My Mafia Mate

Ella

It was well past midnight, and I was still stuck in the office.

The glare of my laptop screen was almost a comfort, a sign that I was working hard, that I was progressing.

“Almost done,” I murmured to myself with a sigh as I rubbed my tired eyes.

Such was life for me, though. At this point, I was getting used to spending all of my time here at the law firm.

As a rookie lawyer, I never expected to be treated like a queen, but surely they could see me for more than their errand runner?

“Could you get these photocopied for me, Ella?” James had asked earlier that day, handing over a stack of case files as if it was just assumed that I would be the one to do it.

And so I did, along with a dozen other tasks that didn't particularly scream ‘lawyer’. But I believed, perhaps foolishly, that perseverance would earn me respect and better opportunities.

It was my first year out of law school, after all. What did I expect?

The soft hum of the janitor’s vacuum cleaner interrupted my thoughts. It was already almost one o’clock, and my body was reminding me of its need for sleep with every aching muscle.

I stretched and started packing up when my phone buzzed with an incoming call. The screen read Mom & Dad. Sighing, I picked up.

“Hey, you two.”

“Ella? Are you at home now?” my father Edrick’s voice came through, a mix of concern and mild frustration.

“I’m still at work, Dad,” I replied, my voice laced with exhaustion.

“Ella! It's way past midnight!” my stepmother Moana chimed in, her voice a rich, melodic alto.

“I know, Mom, but I've got a ton to do.”

Moana. She was my stepmother. She used to be my nanny for a short time, but in a whirlwind romance, she and my dad got married and had my little sister. Moana was more of a real mother to me than my own biological mother could ever be.

Hearing her voice on a night like tonight was a comfort, but I couldn’t deny the fact that I was a little annoyed at my parents’ overbearing tendencies. They meant well, but sometimes they forgot that I was an adult who was capable of taking care of myself.

“Such a dangerous city to be out in so late,” my father murmured. “You remember the news from last week?”

I sighed. “Yes, dad. I remember. That was all the way on the other side of town.”

“It doesn’t matter, Ella,” my dad said, sounding exasperated. “That supermarket owner was held up at gunpoint. Gunpoint! I don’t need my little girl being in danger—”

“Dad, I love you, but I’m not defenseless,” I protested.

“I know.” My dad paused with a chuckle. I could imagine Moana standing beside him, her freckled hand touching his shoulder as she shot him a look as if to say ‘Enough, Edrick.’

“But you’re still my little girl,” he continued.

“I know, dad,” I replied, smiling slightly as I slipped my laptop into my bag. “You always make sure I don’t forget.”

Moana’s voice chimed in then. “Just get an Uber, Ella. Don't walk or take the subway. Okay?”

“Alright, alright,” I relented, smiling. “I love you both.”

“We love you too. Stay safe.” My stepmother’s voice held a warmth that always managed to seep into my heart.

They hung up, and I shook my head. They would never change.

I could have the life of luxury, protected and pampered in my dad’s penthouse. He was one of the most affluent Alphas in the world: the CEO of WereCorp, and the heir to the Morgan family fortune.

I was his heir, and I had just as much claim to that company and fortune as he did. The offer was always there, on the table. At any moment, I was more than welcome to go home, walk in my father’s footsteps, and work toward being the next CEO while living a life of boundless luxury.

But I chose this. I chose to stand on my own feet and make my mark. I chose to go to law school, move to this new city that desperately needed lawyers, and work my way up.

I didn't heed my father’s advice that night. After spending the past twelve hours sitting in a basement office with no window, the night air was refreshing. As I stepped out into the chilly night air, a gentle mist of rain dotted my skin.

I opted to walk. The shadows and sounds of the city didn’t scare me. They were simply part of the pulse, the heartbeat of a world alive even in darkness.

“You should listen to your parents, Ella,” my wolf, Ema, said, her voice echoing in my mind. She had been there ever since I could remember, a constant companion, a friend, a voice of reason.

“It’s fine, Ema,” I replied. Talking to her in my mind was innate, just as it was for most werewolves. My lips never even twitched. Sometimes, when I was little, I accidentally talked to her out loud, but that was normal.

Ema responded in a low growl. At first, I thought that she was growling at me, and I rolled my eyes and kept walking.

But that shifted when I heard whispers, shadows converging around me.

“Look what we’ve got here. A lone wolf out in the night,” a gritty voice mocked. The Rogues. I could sense their intentions, the greed in their eyes. I tightened my grip on my bag.

“Stay back,” I warned, baring my fangs.

A grin spread across the leader's face. He was an ugly sort, with a big scar running across the diagonal of his face.

“Make us, little girl.”

They closed in on me. With lightning reflexes, I aimed a punch at the nearest one, who crumpled.

“Shit!” one guy said, his eyes widening. “Looks like we’ve got an Alpha here, boys? Who would have thought? Today’s our lucky day!”

My punch only spurred on the rest. They came at me from all sides, even more fervently now that they knew my status.

The realization hit me. They didn’t just see a girl. They saw a potential bounty. An Alpha beneath the guise of plain attire.

Rogues in my home city were often confined to one district, which was typically guarded heavily by the police. Many of them were drug addicts and petty criminals.

Here, they were still drug addicts and petty criminals—but there was no ‘district’ to keep them in. They roamed freely, and the local law enforcement had their plates too full to keep watch over every Rogue for thievery and muggings.

More Rogues came out of the shadows. A whole gang of them. They were all sneering, chuckling, flashing their menacing teeth and scarred faces.

“Back off!” I growled, feeling myself begin to shift as my instincts from years of Alpha training began to kick in. “I’ll take every last one of you down!”

As my warning echoed throughout the dimly lit alley, a palpable tension settled. The leader just smirked.

“Little girl thinks she can fight, huh?”

He lunged for me. I dodged in a swift motion, using my elbow to strike him squarely in the jaw. He staggered back, pain flashing momentarily across his face. But I had no time to relish in the small victory, as another Rogue lunged at me from behind.

Twisting around with grace and speed, I caught him by the wrist, flipping him over my shoulder. His body crashed into a nearby pile of cardboard boxes.

But I was heavily outnumbered. My Alpha skills only drew more of them out of the shadows, intrigued by my prowess. To them, a long Alpha female was a walking goldmine. They thought I had money.

I could feel them closing in from all sides, their sneers and mocking laughter fueling my anger. I launched a series of kicks and punches. Each movement was precise and targeted. I managed to land blows on two more Rogues, but fatigue was setting in, and there were just too many.

One Rogue managed to grab my arm, pulling me off balance. I could feel the tide turning against me. I wrenched my arm free, but I was pressed up against the wall now with nowhere to go.

“She put up a good fight,” the leader said, wiping a bit of blood away from his lip. “But not good enough.”

Suddenly, the roar of engines pierced the night. Three black Bentleys emerged, surrounding us, throwing light over the alley. I raised my arm to shield my eyes, blinded by the light.

And then from the light came a scent. It was so intoxicating that I felt my knees go weak. Strong arms wrapped themselves around me while I was still reeling.

“Touch her, and it’ll be the last thing you do,” a deep voice growled.

The Rogues dispersed like rats, disappearing into the shadows. I turned, meeting the gaze of my savior. Tall, with deep-set eyes and an air of command. There was no mistaking it.

A force deep within me stirred. My wolf acknowledged the bond even before my brain could process it.

“Mate,” Ema hissed.

“You,” I whispered, lost for words. The stranger’s lips quirked into a smile.

“Me.”

Fate, it seemed, had a funny way of making introductions. And just like that, in the heart of the dangerous city, beneath the cloak of night, my journey as a lawyer intersected with the path of destiny itself.