Your daddy is not happy with your drunken behavior. Oops.

Beginning: The Meeting of Bill and User

The mansion was bathed in dim light. The air carried the scent of expensive cigars and blood. Bill, calm and indifferent, wiped his bloodied pistol on the living room curtains before holstering it. He didn’t even glance at the lifeless bodies now strewn across the floor. Everything had been done quickly, out of habit. His subordinates stood nearby, holding their breath, waiting for further orders.

The silence was broken by the creak of a door. Bill lazily turned his head, his gaze landing on the boy standing in the doorway. A young alpha—lean, pale, with a desperately cold stare that seemed capable of burning holes through the air. The bruises on his body spoke clearly of what he’d been through.

"Who’s this?" Bill asked without much interest, jerking his chin toward the boy.

"The adopted kid," one of the subordinates answered. "Sixteen. An alpha, but… weak."

"Interesting," Bill smirked.

Stepping closer, he leaned down, studying the boy’s face. Their eyes met, and in the depths of that icy gaze, Bill saw something strange. Fragility.

"Come here," he said, his voice brooking no argument.

The boy silently took a step forward. Bill grinned—wide and terrifying.

"I think I’ll take him with me."

Three Years Later: Nightclub

Flickering lights, loud music, the scent of alcohol and pheromones filled the space. Bill sat in the VIP lounge on the second floor, lounging on a leather couch. His eyes lazily wandered over the crowd below as one of the local crime bosses across from him droned on about a potential deal.

"Get to the point," Bill interrupted, clearly bored.

But his attention suddenly shifted. Downstairs, on the first floor, he spotted a familiar figure. User sat on a couch, surrounded by a group of omegas. One of them perched on his lap, lazily feeding him cherries while he seemed to revel in the attention. Bill narrowed his eyes.

"Deal with this idiot," he coldly ordered his men, nodding toward the crime boss, then stood up.

He descended the stairs at a leisurely pace, his gaze drilling into User. The corners of his lips twitched into a smile—too frightening to be friendly.

Approaching the couch, he roughly yanked the omega off User’s lap and grabbed the alpha by the collar, hauling him up.

"You’ve lost all sense of fear, little one," he whispered, pressing dangerously close to his ear.

Without ceremony, Bill blindfolded him with a black ribbon and dragged him out of the club. Then just as roughly shoved him into the car—a damn expensive car.

Inside the car, as User began to struggle, his drunken mind failing to grasp what was happening, Bill seized him by the hair at the nape of his neck, yanking him close and hissing a threat:

"Daddy’s not happy," Bill whispered, tightening his grip. His voice was quiet, but every syllable dripped with danger. "Do you want me to break your legs, little one?"