My Father Sold Me to a bunch of Crazy Alphas
Chapter 73: Do the curtains match the drapes? ( Tom’s POV )

Chapter 73: Do the curtains match the drapes? ( Tom’s POV )

I must admit that this is not what I had in mind when I imagined my reunion with Lu.

You would think that after planning for years, the universe would be kind enough to let me have my way.

I am a great guy. I volunteer, I donate and I am nice to everyone. So why?

Why when I was finally about to grasp Luther back into my arms after so much yearning, he ended up in Blondie’s arms?

Sobbing so hard, his body shook under the heaviness of his cries. Just who was this guy?

I did my research on every single person that ever interacted with Lu so how come there is a ghost materialized enough to rip him from me?

Redundant.

Someone get me a Scooby Snack, ’cuz I am about to Scooby Doo his pretty face and get my lover back!

But to do that, I need information to set my trap and catch this guy. Who was Damian? Who was Lior? What was exactly in Emiliano’s basement and why did Killian attack him?

"Ok, no problem. Let’s go!"

I need to gain access to his house to find out more. And since the death of Cassian makes them vulnerable and in need of a lawyer, this is my chance to sneak right in.

"What do you mean?", asked Emiliano.

Killian managed to purple his eye to swell enough to make him not legally able to drive. Since he was already wearing rather thick glasses, the building of his eye could be painful enough to prevent him from wearing them.

"You can’t drive with the eye like that."

"Puppy will drive."

"Assuming you are referring to Lu, dude, get a grip. Look at him! Do you really think he can drive?"

As if catching my drift, Luther’s sobs intensified. Emiliano, defeated by straight facts, hugged my lover even tighter and nodded his head.

"Thank you."

"No worries. We also need to go over our defense case. It might take a while."

"You can stay the night.", Luther said softly.

He slowly raised his head and looked at blondie with what I can only imagine to be puppy-dog eyes.

One thing about my Lu is that no matter what you throw his way, he finds a way to use it for his own benefit. Gotta love a Megamind babe!

"Darling, we already have the guest room occupied."

"You bid twenty billion dollars, but you live in a two-bedroom apartment?"

Blondie threw a dagger in my way with his gaze. The honey color of his eye flickered into a deep red just for a second.

The quickness of it made me think I saw wrong, that I was imagining things.

His gaze came back to Lu, tired and pleading-

Already aware of its own defeat.

"I’ll sleep with Damian and you and Tom can have a sleepover. Tom was my boyfriend in college. Aren’t you curious about me? Are you going to throw away such a golden goose source of information?"

Emiliano closed his eyes tightly and exhaled.

"You will help me with the research without throwing any more tantrums, ok? And I will let him come."

Luther pressed his lips shut. He nodded quietly.

I couldn’t see his face, but I could see the shivering of fingers at Emiliano’s condition.

It felt like he lost the negotiation, even though he had the emotional advantage over blondie.

"No funny business. I can add a beta to my collection without problems. I can even put it in the living room in case you need a more vivid reminder of the consequences of not being a loyal wife. Ok, pup?"

Emiliano kissed his forehead as Luther started sobbing yet again. This time, the crying seemed real.

We left the room, discarding behind us an extremely confused and disoriented Claus and a still-yelling Killian.

The drive to the apartment was quiet.

The lack of traffic made it quick and bearable.

Emiliano had Lu leaned into him like something collapsing gently, the weight of grief folded into quiet surrender. Lu’s shoulders trembled with the soft, uneven rhythm of held-in sobs, breath catching now and then in a fragile hiccup of sound.

His arms wrapped not to restrain, but to keep something from falling apart. One hand cradled the back of the back of my lover’s head, fingers threading loosely into his hair, while the other rested across his ribs, rising and falling with each broken breath.

Lu, ruined and still somehow beautiful in the dim light, didn’t resist. He didn’t lean in—but he didn’t pull away, either. His eyes were open, fixed on nothing, their glassy sadness flickering weakly. He allowed the touches. He breathed into them. Accepted them. Not out of hope. But just because there was no way out.

I hated that image enough to make sure the car trip ended as quickly as possible.

We reached a rather unremarkable apartment building.

The balconies were narrow, squared off with rusting railings and mismatched lawn chairs, some tilted, some folded, some simply forgotten. Faint flickers of television glow leaked out from behind slumped blinds and warped mosquito screens.

A single fluorescent bulb buzzed weakly above the front entrance, attracting a slow orbit of moths and the occasional stunned mosquito. The number plate beside the door had a missing screw and hung slightly askew, as if even it couldn’t be bothered to sit up straight.

The air was thick—wet, warm, and sticky. It clung to skin and windows alike, pressing down on everything with a soupy, invisible weight.

Not the type of place you expected a guy who casually bid twenty billion dollars into the air like it was nothing to live.

"We lived on the third floor."

"Thought you said you have a basement."

"I have a special passage there.", he scoffed.

Of course you have.

We walked the stairs, finally arriving at a dented wooden door.

Before Emiliano could turn the key in the lock, the door swung open with a loud bang.

It ranged across the hallway so loudly, the other doors of the neighbors trembled slightly.

The person responsible for all the commotion was a frail, pretty, blonde omega. I imagine this was Damian.

"Thank God you are home! I maxed out your card and I can’t buy any more food. You know I don’t eat leftovers!"

He stopped his ranting, finally seeing the bruised faces of both Emiliano and Luther.

"What happened to you too? And what’s with the stray behind you? Another omega for your freaky experiments?"

"Move."

Emiliano’s tone was sharp. Cut-throat.

Even I got a chill from the blondie.

Damian stepped aside, letting Emiliano and Luther enter. He blocked my way before I could step in.

"Nah. We don’t have room for another weedy pretty face. Shuu, shuu."

What an arrogant little brat.

I smiled politely and extended my hand for a handshake.

I’ve never seen such disgust on someone’s face for a mundane handshake.

The smooth line of his mouth curled sharply to one side, upper lip rising just enough to show a flash of teeth—not in a smile, but something more involuntary, like he’d just tasted something bitter. A faint crease appeared between his eyebrows, drawing the golden brows low, almost as if squinting at an offensive smell.

Nonetheless, I grabbed his hand and introduced myself:

"Tom. Luther’s lawyer."

"Of course you are."

"Just let him come in, Damian. You’re letting the humidity enter and the AC can’t handle it. Your pores will clog if you keep it up like that.", Luther’s voice echoed sorely and loudly.

Damian pulled me in with a sudden tug, almost making me trip. He banged the door closed and ran away somewhere out of my view.

Not because he was embarrassed. I truly think he went to a mirror to see if his pores were really clogged up.

"Don’t mind him, Tom. Come on in!"

And just like a poor sailor cast under the siren call of Lu, I entered Emiliano’s house.

The place was clean and comfortable—open layout, with the kitchen blending right into the living room. You could smell fresh laundry and coffee in the air, like someone had just finished tidying up after breakfast even if it was late evening. The sofa sat across from a big flat-screen TV, cushions slightly sunken, but nothing messy.

On the walls and shelves, there were framed photos of Emiliano smiling with his family—backyard shots, beach trips, holidays. Everything felt normal. Nice. Lived in, but kept up.

"You’re good with Photoshop I see. It’s almost believed that you have a family and didn’t crawl from the pits of hell. Had me fooled for a second there."

Emiliano waved at me dismissively, trying unsuccessfully to free his fridge from the weight of what must be about a ton of leftovers.

"My God, he wasn’t kidding. Did he actually max out your cards on food? And he didn’t even eat?"

"We might as well get a trip across the world tonight with this food. We have Indian, Chinese, Arab, Taiwanese, French, Italian, Mediterranean— "

"Ugh. Are you going to actually eat that? I want something light tonight. Maybe like a truffle pasta.", Damian intervened.

"I see some truffle pasta there."

"Ew. I don’t eat reheated food!"

"Then starve!"

Emiliano banged a container of food on the counter so hard, a few stray rice grains flew in the air.

Damian flinched, then pouted. He sat on the sofa with his back turned to us, expecting an apology.

"I’ll go take a shower before dinner."

"Are you still hungry, Lu? You did devour two big buckets of KFC."

"I also threw a chair with perfect aim at Killian’s head. That requires energy, you know?"

"You did what?"

Damian jumped off the sofa.

His jaw was clenched so tight you could see the muscle twitch. Shoulders squared, fists already curled, like his body had decided to swing before his mind caught up. Every breath he took sounded like restraint barely holding. One more word, one wrong move, and he was going to explode.

Twinks these days.

"Damian, should I get the syringe again?"

The blonde omega’s face was drained of any type of color. He just moved his body in a slumped motion to what I imagine was his room.

A click and lock echoed.

"Seems like we’ll split the bed in three tonight."

Said Luther unaffected, making his way to the opposite room.

That left me alone with Emiliano who was still trying to figure out how much leftovers there were still in the fridge. The counter was already full at this point.

What in the world are these dynamics? What is happening in this house?

"How long do you think you’ll stick around?" Emiliano asked mindlessly.

"I’ll walk out this second if Lu comes with.", I replied smiling." I see you already have another omega here."

"He’s not mine. He’s Killian’s"

"Killian’s?"

Wait. What?

I just stood there, staring, trying to replay the words in my head like I’d heard them wrong the first time. But they hadn’t changed. They just sat there, heavy and strange, refusing to make sense. My brain stalled, like it hit a wall and didn’t know whether to go around it or just stand there blinking. I opened my mouth to say something—ask for clarification, maybe—but nothing came out. I wasn’t even sure what I’d ask.

It didn’t fit.

It didn’t line up .

"Are you deaf? Or blind? Yeah, Killian’s. Killian Akna. Didn’t you see him preparing to bite when my pup said it threw a chair at him?"

So Killian has a boyfriend, but he is in love with Lu.

And his boyfriend is living with Emiliano, who is obsessed with Lu.

The math is not mathing.

"So, for as long as I’m my wife’s husband, you’ll just buzz around? Cuz I have a passion for squashing bugs that don’t belong."

"Squash me all you want, blondie."

"I am not blonde anymore. It was a wig."

"What can I say? Too late to change it."

Emiliano shook his head disappointed. In me. In the fridge. In the amount of leftovers.

"I will kill you, you know that?"

His tone was casual and steady.

Gotta love the confidence of a 5’10" man!

"I don’t think you will, buddy. Your wife likes me quite a lot, you see?"

I sat down on the sofa, leaving my head to hang back. I knew it was immature and dangerous to rage-bait blondie, but it was just so d-mn fun!

"Feelings change."

The barely softness dropped out of his voice like a switch had flipped. No shouting. No tremble. Just ice—sharp, measured, and cutting clean through. Each word landed with precision, stripped of emotion but heavy with warning. It wasn’t loud, but it carried. The kind of tone that made the room go still, because whatever got unleashed wasn’t rage—it was control sharpened into something colder.

"Maybe. But it takes time to change emotions. And all that time, I will be here. So get used to it!"

"We’ll see about that. You would be surprised by just how much Luther can forgive me for."

"Care to try now?"

"Why the rush, Tommy dear. Let’s get to know each other first!"

"Are you asking me on a date?"

"Sure. Grab a leftover and come after me. You wanted to see my basement, right?"

Huh?

How did he read me that fast?

I tried to look at him, but he was just holding two aluminum foils, trying to decide what to choose.

Without even granting me a glance, he said:

"Hurry up. Let’s see if my curtains match my drapes!"