"You know… this would have been your old man's responsibility, mostly or entirely… but due to a certain event… this visit is more personal."
"Um… please… I…" Brandon tried to say something, but William, not wanting to listen, decided to punch him in the stomach again, interrupting him.
"No, no, no… have you already forgotten what I told you before?" The alpha shook his head. "I just want you to focus on one thing… do you happen to remember being at a performance last night where an omega suffered an unexpected heat and…"
The Esbart vehemently shook his head, shaking as he tried to back away, but staying still as William watched him more intensely.
"Well…" the alpha roughly loosened his tie. "Looks like we're in the same boat. Tell me… while that white-haired omega was having one of the worst moments of her life on stage… do you happen to remember screaming so brazenly? I'm sure the bitch is in heat."
"II-I n-not…II…"
"I thought so… you really picked the worst night possible to go out drinking and try to escape the life Daddy ordered you to live, pretending to be meaner than you really are… You poor idiot."
Without warning, the alpha attacked, his knuckles slamming into the beta's nose with surgical precision. Blood gushed from his nostrils like a gushing fountain, some of it running down his throat, causing him to cough desperately, spreading the red liquid over his face, neck, and chest.
The unmistakable metallic smell of iron filled the room. Brandon raised his hands to his face and shrank in on himself as he whimpered in pain.
"P-please…" the Esbart raised both hands in a gesture of surrender, trying to protect himself. "I… didn't k-know…"
"Ah, Brandon, Brandon… don't tell me you've had enough," the alpha's voice trailed with mockery as he looked at him with an icy smile. "We're just getting started, you little leech."
The beta tried to speak, but only managed a stifled moan. His vocal cords seemed paralyzed with terror. William let out a deep breath, disappointed by the fragility of his victim, though not enough to stop himself.
He reached out, taking one of the boy's hands, and began to apply pressure slowly. A chorus of five hollow clicks erupted in the air like a macabre symphony. Because all five fingers broke at the same time. The pain was so intense that the scream he tried to escape was caught in his throat, transformed into a stifled shriek.
The black-haired man continued with his work as if it were just another household chore, ignoring the attempts to scream from his target and the sobs that flowed like waterfalls of despair. Tears flowed down the beta's cheeks as he continued trying to scream, either for help or to beg for mercy.
Whatever the reason, William granted him a few moments of rest. Not out of compassion, but to make sure he didn't faint prematurely.
After a few seconds of pause, the black-haired man twisted Brandon's arm with a sharp, brutal movement, causing a small fracture in the wrist of the same hand he had already shattered. And following the movement, without giving him time to react, the elbow gave way, bending in the opposite direction.
Brandon let out a hoarse, broken cry, his face twisted into a mask of utter pain. But William, even yawning, was starting to get bored.
Determined to end the session, William grabbed Brandon by the hair and hauled him carelessly out of bed. The boy's body dragged itself unresistingly, a quivering mass.
Then, with the same precision as before, the alpha lifted his boot and brought it down hard on one of his knees. The ensuing crunch was shrill, deep, satisfying to his trained ears, soon drowned out by the beta's high-pitched squeal, the sound of which would definitely reach his neighbors, bouncing off the walls.
"Oh, Brandon... sadly, it seems playtime is over..." the alpha joked with a crooked smile, watching out of the corner of his eye as the young man writhed on the floor, unable to bear the pain he had inflicted.
"The police just got called," Bentral's voice echoed in his earpiece with absolute calm. "Estimated time of arrival... ten minutes."
"Well... I'd like to be able to say that the time we shared was fun. But I'd be lying." William sighed, putting his hands in his pockets as if everything now seemed routine. "I guess I'll leave it at that, since you're not as tough as you seemed... just make sure you tell your daddy that if he's late with his payments one more time... not only will I do the same thing I did to you, but I'll do it much worse."
Without looking back, Aballay left the injured body behind and headed for the attic, quietly exiting through it. The night enveloped him easily, and his figure disappeared into the shadows, gliding like a ghost through the alleys until he reached an agreed-upon spot. Three blocks away, where Bentral was waiting for him in a van parked along the curb.
William opened the door, ducked inside, and slammed it shut behind him. As soon as he was inside, he began removing his outer layer of clothing. His mask, gloves, and boots joined it in a messy pile on the floor.
"Excellent work," Bentral congratulated him from behind the wheel. "Ready to head home, sir?"
The dark-haired man nodded silently. He changed into a simpler outfit he had laid out and slumped into the backseat, relaxing his tense muscles.
The drive back to the Aballay mansion was punctuated by the constant murmur of the radio. Bentral always had something on, listening to the multiple frequencies that crisscrossed the city.
After what seemed like hours, but was actually minutes, they reached their destination.
The Aballay family mansion stood near the city limits, a sprawling estate surrounded by high, well-maintained walls. Armed guards, who didn't bother to hide it, patrolled the perimeter with military precision. All to keep journalists, curious onlookers, and nosy people away.
Bentral slowed down as he reached the end of the driveway, turned off his headlights, and stopped the vehicle just as Xander appeared at the side to greet them.
William got out after the beta opened the door for him. He entered the mansion without a glance, leaving his enforcers exchanging comments among themselves. He wasn't in the mood to talk; he just wanted to shower.
He knew his aunts would want to question him soon. They always did when they noticed his attention straying toward people who, in theory, shouldn't interest him.
But right now, he had no interest in answering them.
Once in one of the mansion's many bathrooms, he silently undressed. He carelessly left his clothes on the floor and stood for a few seconds staring at himself in the full-length mirror. His physique was impeccable, sculpted by years of training, adorned with a few scars that crisscrossed it, bearing silent testimony to a violent life. His face, however, reflected boredom, his dull, lifeless eyes, as if nothing in this world could anymore spark his interest.
Sighing, he looked away and stepped into the shower. The cold water immediately enveloped him, descending over his skin like an icy caress. William sighed, tilting his head upward, allowing the water to hit his face and then descend over his body, relaxing every tense fiber of his being.
He didn't want to get too carried away. So, once satisfied, he turned off the tap. He left for his bedroom, leaving a trail of drops on the marble floor since he had forgotten to bring a towel.
But that didn't matter much to the alpha, who continued calmly on his way, ignoring his surroundings, since there were no servants in that part of the mansion.