe she was asleep. Again. I walked into the living room. She was slumped in her recliner, her head hanging awkwardly to one side. Sleeping. That’s all she seemed to do anymore. “Hey,” I whispered, gently rubbing her arm. Nothing. Alice had been what most people called a functioning addict for years. Drugs. Alcohol. Whatever she could get her hands on. Somehow she’d still managed to keep a roof over our heads and do her best to take care of me while slowly destroying herself. I never knew my biological parents. I’d spent years bouncing between foster homes until I landed here. Alice’s house had been filthy. The electricity got shut off more times than I could count. But she’d given me my own room. At the time, it was only supposed to be temporary. A few nights. Maybe a week. Instead, I stayed. Alice needed the foster money. I needed somewhere to stop running. So we made an unspoken agreement. I didn’t ask for much. I figured out food. Bought my own clothes. Found my own school supplies. I cleaned the house and ate breakfast and lunch at school. Some days I’d sneak an extra snack from the cafeteria just to make it through dinner until I was old enough to get a job. Compared to the homes I’d lived in before… This place felt like paradise. I planned to move out after graduating high school, once the foster checks stopped coming. Then the overdose happened. I found Alice barely breathing. Called 911. She survived. But she never truly came back from it. Years of addiction had finally caught up with her, and between the medical bills and doctors who had long since stopped believing she’d change, everything spiraled downhill. I couldn’t leave. She’d given me the closest thing I’d ever had to a family. I sat beside her and noticed a syringe lying on the coffee table. Chip. Her dealer. He must’ve stopped by today. I closed my eyes and rubbed my temples. “This addiction is going to kill you someday,” I whispered. She never heard me