The Alpha's False Mate

CHAPTER 3: A Savior or a Predator?

The grey wolf leaps on top of the black one with grace. It punctures its fangs on its opponent’s neck, which prompts a squeal from it. The aggressive wiggling of the black wolf’s body successfully tosses the grey one off its back. Terror jiggles underneath my skin when the black wolf runs towards me instead of attacking its opponent. Fortunately, the grey wolf is fast enough to block its way to me. They glare at each other, grunting, boasting their canines. Out of fear and desperation, I rush through the exit door. My legs compete with each other in speed and, with jagged breaths, I call for anyone who’s nearby.

“There are wolves on the rooftop! There are wolves on the rooftop!”

I only stop running and yelling when two security guards frenetically appear in the corridor. To steady my breath and soothe my throbbing legs, I clutch one of the guard’s sleeves and lean my weight onto him.

“What do you mean wolves?!”

“There are wolves fighting on the rooftop!”

They glance at each other and jerk their shoulders, apparently not buying my words.

“I’m not lying! See for yourselves!” I say under my breath while pointing in the direction of the rooftop.

They narrow their eyes and crease their brows but eventually lead the way. With extreme cautiousness, we ascend to the stairs. Every inch of my skin tweaks whenever I lift my feet forward. Before stepping in to the rooftop's door, the guards pull their guns out of their holsters and aim them ahead. My heart skips a bit for every thump of our feet. Unlike earlier, the area is quiet and the thudding and growling are nowhere to be heard. After the fleeting silence, a screeching noise fills the tensed ambiance. We follow where the noise is coming from – the distant garden at the far right corner. I jolt when the handsome guy rises from behind the plants. My eyes widen and my lips part at his horrible sight. He’s wounded and exhausted, breathing through his mouth. Blood stains his ripped white polo and torn checkered slacks. Both his shoes are on his hands instead of his feet.

“Are you okay, sir?”

The guards rush to his aid while I’m glued right beside the exit door. Guilt lurks in my chest. How did I forget about him? He saved me from jumping off this building while I left him to be eaten by the wolves. The guy trudges forward in uneven steps, favoring his left leg.

He says, without any sign of panic, “The wolves have escaped.”

One guard scratches the back of his head while the other one searches for any trace of the wolves using a small flashlight in his hand.

“How did they get in here without our notice?” asks the guard.

Obviously, nobody has the answer to his question, resulting in a brief silence to unfurl. While perplexity hovers around the three of us, the handsome guy doesn't show even the slightest bit of emotion, as if what just happened doesn't bother him at all. He forces blue paper bills into the hands of the guards and whispers something to them. They’re quite far and because it’s a whisper, there’s no way to tell what he said. The puzzled expressions on the guards’ faces turn into delighted ones. They both walk past me, then out of the exit door like nothing happened. My eyebrows furrow as I stare at the handsome guy. He picks up his phone and, without removing his knee-jerking eyes on my baffled ones, speaks.

“Come here to the rooftop, now.”

Soon after he drops his call, a tall bulky man in a dark three-piece suit arrives. While the handsome guy is whispering something to the bulky guy, they keep on glancing at the garden and the CCTV. Questions after questions relentlessly pile up in my head that it wanna explode. When my curiosity is too powerful to tuck away, it effortlessly glides between my lips.

“What’s going on?”

The guys stop whispering and direct their gazes at me. They just stare without any intention of responding, which triggers another question to slip from my mouth.

“Why did you send the security guards away? Aren’t they supposed to investigate what happened here?”

My tone teeters between annoyance and confusion. I step back when the wounded man strides towards me. He grabs my hand and forces a paper into it.

“Keep what happened here a secret,” he says.

Anger swiftly bustles through me when I finally realize what he’d given the guards – a one thousand peso bill. Sure, I’m desperate for money, but this mockery is beyond acceptable! I crumple the bill with my trembling hand and hurl it into his face. He’s not surprised at what I did. Instead, he just stands, stares, and perhaps waits for me to express myself. Tears well the corners of my eyes.

I say with an attempt to steady my voice, “Do you really think that you could buy anything with money?”

He replies monotonously, “No.”

My shoulders stiffen. I open my mouth but close it again when realization strikes me – I don’t matter to anyone and so do my words. Before my tears could fall down again, I turn around and walk my way from his presence. Undesirable sensations flood me all at once; anger, disappointment, pity and despair. Demoralized, I drag myself back to my father’s room, ignore the time on the wall clock, sit on the stool and lay my arms on the bedside. My sobs pervade the room while my tears persistently cascade. My chest tightens, my nose clogs and my eyes swell, but none of these matter. What I need now is to let all these emotions out. Otherwise, it’s either I’d go crazy or I’d attempt to kill myself again.

Hours have lapsed and I completely dismiss the wolves’ appearance on the rooftop. If the security guards, who are supposed to protect the people in this hospital, don’t care, then why would I? I have many issues of my own and thinking about other things that don’t concern me isn’t wise. I sigh when my head aches and my stomach blurbs. Come to think of it, I haven’t eaten anything since I received the hospital’s call yesterday morning. Well, this isn’t the first time though. When stress gets the better of me, it usually slips my mind to eat and, sometimes, to sleep too. That’s how wonderful my life is!

I’m busted out of my thoughts when a doctor, with a trolley in hand, enters. He walks to the other side of the bed opposite to me and checks the machine before infusing a liquid medication into one of the drips.

“This medicine will stabilize your father’s heartbeats and lessen the swelling in his brain. If he continues receiving such medication, we can still save him,” the doctor says.

I press my parted lips together as I contemplate for a moment. When I manage to construct the words in my head, they glide through my tongue.

“Thank you for your consideration. In one week, I’ll borrow money to pay my father’s expenses. I promise.”

The scribble of the doctor’s pen against the medical report dulls the brief quietness.

When he’s done writing, he angles his sight at me and says, “Your father’s bill is all settled. Worry about the future ones by next month.”

In a flash, thousands of needles are plucked out of my chest. The heat in my stomach subsides while some of my troubles momentarily melt. For once, I’m able to breathe good air. When the miraculous news sinks deeper into my consciousness, I ask,

“How did that happen?”

“Mr. Lavine Acosta paid for it.”

Mr. Lavine Acosta? My nose wrinkles as I reiterate the name. He sounds familiar. I just couldn’t figure out where I heard his name.

“Who's he? Where can I find him? I’d like to personally thank him.”

The doctor gawks, making me feel that my questions are nothing but stupid. Rather than answering me, he continues writing the medical report. Before he steps out, he says,

“He’s all over the net. Search for him in there.”

I nod with a frail smile, which I hope he sees before closing the door.

“Lavin Acosta,” I murmur as I take my phone out of my shorts pocket.

I type his name and the instant his information is represented through the c***k screen of my phone, shock slams me like a drum. He’s none other than the young multi-billionaire businessman and the CEO of the Golden Empire Hotel where I’m working. What staggers me more, is when I scroll down the screen and see what he looks like. Without a doubt, he’s the handsome man that I met at the said hotel yesterday and on the rooftop earlier. My palm slaps my forehead when my memory trips me back to how I acted towards him regarding the one thousand peso bill. How could he be so nice and generous, considering that I was so disrespectful to him? A tide of embarrassment engulfs me, drowns me even.

I need to meet him again. Not only to extend my gratitude, but to also be enlightened about his confusing actions on the rooftop. I unmindfully stand up when the odd possibility of his kindness emerges in my head, causing the stool to flip against the cold ceramic floor. Wait! Did he settle my father’s bill in exchange for my silence about the wolves? If so, why?