The Lord's Heritage

Christian was tired of it all. He was tired of these men trying to make a fool out of him. Tired of life at school, where many people bathe in his presence- be it fans fawning over him, or teammates wanting to share the glory he brings. He was also tired of the teachers trying to get on his good side, mainly the females. All because of who his father was.

Rather… who his ‘caretaker’ was.

Although he is of the Riverdale family, he is but an adopted son. No, he was just being taken care of by them. Yet, despite that, not only did anyone not mind the indirect relationship with such (distinguished) family- not when he had the skills and smarts to back it up- he never felt like a part of the family. Not because he was never treated well there, but more because he himself never bothered to get close to them. Not his adopted family, not the servants, nobody. Not after what happened to his mother in that household.

Although he could not remember her face, he could still remember it well. The treatment his mother got throughout his young childhood. She had done nothing to deserve all that hurt, and yet she was always treated like some toy. Worse, a criminal. So much so, one day, she just disappeared.

People say it was a kidnapping, but he knew better than that, especially after all these fourteen years of nothing. Not a single report or clue was heard nor told since the day she was gone, and despite the servants’ promise that something will come up, that his mother will be found, he stopped believing in their words. Despite his ‘father’s’ promise that they will find his mother, it was nothing but an empty promise. And with how he was told by the guy and his wife to treat them like his own parents out in public…

‘They have no intention whatsoever to find her,’ he soon realized. A realization that made him run away from that mansion, and form this mafia group at a young age.

It was not easy, forming one at a young age. Why normally, a young child his age wouldn’t be able to form such a group, much less lead it. For Christian, though, it was not that hard. Not when…

“Excuse me, Alpha.” Christian instantly narrowed his eyes at the call, as he tossed the pen that had been in his hand at the source. A yelp was heard, as the pen fly right past someone’s head, and be embedded in a wall behind them, point-first.

“I believe it should already be known to every member in this mafia to not call me that. Or are you still too wet behind the ears to get that through your head?” Christian questioned, much to the messenger’s fright.

“N-No, Al- I-I mean, milord!” he yelped with a salute. “My deepest apologies. It’s a terrible slip of the tongue.”

Christian glared at the guy then, and the messenger suddenly prostrated on the floor, kept down by some mysterious force. “That shouldn’t matter much, should it?” the young man spoke, frightening the downed individual even more. “A mafia member who does not comply to their leader’s order shall be severely punished. Or do you mean to say werewolves are different?”

Werewolves… A dangerous species that was known to be nothing but myths in the human world, when they are just as real as anything else. Christian was shocked to learn of such heritage, and grew disgusted by it. Specifically, by the fact that werewolves looked down on humans- the reason why his mother was discriminated by the servants so long ago. More than that, for him to be half werewolf when his mother was but a human? He never liked his father before for leaving his mother, but now that he knew a little more of who his father was- of what he was- his dislike for the man who fooled his mother grew all the more, to the point that he expressed hatred for all werewolf kind.

The only thing he liked about his heritage was the ability to control the other werewolves. An ability he had discovered when he overheard one of the Riverdale servants badmouthing his missing mother. He was so enraged at the time, he unknowingly forced the servant and their accomplice to take a knee and stutter out an apology in fright, which led to him learning about his blood, and the Riverdales to explain in detail about what werewolves really do, especially ones like him.

“I-I’m sorry. I won’t make the same mistake again,” the messenger pleaded.

Christian only approached the guy, and set a foot right on his head, undoing the force he placed. “Other than that, why are you here if not to patronize me?” he questioned.

“A-A call… From Mr. Retchet,” the messenger answered, holding up a cellphone.

Christian raised a brow at the response, before taking the device in his hand. “This better be good, Retchet. I know I sent you and the others on a simple mission that does not need a call.”

"Yes, that may be true. However, there is a bit of complications in this one," Retchet said, prompting Christian to raise a confused brow. "One of the debtors wish to sell his daughter to us."