Claimed by The Rogue Alpha
Claimed By The Rogue Alpha Chapter 66

==Matteo==

The building was actively burning, coughing out puffs upon puffs of smoke.

I charged towards the entrance, not minding the sharp objects littered around and the bedlam around me. The fierce flames shooting out from the building did little to deter me. I dove forward and jostled into the building, coming to arrive at the lobby. The smoke was dense here. It went straight into my nose, irritating me. It hurt my lungs and I coughed. Hard.

I looked around me. All i saw was destruction. Blinded by rage, I growled. The deep guttural sound leapt from the depth of my stomach. It was evidence of anger and hurt. Before I knew it, red covered my vision and I was pounding hard on someone.

I held it by the neck and punched hard, deep into his face. I punched, vetting all my anger, all my bitterness on him until he bleed. That didn't make me stop. The sour smell of blood only irked me more, making me continue with the battery.

Then, someone hit my back. I left the bleedy fucker and faced this new threat. That was when I left the person and faced this new threat. I punched him hard in his stomach, and delivered an uppercut before facing other people. In a matter of minutes, I became the main target. It was a handicapped match.

Against my better judgement, I morphed. I let my wolf, Gould, emerge in the full glare of everyone. I growled, my eyes blazing. I was prepared to fight. I was ready to kill.

Someone lunged at me. I caught him by his throat. Squeezing tightly, I drove him to the ground, growled and beaned him. That single hit knocked him off.

I picked him up and tossed his limb body to the advancing crowd.

He fell flat on the floor. I took my gaze from him, fixing it to the crowd. I need not to be distracted. They all charged at me, and I being prepared, tackled each and everyone of them down. Some backed off, while the few that remained were at my mercy. I fished out blows here and there and in no time, there was none remaining.

Still in my wolf form, I raced to the staircase. I climbed the stairs, scaring away the few humans that were scattered here and there. As I raced toward my office, I morphed back to my normal self. I got to my office and was met with the same heartbreak. Disarray. My office had become a skeleton.

I stepped in, even with the raging flame barring my way.

==Matteo==

"Wakey, wakey," someone said, brushing my cheek. I stirred, my eyes peeling open. I came to see the familiar face. A smile accompanying.

"Mamma," I said, still groggy from the long night. "Buongirono, Mamma."

"Buongirono. Avete dormito bene?"

I nodded, rubbing my eyes as I sat up.

"Oh! You really fell into a deep sleep." She chuckled, plucking off the boogers in my eyes.

"Are you sure?" I reached for my alarm by the nightstand. I gasped saw the time. "Nine a.m? Please, tell me Papà hasn't left yet." Mamma had on that look of amusement that made me groan.

"Mamma."

"What? Remember I told you to get to bed early, but you wouldn't listen." My mood dampened. "Anyway, I'll take you."

My eyes lit up.

"Right after we drop Nonno at the airport," she said.

"Sure."

"And we get those braces fixed."

Warmth left my face. I gaped at Mamma. Braces?

"There's nothing wrong with it. See..." I flashed my teeth at her.

Mom squinted, a lips pursed. "Hmm. Seems there's a lot wrong with it, Matteo. A lot."

"Mamma...."

"We will be done before you know it, okay?"

I sighed.

"Okay, honey?"

I nodded.

"Great," she chirped. "come in now, go brush your teeth."

***

Mamma brought the car to a stop. By our right was the Papa's company. Its massive marbled structure called beckoned on me. Mamma opened the door and I unbuckled my seat belt. I stepped down, and joined my hand with hers. Together, we climbed the flight of stairs. We went through the revolving door.

The workers greeted her and she returned their greeting with a smile.

"Ciao, Picco!" a man said. I didn't reply, but Mamma did.

"Morning, Yosef. How's everything going...." The rest of their conversation wasn't recorded because I was seething. The Picco-calling guy soon left us and we entered the elevator.

"Can you tell me what that was about, young man?"

I glanced at her with a deadpanned look. "Nothing."

She didn't say anything, but rather took her eyes away. She sighed.

We rode in silence, soon coming to a stop As we stepped out, Mama said, "You don't want to ruin your day, Matteo. Uncle Yosef is old enough to be your Papà."

"But he's not." And will never be. Mamma knew how much I hated to be called Picco. Well, it wasn't until recently that the hatred came to be and she couldn't grab the rationale behind that After all, Piccolo was my middle name.

Mamma's sigh came again. "Whatever. The next time you see him and fail to be respectful, Mrs. Jonas will be glad to have you."

I shot my gaze up at Mamma. She tipped her head as if to say, 'yes, Mrs. Jonas.' I shuddered at the thought of sitting in front of the middle aged woman, listening to her tell me what hell waited for kids who failed to honour their parents. The woman was terrifying. It only made me wonder why she called herself a Sunday school teacher.

We got to the end of the hallway which was where Papa's office was, and Mamma knocked before slipping the door open a bit. Tailin behind her, I walked in.

Papa's voice entered my ears. He was speaking to someone. Mamma decided we sit and wait for him. While we did, she texted him.

"Dai andiamo," she said, offering me her hand.

When we got to Papà's inner chambers, I ran and embraced him.

"Signorino," he called, his hand patting my back.

"Buongirono, Papa."

He nodded. His affectionate blue eyes smiled at me for a moment. "Can you give me a second, buddy? Wanna round things up."

I nodded and I returned to the waiting room. Good thing I'd got my Nintendo game. A couple of minutes later, Papà called me in. I was in the middle of the game and was about to score a point. Without thinking much if it, I tossed the pad aside and pranced firward to meet Papà. Updated by FindNovel.net, visit for more free novels. I climbed on his laps and he circled his arms around me.

Mamma dropped our lunch by the table. "So, see you guys later," she said and pecked me on the cheek.

"So," Papa said. "Ready for a tour, huh?"

My answer was a cheeky grin.

In the next couple minutes, Papà took my round the company. The tour started in his office. He let me know what certain things were and how he worked from his desktop computer. He then showed me the conference room and told me what went on there. I sat on the chair reserved for him and imagined being the boss.

"Michele, today, we'll be making..." I thought of what to say. Then, came up with, "Whipped cream coated smoothie liquor. I..."

Papà's resounding laughter cut me short. A smile crept onto my face.

Sobering up, Papà supported himself with a chair. "Wow, that's quite a brand."

After the conference room, we made it to the cellar. A lot, and I meant, a lot of drinks where there. We first passed through a small room that housed what Papà called 'the old beauties'. The vintage of the vintage. Papà told me that old wine tasted better, and I couldn't comprehend that. How was that possible?

He was there to explain. "Wines have juicies hidden in them. Now, as they get older, these juicies spill out and make the wine ten thousand times better."

I still didn't get the message, but I pretended to have done so. From the cellar, we got into a elevator. We descended and came upon this extremely large room. We stood on what appeared to be a balcony, looking down on the very many bottles of wine and sea of workers.

"Wow," I said, my lips ajar. I couldn't believe the majesty that met my eyes. "So cool."

Papà made a little throaty laugh. "This is where we package the wine. Make them cool to the eyes before selling them."

I watched as people handled the bottles with precision. So, this was it. Mamma had told me that the wines were made back home in Tuscany.

"Fantastico, vero."

"Way cool," I replied, not taking my eyes off the scene before me. "Papa, non vedo l'ora di lavorare qui."

Papà drew me close to him. His hand on my shoulder. "Non vedo l'ora, Signorino. And I know you will make a good CEO."

I didn't ask Papà what he meant by CEO. My eight-year-old brain was more interested in the awesomeness before me.