The Mafia Lord’s Runaway Omega

Evangeline’s POV: "I will burn this world down and you along with it if you dare to even look at another man again." His voice echoes in my head, deep and raw with fury, even as fire licks at my skin, swallowing me whole. Tears streak down my face, mingling with the thick smoke that coils around me, suffocating me. My long white dress catches fire, the fabric curling and blackening as the flames climb higher. I’m going to die. I’ve wanted to die for a long time. This is good. This is wonderful. After all, I have nothing left to live for. Parents who hated me, using me as nothing more than a tool for their power-hungry ambitions. No friends. No degree—because an Omega’s only purpose in this world is to serve her Alpha. And no children. Not since that accident ten years ago. The one that took my child from me and left me infertile. And last but not least, my husband despised me. Orion Volkovitch. The man I had loved for as long as I could remember. The man who should have cherished me but instead ruined me. The man who had stripped away every last piece of my dignity until I was nothing but a broken, discarded thing left to rot. Why else would he have done this to me if not out of pure hatred? So yes. I am happy. Even as my heart shatters over and over again. Even as my body trembles in agony, every nerve set ablaze. I want to thank whoever is up there watching me, giving me this release. This freedom. Is what I would like to say. But you know what? Fuck you, Orion. Fuck you and your Alpha genes. Fuck your father, your family, and your whole damn ancestral lineage. Was I stupid? Why the hell am I thanking some divine force for finally ending my misery? I should be praying that this fire consumes him too. That wherever he is, he burns just as I am burning. My husband. The person I once loved and the f*****g bane of my existence. A scream rips from my throat—raw, broken, filled with every ounce of rage and bitterness I have left in me. "If there's a next life, I swear to God, I’ll find you and make you suffer!" I pray to never fall in love ever again. That is my last thought as the darkness swallows me whole. I wake up gasping. The air is crisp and cool against my skin, nothing like the suffocating heat that had burned me alive only moments ago. My fingers clutch at soft silk sheets, my body sinking into a mattress so familiar it makes my stomach lurch. My heart pounds wildly as my eyes dart around the elegant bedroom, a space I know far too well. The Volkovitch Estate. I shove the blanket off, my breath coming out in short, panicked bursts. No. No, no, no. My body aches all over, but I force myself onto my feet, nearly tripping over the white silk nightgown draped over me. My hands tremble as I reach for the vanity mirror. The reflection staring back at me makes my breath catch. Young. My face is young. Gone are the hollowed-out cheeks and the weary, lifeless eyes. My skin is smooth, untouched by time or suffering. My long, platinum-blonde hair cascades over my shoulders, down to my waist in soft waves, healthy and full, not the brittle strands I last remember. What the hell is happening? I reach out, fingers pressing against the cold mirror as if touching it would confirm this impossible reality. Did I… go back in time? My chest tightens, my pulse hammering violently. This is insane. This is— The bathroom door clicks open. I snap my head towards it. My heart thunders against my ribcage threatening to burst out. Orion. Fucking. Volkovitch. He steps out, steam rolling off his bare skin, a towel slung low around his hips. Water drips from his jet-black hair, trailing down the sharp lines of his chest and disappearing beneath the fabric. His eyes land on me—one silver and one onyx brown—roaming over my probably stunned expression. My mind blanks. Holy s**t. I mean, don’t get me wrong—I’ve seen him naked before. We were married, after all. But those few times were always in the dark. Orion never liked exposing himself. He always wore full sleeves, covering his tattoos and the multiple scars on his torso and body. Always maintained an air of impenetrable control. But now I wasn’t shy about looking at him. Now I didn’t tear my eyes away and blush incessantly. And for the first time in two years, I remember why I fell in love with him in the first place. Damn it. Who wouldn’t after seeing this face and that body? Orion frowns. "Is something wrong?" His voice was low, smooth—dangerous. I struggle to form words. What the hell am I supposed to say?! "How do you feel?" he asks, stepping closer. I flinch. What the f**k was I supposed to feel?! I should be dead. Burnt to ashes. Not standing here, staring at my years-younger husband. “Wh-what—where’s my phone?” I blurt out, stopping myself just before asking what day it is. That would make me sound insane. Orion narrows his eyes, suspicious. But he nods toward the nightstand. I scramble toward it, my hands shaking as I unlock the screen. And then— My lungs seize. September 30th, 2015. 2015. A full ten years before my death. The world tilts beneath me. 2015. The worst possible year of my life. The year everything changed. The year that ruined me. The year I lost my child. A violent dizziness overtakes me, my legs wobbling. My vision blurs, and before I can hit the floor, strong arms catch me. I gasp as Orion lifts me, his grip scalding, cradling me against his chest. Butterflies fluttered in the pit of my stomach. No. No, no, no. Stop that. Stop feeling this. I hate him. I hate him. I should hate him!