The Alphas' Pride Mate (The Pride Who Goes Into Heat)

BLOOD, POWER AND DEBT.

Chapter: 23
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Dirk arrived at the mansion of Southingfield's corrupt politician, Dante Klien. Their relationship was built on a favor Dirk had done for Dante, ensuring his escape from imprisonment and securing his position as the Mayor of Southingfield. In return, Dante had promised to pay a substantial sum for Dirk's protection.

However, weeks had passed, and Dante had failed to fulfill his end of the bargain. His newfound power as the mayor had filled him with a sense of pride, blinding him to the debt he owed to the man who had put him in that position. Dirk's patience had worn thin, and he decided it was time to remind Dante of his place.

Dirk carried his trusty walking cane, crafted from solid hardwood. It symbolized power and authority. His intention was clear—either Dante would pay his debt or suffer the consequences.

As Dirk stepped through the grand entrance of the mansion, his eyes scanned the lavish surroundings. Gilded chandeliers cast a warm glow over the opulent decor, a stark contrast to the tension in the air. He made his way to Dante's study, where the mayor awaited his presence.

Dante, seemingly oblivious to the storm that was about to descend upon him, greeted Dirk with false confidence. "Ah, Dirk, it's good to see you. I trust you've been enjoying the fruits of our arrangement," he said, a smug smile playing across his face.

Dirk's gaze hardened, his voice laced with fury. "You seem to have forgotten the terms of our agreement, Dante. The payment you owe me has yet to materialize, and your arrogance has pushed my patience to its limits."

Dante, feeling a surge of misplaced pride as the mayor, attempted to assert himself. "You underestimate me, Dirk. I won't be bullied into submission. I am the mayor of Southingfield."

Dirk's anger simmered beneath his calm exterior. He needed to assert his dominance, to remind Dante of the consequences of crossing him. "I made you, Dante," he said, his voice low and menacing.

Dante's false bravado faltered, a flicker of fear crossing his face. "I have paid my dues," he muttered, trying to regain control.

Groaning, Dirk tightened his grip on the cane. "That was never in the agreement. The agreement was that as long as you're in this seat as mayor, you continue to pay your protection money."

Pride filled Dante, and he rose from his seat, standing before Dirk with a mocking smile. "You will not get another penny out of me!" he declared, his voice dripping with defiance.

Dirk's eyes narrowed, a dangerous glint appearing. He could no longer tolerate Dante's insolence. The time for negotiations had ended. "Oh, Dante, you have no idea what you're up against. You think the title of mayor grants you invincibility? Allow me to shatter that illusion."

Dirk's pent-up rage exploded like a raging inferno, consuming any remnants of mercy or restraint. He launched himself at Dante, his walking cane transformed into a weapon of vengeance. Each strike landed with bone-crushing force, shattering Dante's body and spirit. The room reverberated with the sickening sound of bones breaking and flesh tearing as Dirk's men stood guard, ensuring no one interfered.

Dante, writhing in agony, realized he was utterly alone. The full extent of Dirk's brutality became shockingly clear as he stared into the eyes of a man possessed by his own fury. No longer hindered by his disability, Dirk's single-legged stance seemed to only amplify the strength and savagery within him. Dante's arrogance had blinded him to this horrifying truth.

A wave of terror washed over Dante as he caught sight of Dirk's cane hurtling down towards him with unrelenting force. Blood cascaded from his wounds, blending with the sweat and tears that stained his face. His survival instinct finally shattered his pride, and he gasped for breath between desperate pleas. "Please... stop... I'll do anything... just spare me."

Dirk, his anger subsiding momentarily, paused to survey the broken man lying before him. A twisted smile curled upon his lips, an eerie contrast to the violence that had unfolded. "Anything, you say? Then pay your debt, Dante. Pay it now."

Stammering and struggling to find words amidst the pain, Dante managed to mutter, "Dirk, I... I assure you, the payment is on its way. There have been unforeseen delays, but I'll make it right."

Dirk's features softened slightly, loosening his grip on the cane. "Smart move, Dante. Remember, you owe me, and I always collect my debts." He straightened himself, his voice cold and commanding. "One hour, Dante."

"Yes, Boss," Dante groaned, spitting blood from his broken mouth.

Content with Dante's submission, Dirk ended his brutal assault, allowing Dante to writhe in agony on the unforgiving floor. He motioned for Bogo, his loyal associate, to step forward. Bogo approached, his expression a mix of apprehension and loyalty, as Dirk observed the scene with a steely gaze.

"Bring me a new suit... I have a meeting to attend," Dirk commanded, his voice dripping with authority.

Bogo swiftly produced a brand-new suit, untouched by the stains of violence, ready for moments like this. Dirk, his clothes soaked in blood, proceeded to cross over the barely conscious mayor and made his way to Dante's private bathroom.

Dirk stepped into the marble bathroom, its gleaming fixtures a stark contrast to the violence that had unfolded just moments ago. He allowed the warm water to wash away the remnants of his savagery, the crimson trails swirling down the drain. As he emerged from the bathroom, a renewed sense of purpose enveloped him. The new suit clung to his form, restoring his aura of dominance and control. He turned to Bogo, his voice commanding yet appreciative. "Take care of the bloodied suit, Bogo. Dispose of it without a trace."

Bogo nodded, his loyalty unwavering, as he collected the stained garment and swiftly walked away.

With the remnants of his brutality erased, Dirk cast one final glance at the broken and defeated Dante, lying helpless on the floor. A mixture of satisfaction and superiority danced in his eyes as he muttered, "Remember who holds the power."

Leaving behind a chilling reminder of his authority, Dirk exited the mansion and slipped into his waiting car. The driver, well-versed in the art of evasion, steered through the city's darkened streets, carrying Dirk to his next meeting. The sound of the roaring engine drowned out the echoes of suffering, while the city of Southingfeild faded into the distance, leaving behind a trail of blood, power, and a debt irrevocably settled.