Alpha Andrew's Human Mate

MARTHA:

When I closed from my shift as a waitress at Silver's Restaurant, a magnificent two-story building, I grabbed my bag and rushed out and went to the roadside.

The rain started falling heavily as I flagged a taxi and hopped into the back seat. I gave the driver my father's home address, dreading going home to my stepmother, Sandra, and my stepsister, Elena.

When the taxi arrived, it pulled to a stop at the front of my father's magnificent white mansion. I settled my fare, dashed out, and rushed through the gate since the gatekeeper was absent.

It was Friday evening. I reached the front door and rang the doorbell after seeing the door was locked from within.

My stepmother, Sandra, pulled the door open.

Sandra wore a dazzling blue nightdress and black slippers. She frowned upon seeing me return home early.

Thunder struck as soon as I shut the door behind me. I was drenched from the heavy downpour.

It was 8 p.m. on the clock, and I greeted her, "Good evening, Mom."

"Martha, why are you home so early?" Sandra asked, stepping away from me.

Looking at her frowning face, I asked, "What sort of question is that? This is my father's house, and I can return home whenever I like."

"Oh, sure," Sandra replied with a smirk and moved back to sit on the black couch. I knew she disliked me and was only pretending to marry my father. After she did, she treated me poorly until he died two years ago.

I had to live with Sandra because my father's will stated that he gave the whole house to me, while Sandra and her daughter, Elena, stole the company.

Ignoring my stepmother, I rushed upstairs to my room to change out of my wet clothes. But as I neared the door, intense groaning and moaning froze me in place.

"Ah, Mark! Fụck me!" I heard Elena's voice moaning as the man rode her to ecstasy.

My fist clenched at how Elena was moaning like a lunatic. Couldn't she take her boyfriend to a hotel? Why bring him here, to our father's house? Couldn't she have a little respect for our late father?

I wanted to ignore Elena, as I was four years older than her. I was twenty-four, and she was twenty.

However, I heard Elena's moan again, "Fụck me harder, Mark!"

I froze.

Who was Mark? Was he my fiancé, Mark Elliott?

I wanted to ignore them, thinking there were many Marks, so there was no fụcking way Mark Elliott would be the man with my shameless sister. But then I heard Elena's comment: "Mark, do you enjoy having sex with Martha like you do with me?"

"Fụck it, Elena. Martha has a dry pụssy, and I don't enjoy anything with her. She's too skinny and lacks the plump boobs and soft ass like you."

"What?" My fist clenched as I spun around to face Elena's room door, and I heard her continue.

"Awn. I'm glad we're different. How about your engagement to Martha? Aren't you going to call it off? You cannot marry her over me," Elena purred as Mark drove her. The sounds of his moans echoed in the corridor alongside the squelching sounds of her pụssy.

"Don't worry. I'm only getting married to Martha to take over your father's company. Don't forget that your mother said your father left everything in Martha's name, if not that she deceived Martha into believing he left only the house for her."

"What?" I gasped, blood draining from my face as I heard their discussion.

I couldn't pull the door open to face them. Elena's door was slightly ajar, and I spun around to leave the house, only to see my stepmother standing in the corridor with a large pestle in her hands.

"Martha, your time is up. You cannot take everything away from my daughter and me." Sandra raised the pestle to smash it on me, but I dodged her attack and pushed her to the ground.

"Ahhh!" Sandra gasped as she landed on her buttọcks.

After hearing that Sandra had changed my father's will to suit her preference, I jumped on her and smacked her multiple times across the face.

"Martha, how dare you?" Sandra shrieked, and Elena's room door flung open.

Elena and Mark shamelessly darted out of her room, nàked, and looked stunned to see Sandra on the ground after I had smacked her ten times for changing my father's will.

Who knows if Sandra had a hand in my father's mysterious death two years ago?

"Martha, how dare you lay your filthy hands on my mother?" Elena growled at me, but I glared at her in disgust.

"You shameless slut. Riding my ex-fiancé, and you think you'll be better than me or get my inheritance? Only in your dreams." I spun around and left the house, knowing I couldn't stay there with them.

Before I left the corridor, Mark called out, "Martha, you cannot leave this city. Know that our wedding has already been scheduled, and whether you like it or not, you must marry me!"

"Only in your dreams. I will never marry an ásshole and cheap dog like you!" I cursed at Mark before I left the corridor.

Tears flooded down my cheeks as I made my way outside of the duplex my father owned. The house used to be peaceful until my dad got married to that evil woman.

Clenching my fists, I hurried out, leaving everything behind. I would be back for them. So, I made my way to the road to get a cab.

The rain poured down heavily on me as I found a taxi.

"To Dennis Hotel," I said, as it was getting late. I had nowhere to go. My relatives lost interest in me after my mother's death. They blamed me for her death, preferring I should have died in her place instead of her having me as her baby. She died during labour.

Wiping the sobs from my cheeks, I looked out the window. The money I had could barely sustain me.

When the taxi arrived at the hotel, I got out, paid the driver, and made my way inside.

Dennis Hotel was a popular brothel in town. I wanted to spend the night there to cheat on Mark and forget those mean words he said about me.

When I entered the hotel lobby, the two receptionists peered at me and frowned.

"Hey, miss. What are you doing here all soaked up?" One of them asked me, and I drew a deep breath.

"I want a night with any available man. How much will I be paid?"

"Haha!" The two receptionists laughed at my broken state.

"You're too skinny to attract any client. So go out and look for another hotel or brothel to satisfy your fantasy," she dismissed me, but I was determined to show them I wasn't one to give up easily.

If I didn't get the money to get my stepmother arrested, then I would be the one at a loss.

"I'm serious, and I'm not leaving this brothel. Please," I said, stripping off my wet blue dress that I had worn to work that morning.

"Hey! What are you doing?" The receptionist growled at me as she walked out from behind her desk.

"Let her go!" A deep voice startled me, and I turned to see who it was.

It was a group of five men in black ensembles who walked into the hotel lobby. The one who spoke had golden-coloured eyes that sent chills down my spine.

I hadn't seen any human with such eye colour before.

"Welcome, sir. We are just trying to keep our hotel conducive. What do you want?" The female receptionist in a white top and short black skirt, who had wanted to chase me out, asked the formidable man who walked in to meet us.