The heartless mafia Alpha king

chapter 32 the queen

A thirteen-year-old boy ran across a huge garden lawn at great speed, disregarding the only thing isolating the building behind him from where he just ran out.

"Father, father!"

The boy hurriedly called, his voice shaking with excitement and nervousness.

"Father!"

The boy yelled again, stepping into the main building. His footsteps were hurried as he barged into the receiving halls, not caring about the snide or angry remarks he got from the maids he had pushed aside due to his haste.

"Father!" The boy's voice rang, alerting everyone to his presence.

The joy in his voice, detected by the light in his eyes, caused scowls on two deadly women.

"Insolent!" One of the women jabbed, angrily yanking the boy by his collar. "What is a brat like you doing here? Are you here to steal or pollute this place with your foul smell?"

"Speak up!" The woman fussed, "On whose permission are you here? Who let this beast into the main house?" The woman questioned him angrily, her grip on his collar getting stronger and stronger by the minute; it seemed like he was being choked in broad daylight!

"Let go!"

The boy struggled, his hand flying to the collar, trying to loosen the grip of her fingers, but it proved to have made it worse!

"Bastard!" The voice chided him, hitting him in the face.

Smack!

"Have you no shame? Answer the damn question! On whose authority are you here?!"

A brightly colored handprint stained the fair face of the boy, his eyes turning slightly red as tears threatened to spill.

"Let go; I have to see my father." He begged, still struggling to escape her death-like grip.

The woman sneered, "And have you stolen something?"

"I didn't steal anything!" He refuted, "That was Fredrick."

Smack!

Another handprint stained his face. "Is this how your mother trained you? Spilling lies when necessary?"

"You leave my mother out of this!" The boy argued unwaveringly with a glare, his hands turning into claws, swiping at the fists at his collar.

"Ah!"

The voice screamed in pain and rage, forcefully letting go of her grasp as red lines appeared on her skin along with claw marks.

"You pig!" The woman cried, "This is what I get for trying to correct you! Truly, you deserve to be labeled as a beast not fit to be a prince!"

"You can't blame him," the second woman said for the first time, her voice a high taunt. "After all, he was birthed by a lying royal pig himself! And do pigs have manners or show appreciation for raising them?" She asked with her chin raised in the air, disgust settling as she glowered at him.

The boy's eyes shone a light gold as he growled at her, ready to attack.

"What?" The second woman teased, "Don't like what I said?"

"Growl," he hissed like a rabid dog, "get out of my way; I have no business with you."

"My, my. What a bold statement from someone like you! It's so chilling that I almost want to obey, but you see, I feel repulsed seeing you." She provoked. "What are you going to do now? Hit me?"

"If I could, I would." He snarled.

"Marcos!"

An outraged voice called, his eyes shining bright red in rage.