Young Alpha Little Mate

CHAPTER 1

In the shroud of night, the young and striking Master of Jones accelerated his car along a deserted, darkened road leading to his private estate. A self-satisfied smirk adorned his handsome visage, but his expression also conveyed a deadly aura that sent chills through the air around him with every mile he passed. As he neared his grand mansion, the automatic smart gate recognized his vehicle, swinging open to grant him access to the expansive grounds. He came to a stop in front of the mansion, where a contingent of strong men dressed in black stood vigilantly, awaiting his arrival and With a hint of amusement reflected on his lips, he stepped out of his car and approached the imposing entrance.

As he moved towards the mansion, a few younger boys appeared, seemingly ready to take his belongings from him. He dismissively waved them off, instructing, “Leave the car as it is,” before he confidently strode down a dimly lit hallway that ultimately led to the mansion's splendid sitting room. Within the room stood a one-eyed man named Rufus, who greeted Julius with a formal bow, his stance rigid as a statue amidst the ambiance.

“Are those the sharpest?” Julius queried, moving closer to Rufus and glancing at the flat box the one-eyed man held.

“Yes, sir,” Rufus replied respectfully.

“Good, come with me,” Julius commanded, guiding Rufus toward a door at the far end of the parlor. This door led into the basement of the mansion, an expansive and hollow area. As they navigated through the basement, they approached a concealed door that blended with the wall, masking any indications of its existence. They descended the stairs into the deepest recesses of the underground space.

Inside, the atmosphere turned grim as they found a man secured to a rusted chair, his body bound and positioned before a matching table. Sweat dripped from the man's disfigured face while blood oozed from his wounds, remnants of a vicious whipping that had left him trembling. His haunted gaze was fixated on the stark, empty walls that surrounded him, dimly lit by an isolated bulb hanging overhead. The air grew heavy with the tension, amplified by the creaking noise of the door as it slowly swung open, revealing the man's greatest terror.

Julius entered the dimly lit room, his playful smirk now replaced by an aura of seriousness that filled the space with an unsettling tension. He harshly placed the box from Rufus onto the rusted table to give out a loud thud , the sound reverberating ominously and amplifying the fear etched across the face of the bound man before him. The atmosphere was thick with dread and suspense, mirroring a storm cloud that seemed to hover ominously overhead. Every tick of the clock and heartbeat echoed the man’s rising panic as he contemplated the fate that awaited him, entirely under the control of his captor, Julius, and the silent enforcement by Rufus at his side. They had plunged deep into a world devoid of mercy, where power was ruthlessly exercised.

“Si...ir” the man stammered, barely able to speak as his throat was raw from desperate cries and pleas. Julius opened the flat box, revealing an array of sharp knives that glinted menacingly in the dim light. Locking his gaze onto the terrified captive, he inquired chillingly, “How would you prefer your fingers, sliced or crushed?” Choosing a cleaver that gleamed with malevolence, he began to advance toward the man. However, his intention was interrupted by the abrupt beeping from his phone, causing an annoyance that quickly transitioned into an unsettling smile as he read a message from his grandmother.