My Father Sold Me to a bunch of Crazy Alphas
Chapter 62: Culprit No. 1 ( Claus’s POV )

Chapter 62: Culprit No. 1 ( Claus’s POV )

The training the Prime Minister made me go through scarred me for life. Not only emotionally, but physically too.

Long traces of red bruised flesh were left behind by the servant’s whips. They applied extra force when the results were lacking more and more closer to the deadline.

Who would have blamed them?

In the last three days, Madam would come herself to watch my progress. Least to say she was disappointed.

I think it wasn’t the disappointment that drove her to turn the whips on the servants that handled them before. It was fear. Terror that the same whips she was using on them will turn into whips her husband will use on her.

So the blood and the screams of my teachers didn’t soften her.

She was determined to spark revenge and merciless vengeance inside their souls so my punishment for my negligence in the studies would be more thorough.

After all, to shape a hopeless, uneducated alpha into the heir of the Prime Minister is less than a week was an impossible task.

If they didn’t use all the tactics to train me, they wouldn’t risk only their lives, but the lives of their family and friends.

Some were motivated by the reward as well. The chance of a life of no financial worry and social approval for not only them, but generations to come.

Needless to say, the dog training of the Prime Minister juggles between extremely tempting compensations to borderline inhumane punishments. All of it was efficient.

On me.

On the staff.

On his own wife.

I’m surviving on a dream. Me and Luther. A hut at the edge of the sea. Maybe a kid or two who look like him.

So I am enduring all the pain-

The cursing, the harsh words, the beatings for it.

For Luther and our children.

Sleepless nights tend to numb the pain. I still study social etiquette and the aristocratic connections even at night.

By the end of the week, I need to present myself as if I were born into the position of the Prime Minister’s son.

It’s my only chance to save Luther from Emiliano’s arms.

We still have to endure the years to come of Cassian’s influence and supremacy, but he is only human. His death will inaugurate the start of our life together.

Our freedom.

Our happiness.

So the whips don’t hurt anymore, even if they’re bruising my ribs, my thighs, my stomach. Even my tears are nothing but condensed hope for a bright future.

Before the night of the auction, the Prime Minister himself visited the basement.

It was no surprise since a table was set a couple of hours prior and the wet room was fixed up.

On the massive wooden table, two sets of cutlery were placed opposite each other at the heads of it.

He sat down first. Behind him, I could see Madam mumbling a trail prayer.

The servants stood behind her with trembling hands and their heads hanging low. The contrast between their whitewashed faces dripping pools of sweat at their feet and the red blemished hands still holding the memory of the whip handle was giving the bunch an eerie look.

Cassian extended his arm to show me the seat, approving my place at the head of the table. I nodded slightly and pulled my chair without making any noise.

I placed the satin napkin on my lap with one swift move.

The Prime Minister grabbed the champagne glass. Opposed from my training, he grabbed it by the coupe instead of the leg of the glass.

Without any hesitation, I mimicked his gesture.

He raised his eyebrow disapprovingly. I could hear a servant’s quiet sobs echoing in the room.

"I see you have yet to learn."

Cassian’s tone was cold and stern. Just enough to make Madam behind him to deepen herself even more in her prayers.

"A mistake is only a mistake when a singular person does it. If more individuals do it, it becomes the new norm."

I stopped a second to calm the heartbeat that threatened to pulse out of my throat. I quietly exhaled and continued:

"If my father makes such a mistake and I act the opposite, it translates as me belittling him. If we both act the same, it becomes a family habit."

"Good. Very good."

He left the champagne glass on the table and got up, leaving the feast on the table untouched.

I raised myself too and let my hands still hold the champagne glass.

"Why do you still hold it? I thought mimicking your father was the most respectful way to act."

I cleared my throat.

"If I were to stay still at the table, I would prove a lack of respect. If I had crossed my arms, it would mean irritation. Holding my hands together, front or back, would mean submission."

"Isn’t submission good?"

"No. A good heir is a respectable one. A man serving another in such an open manner, even though it would mean serving his father, it’s deemed weak. A weak heir brings shame."

Cassian crossed his arms and smirked. I continued:

"Any gesture of another kind would have been pendant between disrespect and weakness. By grabbing the champagne in such a casual manner, I prove I get what I want without being greedy or lacking respect."

"Barbara trained you well I see."

"Madam was ruthless. I had no choice but to be a good student."

The Prime Minister snapped his fingers slightly, letting out such a dim noise, the buzzing of the light bulb covered it entirely.

Two more butlers entered each with a little red box.

Cassian grabbed the first one and slid it across the table. He gestured to me to open it.

Upon opening it, a silver signet ring with a red ruby stone in the middle nearly blinded me.

"Put it on!"

Cassian’s order moved my body without me even realizing it. The ring sat on my finger screaming the power and status of its owner.

The Prime Minister nodded in satisfaction.

"Fits right in, huh, son?"

"Thank you, Father!"

He nodded once more before shifting his attention to the other box.

He opened it rather brutally, revealing a long necklace composed of a large number of small diamonds.

He placed it on Madam, locking it masterfully behind her neck. She stopped praying upon feeling the cold stones wrapping themselves around her collarbone.

"Congratulations, Barbara! You’re a mother yet again."

He whispered loudly enough for all of us to hear. After finishing placing his gift, he kissed softly the start of her spine, making the woman shiver under the touch of his lips.

She tried to act grateful and happy, but it was clear for all of us-

She was miserable. That necklace was nothing but an expensive collar to remind her of her place and who owned her.

"Thank you, darling."

Her sweet voice broke the tension of the room, transforming this obvious act of public humiliation into a sweet gesture between a husband and a wife.

"Wear it tonight. With the black dress."

Cassian, although giving orders, softened his voice before kissing Madam’s hands. She nodded along and smiled gently.

The night passed on uneventfully.

In the morning, the mansion was already set up for that night’s party.

Everything was going smoothly.

Yet, the Prime Minister locked his office down. The noise of breaking furniture and ripping papers could be heard in the three-level villa.

The raging sounds continued for what felt like an eternity.

An hour before the event, Cassian walked out of the destroyed room with an unbothered expression, ordering a clean-up. Only the redness of his face and the shortage of his breath betrayed his fault for the condition of the space.

Nobody asked what happened. Nobody dared to.

When the guests started to arrive, he pulled me aside for a quick chat. Despite his etiquette guaranteed by his Alexander Amosu Vanquish Bespoke Suit, he looked like a sweaty mess.

Even his pheromones were slightly escaping his control, letting a faint fragrance of burned cacao and freshly typed newspaper with a hint of musk wander in the air.

Was he sick?

"After this is over, I need you to grab the most beautiful waiters of the event and bring them to this address for an after-party negotiation."

He snuck a piece of paper into the pocket of my suit.

"An after party?"

"Yes. You come too."

"Why an after-party?"

"It’s a shame to only give Luther to one. He is the most popular and wanted omega, despite him being toxic. Killian Akna, you know him?"

"Yeah."

He seemed like he had a hard time arranging his words into coherent sentences. From the heat of his body and the unstoppable sweating, only one thing could cause this-

A rut.

He is in a rut.

Is he gonna do business like this? He needs inhibitors and -

Well, if not Madam, at least an omega.

The fever and lust will fog his mind in a couple of hours.

It doesn’t make sense, an old alpha like him still having his ruts?

Either Madam is an irresistible woman or he has been spiked with pheromones.

"Killian has toxic omega pheromone blockers. That will make Luther accessible. Which makes him profitable for both me and his future husband."

"Are you-"

"Businesses are done with the brain, not the heart, son. You can eat the crumbs left before his husband takes him home."

I feel my stomach turn. I can feel the puke threatening to splash all over Cassian.

I swallow.

Having Luther given to another man was bad enough, but to more than one?

Cassian has lost his mind. He became greedy, neglectful of the consequences.

I have to stop this, but how?

I’m powerless.

"The after party starts at three AM. Don’t be late. Bring at least five waiters. Make sure you use a civilian car and park it far away from the apartment."

I nodded.

"Good boy. Enjoy the party. We have much to do after it."

He left in a hurry then.

I took a moment to calm myself down. I pinched my thigh so forcefully, it left a crease on my suit pants and a red bruise on my flesh.

I wasn’t dreaming. This nightmare is real.

There was only one thing left to do-

Kill the Prime Minister.