"This is security," Stefano replied smoothly. "Close protection detail requires… close proximity."
"How convenient for you," I muttered, unable to look at Matteo as he hung a particularly embarrassing pair with cartoon avocados saying "Let's Avo-Cuddle" on them. "And the underwear fondling? Is that a special Italian security technique?"
"Efficiency," Matteo answered before Stefano could, his voice matter-of-fact. "Helping where needed builds rapport with the protectee's family. Standard procedure."
Uncle Jiro nodded in agreement. "Very thoughtful of them. Your father chose well with these three."
The casual mention of my father sent a flash of anger through me. Of course he was behind this. The man who'd locked me away for eight years was now surrounding me with alpha handlers disguised as protection.
"I'm going inside," I announced abruptly, unable to bear another moment of watching Matteo arrange my underwear while Stefano studied me like I was a particularly interesting specimen and Marco charmed my uncle with tomato talk.
"Running away, little prince?" Stefano called after me. "I thought we were having such a pleasant conversation."
I turned back just long enough to flip him off, earning a disapproving click of the tongue from Uncle Jiro and a delighted laugh from Marco.
"So spirited," I heard Marco say as I stormed toward the house.
I slammed the door behind me, leaning against it as I tried to process the complete invasion of my life that was unfolding. They weren't just camping nearby—they were infiltrating every aspect of my existence, charming my guardians, handling my intimate possessions, making themselves essential and welcome.
And the worst part? Some traitorous part of me was thrilled they were here.
I spent the rest of the day in my room, only venturing out for necessities, avoiding windows that might give me a glimpse of the alphas. But I couldn't stop myself from checking their positions periodically, peering through the curtains to track their movements around our property.
Stefano remained mostly near the garden, alternating between reading his book and watching the property with vigilant eyes. Marco moved between helping Uncle Jiro and chatting with Aunt Akiko, his charm offensive clearly working as I heard my aunt's delighted laughter floating through the open windows. Matteo finished with the laundry and proceeded to fix three different things around the property that I hadn't even realized were broken.
By evening, I felt like I was under siege. Not a violent assault, but something more insidious—a slow, methodical dismantling of my defenses. They weren't just invading my space; they were making themselves indispensable, worming their way into the good graces of the only people I trusted.
When Aunt Akiko called me down for dinner, I seriously considered barricading my door. The mouthwatering aroma of her curry drifting upstairs was almost enough to tempt me—until I heard the deep rumble of alpha voices from our dining room.
"Leo-kun! Dinner's ready!" Aunt Akiko called again, her tone making it clear this wasn't a request.
I dragged myself reluctantly from my surveillance post at the window, pausing at my dresser to pop three suppressants from the bottle Aunt Akiko had left with a not-so-subtle note: "Take these. Three alphas = three times normal dose."
She wasn't wrong. Even with distance and walls between us, their combined scents had been leaking into my space all day, making concentration impossible. One alpha was manageable. Three was a biological assault.
When I finally trudged downstairs, I froze in the doorway of our modest dining room. It suddenly looked like a dollhouse furniture set occupied by giants. All three alphas were seated at our table, making the sturdy oak piece seem ridiculously undersized. Stefano and Marco sat on one side with an empty chair between them that I immediately knew was meant for me. Matteo was opposite, next to Uncle Jiro, while Aunt Akiko bustled around, laying out serving dishes.
The space felt compressed, charged with an energy that made the hair on my arms stand up. Their combined scents—pine and winter from Stefano, cinnamon and amber from Marco, cedar and rain from Matteo—had completely overwhelmed our usually neutral-smelling home. It was like being dunked headfirst in alpha pheromones.
"There you are," Stefano said, those cobalt eyes finding mine immediately. "We were beginning to think you'd escaped through a window."
"Don't tempt me," I muttered, hovering in the doorway like a reluctant guest in my own home. "I'm still considering it as a viable option."
Aunt Akiko clicked her tongue disapprovingly. "Leo-kun, don't be rude. Sit down so we can eat."
"There seems to be a shortage of seating options," I observed, eyeing the empty chair between Stefano and Marco with undisguised suspicion. "How unfortunate. I'll just grab a tray and eat in my?—"
"Sit," Uncle Jiro said firmly, pointing to the empty chair. "Our guests have been kind enough to join us. The least you can do is be civil."
Guests. Right. More like invasive predators who've somehow convinced my guardians they're harmless.
With the same enthusiasm I might show for a dental extraction without anesthesia, I slid into the chair between the two alphas. Immediately, the space felt even smaller, their body heat radiating from both sides, their scents enveloping me despite the suppressants.
"Cozy," Marco commented with obvious amusement, his thigh pressing against mine under the table as he shifted to "make room." The contact sent an electric jolt up my leg that I desperately tried to ignore.
"I could get you a booster seat if you're having trouble reaching the table," I offered sweetly, trying to reclaim some control through sarcasm. "We might have one in the attic from when I was five."
Stefano chuckled, the sound vibrating through his chest and somehow transmitting directly to my nervous system. "Always so hospitable, little prince."
