A man with a tattoo on his neck was brutally beating two guys in front of him, leaving them completely bruised and their faces covered in blood due to the lethal blows they were receiving. Intense pheromones of dominance filled the air, paralyzing everyone present.

"Damon... Stop this. They could die," said a man behind him, resisting the overwhelming pressure of the aura emanating from Damon.

"They deserve it," Damon replied with a growl, as he continued to kick the two men lying inert on the ground.

Two of Damon's friends rushed to hold him back, trying to stop him before his unbridled rage caused an even greater tragedy.

"Remember, Damon, they are men from the rival group. This could complicate things further," said Aron, breathing heavily as Damon's pheromones exerted crushing pressure.

"I'm not afraid of them. Do they want to attack me? I'm more than ready to face them," Damon replied, freeing himself from his friends with a brusque movement.

"Damon, please," Brady interjected, sweating due to the intensity of the atmosphere created by the Alpha.

Finally, Damon stopped his blows. The three walked away, leaving the men lying on the sidewalk, unable to move.

Damon and his friends got on their Ducati motorcycles and headed to headquarters, an imposing mansion that was Damon's private property.

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Damon Ruiz, a pure and dominant Alpha of Spanish descent, was the leader of one of the most feared and respected motorcycle gangs in the area. His last name, Ruiz, carried a weight that no one could ignore.

Damon's father, Alonso Ruiz, had control over numerous key officials in almost the entire city of Madrid, Spain. However, this political power was also the root of Damon's problems.

The anger that burned in Damon had started in his youth, with the emotional absence of his father, who always prioritized power and politics over his family. But the breaking point occurred when his mother died as a result of one of the cruel political intrigues in which Alonso was involved.

Since then, Damon became an unwavering Alpha, feared not only for his physical strength, but for the intensity of his pheromones, capable of subduing even other Alphas.

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"Mom, when is Arvy coming back?" Eiran asked his mother, Izzy, as he helped her arrange a bouquet of flowers.

"I don't know, honey. He's too busy working," Izzy replied with a calm smile.

"When are you planning to return to Madrid?" Izzy asked, looking at her youngest son affectionately.

"The day after tomorrow. I have too many pending matters at the hospital," Eiran replied, brushing a strand of black hair that fell over his face.

"And when will you return to London again?" Izzy insisted.

"Mom, I still have many tasks in Madrid," Eiran replied patiently.

"Don't be as busy as your brother. If you are both always busy, when am I going to meet my grandchildren?" Izzy retorted, raising an eyebrow.

Eiran gave a slight laugh and hugged his mother from behind.

"Mom, I'm barely 23 years old. I think you should ask Arvy that first," he said, stroking her shoulders.

"You are the same. Are there no handsome Alphas in Madrid that interest you, that you are still single?" Izzy asked with a playful air.

Eiran laughed again and kissed his mother's cheek.

"In fact, there are too many. Maybe that's the problem," Eiran replied, with a teasing smile.

"If you are still without a partner at 28, I will find you a decent Alpha myself," Izzy threatened, although she couldn't help but smile.

Eiran laughed louder and hugged her tightly, finding comfort in his mother's warmth.

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Eiran Wilson, a pure and dominant Omega, was the second son of Aiden Wilson and Izzy Michael Wilson.

With an angelic face inherited from his mother, fair skin and black hair, Eiran attracted glances wherever he went. However, his calm and kind personality belied the strength of his presence as a dominant Omega.

Eiran worked as a doctor in a prestigious hospital in Madrid. Despite his young age, he had finished his medical specialization with honors, thanks to his intelligence and dedication.

Tomorrow he will return to Madrid after having taken a week off to attend a family event with the Romanov and Michael clans, where his presence as a pure Omega was always the center of attention.

A week had passed since Eiran returned to Madrid and resumed his work at the hospital. Today, he planned to leave early, but due to an emergency surgery for a traffic accident, he ended up leaving the hospital at 1 a.m., exhausted and sleepy.

Originally, he planned to take a taxi, but the streets were quite deserted, so he decided to drive his own car.

In the middle of the journey, an incident surprised him: someone shot a motorcyclist who was right next to his car.

BANG! BANG!

CRASH!

The motorcyclist fell immediately, and his motorcycle collided with Eiran's car. He braked sharply as the attacker's vehicle sped away.

Eiran quickly got out of his car and saw a man lying in the middle of the street, with his wrecked motorcycle next to the car. The pressure of alpha pheromones in the air made him feel a surge of tension, his Omega instinct dominating, alerting him to how dangerous this man could be.

He approached him, grateful that the man's helmet had not come off, which prevented an injury to his head. However, he noticed blood emanating from his arm.

Eiran removed the helmet and saw that the man was staring at him with an intensity that made him hold his breath.

"Are you okay?" Eiran asked, noticing the strong scent of alpha pheromones emanating from the man.

"Yes," Damon replied, trying to sit up, but his body wouldn't let him.

Eiran helped him sit up, his contact causing Damon's pheromones to clash against his own, creating a palpable tension between them.

"I'll take you to the hospital," Eiran said, seeing the wound on his arm.

"Who are you? You shouldn't help someone like me so easily," Damon replied, brushing Eiran's hands away with a brusque movement.

"I'm a doctor, and it doesn't matter who you are. You're hurt and what you need now is attention," Eiran replied, more firmly than he would have liked, but feeling the pressure of Damon's pheromones overwhelming him.

"It wasn't your fault. Go away. Don't get involved in this," Damon said, ignoring the pain in his arm as he tried to get up to mount his motorcycle.

"Your arm is injured and needs immediate attention," Eiran insisted, taking charge of the situation.

Damon, with his head clouded by pain, lifted his fallen motorcycle and began to mount it, but his legs were shaking, and his resistance was beginning to give way.

"I don't need your help, I can go to the hospital alone," Damon said, his voice weaker than he would like to admit.

"Don't be stubborn. You're too weak to drive. You'll fall as soon as you start moving," Eiran said, with a firmness that surprised Damon. He took the motorcycle keys without waiting for a response.

"Hey! Don't be insolent!" Damon shouted, but his tone lost strength due to the blood that continued to flow from his wound.

Damon had never been dominated by any person, much less by an omega, but something in Eiran's presence made him lose part of his control.

"If you don't want to go to the hospital, I'll treat your wound in my apartment. It's only two hundred meters from here," Eiran said, the tone of his voice soft, but authoritative.

"Are you crazy? I'm a gangster. Are you seriously inviting me to your apartment?" Damon replied, skeptical, but the pain in his arm made him vulnerable.

"To me, you're a person who needs help, even if you're a criminal," Eiran replied without hesitation.

The sound of engines in the distance made Damon alert. Without thinking, he pulled Eiran's hand and pushed him into his car, hurrying before the others arrived.

Damon sat behind the wheel while Eiran occupied the passenger seat, the air between them charged with tension by the alpha pheromones that Damon emitted.

"What's wrong? Who are they?" Eiran asked, noticing Damon's reaction.

"My friends. They mustn't see me hurt," Damon replied, starting the car with a roar that echoed in the empty streets.

"Let me drive," Eiran said, unable to avoid feeling a desire to take control.

"Can you shut up?" Damon shouted, his patience running out due to the pressure he felt.

Eiran, accustomed to dealing with strong and controlled people, could not bear to be shouted at, especially when he was only trying to help.

He remained silent, but took his medical kit from the back seat. He was willing to heal him, even if Damon was the most stubborn person he had ever met.

Luckily, Damon's wound was on his right arm. Without asking permission, Eiran cut his jacket and shirt, exposing the wound.

"What are you doing?" Damon protested, furious, but with a weakened voice.

"SHUT UP AND FOCUS ON DRIVING!" Eiran shouted at him, this time firmly, while disinfecting the wound.

Damon felt a surge of tension when he heard Eiran's voice, but for some reason, something inside him calmed down. The Omega had taken control, and Damon could do nothing but follow his orders, even though his heart was beating hard under the pressure of the pheromones that both released into the air.

Damon drove the car to a small clinic, refusing Eiran's help.

Damon got out of the car, his wound barely covered.

"Go away!" Damon said, turning and walking towards the entrance of the clinic, his tone laden with authority.

Eiran looked at him with annoyance from the passenger seat.

"Oh, my God... How arrogant is this guy!" Eiran muttered, still holding the scissors he had used to cut Damon's shirt.

He placed his first-aid kit in the back seat and slid into the driver's seat.

"I hope I never run into him again," Eiran said with annoyance as he stepped on the accelerator and drove away from the place.

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Damon's phone rang while the nurses at the clinic worked to stitch the wound on his arm. Unfazed, he answered the call.

"Damon, where are you? We found your motorcycle lying on the side of the road," said Adam, one of Damon's closest friends.

"I'm with my uncle. He intercepted me on the way and I came with him," Damon lied coolly.

"Are you okay? Your motorcycle is wrecked, it looks like it crashed into something," Adam insisted.

"I'm fine, it was nothing," Damon replied calmly, suppressing the pain in his voice.

"Okay, we'll take the motorcycle to the workshop. Will you be back tonight?" Adam asked.

"No. Take care of the mansion until I return," Damon ordered before hanging up.

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A week had passed, and Damon's wound was almost completely closed, a sign of the accelerated recovery typical of alphas. During that time, he had resumed his usual life: intermittently managing the company he had inherited from his grandfather and leading his trusted circle from his mansion.

His cold personality, typical of a dominant alpha, made him feared by both his employees and his own relatives. His uncles, his mother's younger brothers, were constantly trying to strip him of his position as leader of the company, but Damon would not give them the pleasure of seeing him lose control... at least not in his presence.

Today, a shareholders' meeting was being held, and his attendance was mandatory. The room was charged with tension, especially because Damon, disinterested, put on his headphones and made it clear that he did not intend to pay attention to the accusations of incompetence that his uncles were throwing at him.

The atmosphere was charged, and the pheromones of the alphas present clashed in the air. However, Damon kept his under control, appearing apathetic while the others tried to intimidate him.

"Look at how he behaves. He's a complete disaster as a leader," commented Dawson, one of his uncles, letting his own pheromones spread in the room.

Damon barely reacted, ignoring the weight of the pheromones and keeping his headphones in place.

"I propose a vote among the shareholders to decide if you are fit to lead this company," Dawson said, confident in the support of other board members.

"Mr. Ruiz is the largest shareholder. None of you have the power to remove him," intervened Tommy, a beta and loyal assistant of Damon, in an attempt to calm the situation.

Dawson let out a mocking laugh. "An alpha as useless as him should not be in this company. If he stays here, he will bring the company to ruin."

Delon, Dawson's son, newly arrived at the company after completing his master's degree abroad, stepped forward towards Damon, irritated by the lack of respect he was showing. In a reckless act, he took off his headphones without warning.

Damon looked up, and his eyes flashed with fury. The alpha pheromones he had been suppressing exploded in the room, saturating the air with an overwhelming weight that made several of those present tense and look down.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Damon growled before getting up.

Before Delon could respond, Damon grabbed him by the arm and slammed him against the table in front of them with a dull thud.

CRASH!

"DAMON!" Dawson shouted, running towards his son.

Blood began to gush from Delon's head, which had hit the edge of a laptop.

"You're just a pup here, understand? You and your father are nothing. I can crush you whenever I want," Damon said, his deep voice imbued with pheromones that kept everyone still, before leaving the room without looking back.

....