The Alpha's Gamble - Chapter 56: Chapter 56

NOAH
My father had just finished telling me his plan for how I could “prove myself.” It took every ounce of control not to roll my eyes, or worse, to rip the smug grin off the face of the bitch standing behind him. Clara. His new lapdog. She followed him like a shadow, stuck to his side like she belonged there. That wasn’t even the worst part. I could handle her face. Sure, it pissed me off, but I could deal. What made me homicidal was her mouth, constantly running about shit she didn’t have the slightest clue about. My father needed to tighten her leash, or I swear to God, I’d do it for him, with her severed head as proof.
“That’s too kind,” Onyx growled in my head. He was sick of her, too. Ready to fight for dominance just to shut her the hell up. We’ll deal with her one day, I told him. Just not yet. She wore that sugary-sweet smile like a badge of honor, but she couldn’t hide the psychotic gleam in her eyes. Clara loved the power my father gave her. She was a leech, feeding on his authority until he had nothing left. My father was many things. I could write a goddamn encyclopaedia on the ways he’d monumentally screwed up, but one thing he’d never been was stupid. Until her. Now? Every decision he made was filtered through her approval. She sat in on meetings, got filled in on strategies, and spoke like she had authority. None of the other women had ever gotten that. They knew their place, ornamental, disposable. They never got past the curtain he kept drawn around his mind. But Clara? Somehow, she had broken through. And he was letting her. He was becoming soft, a shell of the Alpha he used to be.
“What do you say? Do you agree to my terms?” he asked. The terms: train the warriors, participate in pack events, lead the charge against the rogue camped just outside our territory… and the kicker? Make sure Logan doesn’t fuck up anymore. Basically: parent my brother, like I’ve been doing since he was five. Because our father sure as hell never took responsibility for the psycho he helped create.
“I agree,” I said flatly, fingers twisted behind my back until I heard a satisfying crack. Clara clapped like an overenthusiastic seal.
“Wonderful!” she squealed. “That’s great, Noah. It’s good to see you finally taking accountability for your mistakes.” I smiled at her. And imagined her choking. I was about to lose it—but then the door flew open. Trevor stormed in like a thundercloud with a vendetta. Clara gasped, hand to her chest, but Trevor didn’t even look at her. He went straight for my father, grabbed him by the collar, and dragged him across the desk.
“Trevor!” Clara shrieked. Then she turned on me.
“Do something!” she snapped, baring her teeth like a scolded Chihuahua.
“I did,” I said, expression blank. “I agreed to his terms. My job here is done.” Trevor flung my father down the hallway like a garbage sack, right into the side table by the corner. It cracked on impact. Ouch. That strength? New. Clara screamed his name and ran after him, heels clacking. I followed, too, would’ve brought popcorn if I’d known this would be the evening entertainment. I’d never seen anyone match my father. Trevor? He was always background noise. Polite. Weak. Unimpressive. But not today. There was something else beneath his skin, something dangerous. No man threw an Alpha with that kind of force unless he had something to hide. Who the hell was Trevor really?
“Noah!” Clara begged, whipping her head toward me.
“He’s your husband. You help him,” I said dryly. Maddie was standing next to me, wide-eyed. She’d caught the first act and stayed out of it, which, for once, was the right call. Good girl, I thought. Finally learning when to shut up. Clara was still gasping and fuming like the big bad wolf who didn’t get to eat Red Riding Hood. I could practically smell her frustration bubbling. And now… we wait. Wait for the explosion. The fire. The storm. Maddie stepped forward, twitchy with nerves. I caught her by the arm and yanked her back.
“Don’t,” I warned. “They’re grown men. Let them fight it out.”
“Seriously?” she hissed.
“Dead serious.” I held her in place as the real show unfolded in front of us. My father rose, his wolf flaring beneath his skin, eyes glowing. Trevor didn’t flinch; he met him with equal force. They collided again, fists swinging. Trevor sucker-punched him and threw him into the wall. Concrete dust rained down. My father recovered and punched back, square in the jaw. I heard the crack from where I stood. They kept going. Fierce. Animalistic. Each strike carved into the air with power and pain. This was no simple fight—this was a reckoning. But all good things end. Logan came barreling down the hallway, jumped between them, and pulled our father back.
“What the fuck is going on here?!” I grabbed Maddie and pulled her behind me, eyes on my father.
“Is this one of those times where I’m supposed to hold him back and make sure he doesn’t fuck up?” I asked, voice like a blade. Dad turned, red-faced and breathing like a bull ready to charge. His eyes burned.
“Watch it,” he growled, in unison with Onyx. But Trevor wasn’t done. While my father was distracted, Trevor landed another hit. And then he spoke.
“You’re throwing my daughter into the ring with a Russian?” His voice was low, venomous. “I will kill you for this, Jack. I will fucking kill you.” No threats. No hesitation. This wasn’t the Trevor I knew. This man had been asleep for years. And now? He was wide awake.
“And you.” He turned his head and locked eyes with Clara, who quickly relaxed.