Wanted By The Three Alphas

Wanted By The Three Alphas

Pearl Baleta · Ongoing · 35.1k Words

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Introduction

"Shit, the fucking blonde has a dirty secret that no one knows about. In that case, she will be trapped in our webs, in between exposing her or making her dance to our tune." He grins with mischief.

"Fucking fun, Sebastian." Weaver licks off the chocolate from his finger and jumps on his feet like a cat who's ready to play.

"What do we plan to do with her, actually?" Harper, who's been typing away on his phone, asks a question like he's been absent.

"Play with her. Punish her. Torment her. The sky is the limit." Sebastian smiles cruelly.

.....

The three powerful Alphas are the most handsome and popular in school; even though they were newly transferred students, it didn't take them up to three days to earn the entire school's attention.

They had the most unrealistic beauty; it's difficult to ignore them, but when a girl ignored them for the first time in their history of existence, it became chaotic like the blast eruption of a volcano.

They were so determined to clip her wings and make her crumble before them, leading to their discovering a secret about her that was spilled by her best friend.

Chapter 1

DIAMOND POV

Worse nightmare

In the previous years, I would advise my best friend whenever she got a breakup from her ex, “Do everything you can not to ever become a victim of depression. Do not ever fall into depression, because you will never be able to come out of it. It’s that dangerous, Jane.”

I think I’m in danger now. And at this point in my life, I need that advice more than ever.

Apparently, I am more than a victim because I’m dead. I’m only alive on the outside, but within me, I’m dead. I can barely even take in oxygen in between my rib cages.

Every part that made Diamond once alive—once cheerful, once a very bright young girl—died when my dad died a month ago.

Those bright smiles that used to emanate from my icy blue eyes have been dull since my dad died in a car accident.

The hands I use to play guitar have been lifeless for over a month. I haven’t played my favorite songs on the guitar in a while, but lately I’ve been using it to mourn him, and every string I touch cuts my heart like a blade.

Every word I mumble chokes me up, like I’m dying.

He was my life, my source of happiness; he was the one who made people see a star in me; he was the reason people sang praises to my name whenever I was done playing the guitar on the stage.

He was the only man in this fucking cold world who made me believe in myself when I was left without a mom. He was my mom and my dad, and now he’s left me.

He promised he would always be by my side until I got myself a boyfriend and got married. He will always be there.

I will no longer see those contagious smiles of his and the love he has for me in those striking green eyes of his. Dad didn’t need to say the I love you word because I could see everything in his eyes. It was crystal clear.

He will no longer call me his little angle; he will no longer hold my hand when I walk to the stage.

He promised and failed. He couldn’t fight to be alive for me; he couldn't survive the accident. The cops tried to investigate the cause of the accident, and they are all saying some weird things, like an animal got in his way and he accidentally hit the car on a tree.

I don't get what animal it is because the backview of the animal was caught on a CCTV camera. They still can't identify what animal it is; it looks more like a bear, but it's not because it has a very long claw, as seen in the photo. It's not that clear, so we can't tell yet. Dad is a businessman who travels around the world for business; if he isn't joining me on stage, then he's away from town.

He was doing what he always does so he can take good care of us when some animal got in the way of his vehicle and had it crash into a tree.

He was my only motivator; he was the reason I dared to dream so big. Now my reason is gone.

I’m alone in my cold, dark room. It has been cold and dark because I haven’t opened the window for weeks.

I haven’t turned on the heater for weeks either. I just prefer the cold and the darkness because I’m not apparently living anymore.

I force myself to eat, to go to class, and to even fall asleep. I have been scared to close these eyes because, when I do, I see dad. He tells me he loves me, and I can’t cope with hearing those words when, in reality, he’s gone.

He should be here with me in the room, but he’s gone. Dad would have opened the window for sunlight; he would have sang me a lullaby to make me sleep.

Yes, my dad was a talented singer, just as I’m talented with the guitar. Dad saw I had a great gift with the guitar and made me popular with all his might.

It was his effort that got me those million fans, and I got invitations to play guitar on various occasions. But lately, I have been declining all the invitations.

They fucking knew I lost my only person, and they had the audacity to give me an invitation to play. Jane even talked me into going to the stage, but fuck her. I wish she knew how I felt.

I wish someone else could feel the pain that is killing me inside my chest.

I’ve ignored every fucking thing and everyone. I scream to everyone to leave me alone because all I want to be is this girl who will be waiting for her dad in the dark room, expecting him to wake up and tell her it’s a prank.

None of their consolation can bring me back to the shiny diamond I used to be. I just want my dad back. Is that too much to ask?

The back of my throat hurts like hell. I wish there was something hotter than hell; maybe that is what I’m feeling right now in my rough throat.

I want to scream.

I want to cry out my lungs.

I want to vomit. do all sorts of things, but my body doesn’t let any of that out anymore. I’ve cried so much that there aren’t any tears left anymore.

It’s been a week since I yelled at Jane to leave me alone, and I need some fucking space, even though it’s not her fault.

I just want to be alone. I just don’t want to talk to anyone. That’s what I do when I go to school: I walk myself to class; heaven knows, I pay no attention to the teacher, and once it’s over, I carry my backpack and walk alone back home without looking at or talking to anyone.

I don’t even fucking care about the so-called new boys who everyone has been worshipping as if they are some gods.

There is no doubt that they are cute, but that is so stupid of them, and they can never be me. Especially now that I’ve become the coldest person ever in this world.

The sound of my phone pierced the cold air in the room. I’m reluctant to pick up any calls, just the way I’ve been doing since I got the bad news about my dad.

The only bright light in my room is the light from my phone screen. My eyes are heavy and blurry. I can barely look at the screen; if I do, it will ache more, but what’s more than the ache I feel in my heart?

I motion the phone to my reach, and it’s the person I least expected now. Jane

“Hey, are you still crying? I’m sorry I haven’t called all the while; I didn’t want to piss you off, you know?” I hate that she is acting like she truly cares about me lately. Everyone has been giving me fake sympathy, and it stinks.

It's the exact reason I have stayed away from everyone. I nearly clench my phone against the heels of my palm, but I release my grip on it.

“Speak up; tell me why you’ve called; I’m sure you have a reason.” My voice is unbearably cracking; I generate empathy for my voice whenever I speak.

“Diamond, c’mon, you can’t be speaking like that with me. I’m your…”

I know where she is heading, and I fucking cut the flow as soon as possible.

“Are you speaking or not?” I can’t resist the urge not to roll my eyes, even though she can’t witness the irritation on my face.

“Okay, fine.” She drops the act as she shrugs.

“Did you come across one of the new transfer students today? I don’t know what’s going on, but he’s desperately looking for you.”

I take the phone away from my ear as my lips part. Why the heck will he be looking for me? I don’t need to know him before I can tell he’s the tallest guy of his three friends, with the sweet-sin demeanor of the person I walked past in the hallway. I can’t describe how he looks because I haven’t really looked at him.

Do I look like I care about their existence? Do I look like someone who is even paying attention to them?

“And if you are able to tell him, tell him to go fuck himself.” I don’t wait for her to complete her sentence before I end the call.

What is he thinking? I don’t even know his fucking name, and that’s because I don’t give a damn about him.

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