Emily.

I could hear my father shouting in the other room. Something had set him off. Again. There was no question he was taking it out on my mother. I didn't understand how she could bear it. I wish we could leave this godforsaken place. But she and I both knew that would get us killed.

A clap resounded throughout our home, likely my father's palm contacting my mother's face yet again. I cringed but made sure I continued my chores, not wanting to be on the receiving end of one of my father's harsh slaps. I don't even know why I react anymore. It's become our normal. I should be used to it by now. But still, every time I hear the unmistakable sound of a hand hitting flesh, my body instinctively jumps.

My father, the drunk Alpha. The one nobody dared cross for fear of his wrath. He was a horrible leader, but still was the head of our pack and the largest and strongest of us all. Nothing could change that. And nothing ever would. My brother followed in his footsteps - always drinking and gambling. No one could touch him either as the next Alpha in line. He could get away with murder if he ever went that far.

My mother always favored him. From the moment he was born, even now as he's turned into a monster, she still loved him more. Somehow she had it in her head that she could still rescue him, still change him into the sweet boy he used to be. But there's no way that man, that beast, could ever change for the better.

The soft feeling of the rag drying off my puny porcelain hands soothed my thoughts from the violent sounds I had heard. I stepped back, admiring my work. The dishes were nicely stacked, shining clean and clear as the day they were made. A smile came to my slightly dirty face - I took pride in my thorough work. It always made my day brighter when I could finish my chores to the point of perfection, with everything in order as it should be.

"Emily!" I heard my name shouted angrily from down the hall, snapping me from my reverie.

"Coming!" I called to him, hanging the drying towel on its hook.

My hands grasped the sides of my hand-me-down dress, pulling the rough fabric away from my feet so I could walk faster. My shoes pounded on the hardwood floor as I made my way quickly to the sitting room where my father was. I made sure not to run - it was one of the many rules in our house.

I slowed when I neared, making sure not to anger the Alpha further. As I bowed my head, I noticed the room was in disarray.

*Great. I had just tidied this room only an hour ago!*

"Yes, sir?" I asked, head still bowed, eyes to the floor.

“Clean up this mess!” he replied gruffly, gesturing with his large hands to the room. “And when you’re finished, get started on supper. I’m starving!”

He stomped away, grabbing his half-empty beer bottle off the coffee table as he left. It was eerily silent with him gone, and the room seemed bigger without his intimidating figure within. I heaved a sigh of relief before bending over to pick up the item closest to me - one of the few books my father owned. It was dusty from disuse. Particles of dust billowed into the air as I brushed it clean before placing it on the top shelf where it belonged. I sang a song to myself while I picked up trinket after trinket, placing them in their correct spots. The melody captured me while I continued, swinging my tiny hips while I cleaned up the very room I had tidied earlier that day.

I continued my song, moving from the sitting room to the kitchen. Using both hands, I grabbed the two old and rusting black pots, setting them down on the stove with a clang. After filling the larger one with water and turning the burner on high, I placed the lid to allow the water to boil faster. I shuffled around the room with practiced steps and hands, grabbing the ingredients I needed for my favorite dish. Tonight I was going to make Alfredo with my homemade noodles and sauce recipe I had spent years perfecting.

The noodles had been made the other day and sat in the fridge, waiting to be used. The sauce swirled mesmerizingly, capturing my gaze. There was nothing in the world like cooking in the kitchen. It might have been a chore, but to me, it was freedom - the one place I had complete control.

Within a few minutes, I had added everything needed except the cheese. It was important to wait until the mixture was warm enough to melt the parmesan without making it chunk up. A smile crept up my face as the scent of it filled my nostrils. I closed my eyes for a minute, savoring the wonderful smell and the peace of being alone in the kitchen.

I tossed the homemade noodles into a metal strainer before setting it above the boiling water, letting the handle rest on the edge of the pot. The noodles would quickly heat back up while I prepared slices of French bread on plates for my family.

The noodles slipped from the spoon onto each plate as I served up the food. I drizzled the Alfredo Sauce onto the round plops of noodles, making sure it didn’t run into the bread on the side. The last thing I needed was for my favorite meal to be soiled by a beating for ‘ruining’ my father’s dish.

In the next room over, I heard my father plop down into his seat, his weight rattling the silverware.

“Emily! Where is dinner?” he bellowed.

I pushed through the door with my backside, the tray of plates balanced in my right hand while I held a pitcher of ice water in the other. The ice clinked as I poured my father a glass of water before everyone else. I placed his plate in front of him quickly and silently, keeping my eyes averted. I served my older brother next, his plate scraping slightly on the rickety wooden table. He stuck his booted foot out in an attempt to trip me, but I was prepared and sidestepped, pretending not to notice. I placed my mother’s food in front of her next, noticing a new maroon welt on her cheek. She didn’t even bother covering them up anymore. Sighing, I moved to my own rickety chair and sat down.

My mother and I sat demurely with our hands in our laps, waiting for my father to signal we could start eating, even though he and my brother were already digging in. As always, once he was satisfied his food was good enough, he grunted and gestured outward with his hand for us to begin eating. I kept my eyes on my plate as I picked up my fork to shovel the delicious food into my mouth.

My reflection on the shimmering plate caught my attention. The first thing I noticed was my messy bun leaning slightly to the left, strands of my dusty brown hair falling from the band and into my face. I brushed the bit of hair away, tucking it behind my ear. My amber eyes stared back at me, tired and seemingly older than they should. While I had been told by some that my eyes glinted in the sun like roaring flames, I only ever saw a dying spark. A tear formed in the corner, highlighting the glow. But the spark would never reignite the passion I once had inside. Before the tear could fall, I shook my head, letting the sorrowful thoughts leave. I turned back to my food, ignoring the sad girl on the surface of my plate.

As normal, I was in my own world as we ate. I hardly ever paid attention to anyone else during meals. The only time I ever looked up was when my name was explicitly called. But today, something caught my attention. I heard my brother mumbling something about his gambling adventures that day. He had been charged to go into the city for a job, but unsurprisingly found himself gambling all his money away instead. I only caught snippets, but when I heard my name grumbled from my brother’s mouth, my ears perked up.

“She’s only an Omega,” I heard him say with annoyance. “I don’t see the big deal. She’s meant to serve.”

Oh great. What did I have to do now?

As my father and my brother continued mumbling, I heard snippets. Something about the Enforcers - the second largest mafia gang around.

That couldn’t be good. What had Daniel gotten himself into this time? And what was my role in this?

I heard my name again, and I blanched. The noodles on my fork fell on my plate with a splat.

“I ran out of money, but I was sure I could win the last hand. So I bet Emily. How was I supposed to know the pompous heir could beat a full house?”