The Alpha coughed hard, rolling onto his side, clutching his ribs like he just discovered what internal bleeding felt like.
For one perfect, satisfying second… Krishna thought that would be the end of it.
But of course… entitled men rarely stayed down after just one hit.
With a ragged, enraged snarl, he lunged.
Faster than she expected for someone who couldn't breathe thirty seconds ago.
Krishna twisted, sidestepping just enough to avoid his grab, but not enough to miss the way his hand snatched at the hem of her jacket, ripping the edge clean off as he yanked her back with brute force.
Her boots skidded against the floor for half a second before she planted them wide.
Wrong move, buddy.
With her free hand, she drove her elbow backwards—straight into his nose.
A wet crunch.
A curse.
And blood.
Glorious, dripping, splattering blood.
The Alpha howled, one hand flying up to his face.
Unfortunately…
That was also the cue for security.
"ENOUGH!" one of the bouncers roared, charging in like this was some WWE ring and Krishna was the final boss.
Two large bodies grabbed her by the arms, yanking her off balance before she could throw another punch.
Another pair rushed to help the Alpha, already sobbing, bleeding, and spitting curses about "lawsuits" and "daddy's lawyers."
Krishna didn't go quietly.
Her boots dug in.
Her heels scraped the floor.
One wild kick actually caught one bouncer in the shin, making him curse under his breath.
"Let me go, you overgrown mall cops!" she snapped, struggling like a cornered cat. "Or at least give me five more seconds with his face!"
"Ma'am, you need to calm down!" one of them hissed, already hauling her toward the back exit.
"Oh sure, now you care about 'calm,'" she spat. "Where was all this moral high ground five minutes ago while that Alpha was dry - humping an unwilling Omega on your couch?!"
No one answered.
Of course they didn't.
By the time they shoved her out into the alley behind the bar, red and blue lights were already flashing at the end of the block.
Someone had called the cops.
Awesome.
One officer approached, looking like he'd much rather be anywhere else on a Friday night.
"Krishna Debonair?" he sighed, flipping open a small notepad like this was routine at this point.
She smiled sweetly, like she hadn't just committed aggravated assault in front of twenty witnesses.
"Present."
The cuffs clicked cold and tight around her wrists.
Messy?
Of course.
But oh… she didn't regret a single second.
Two hours.
That's how long she sat there. Legs stretched out, back against the cold wall of the police station, staring at the flickering ceiling light like it personally offended her.
Her hands still carried faint red marks from the cuffs. Her knuckles? Sore, but totally worth it.
Krishna yawned—big, dramatic, unbothered.
Like she wasn't sitting in a holding cell… again.
The officers had already stopped staring. Some rookies whispered behind the desk, sneaking glances like she was some urban legend come to life.
"Is that really her?"
"Debonair's Beta daughter?"
"Again?!"
Krishna pretended not to notice.
Then… heavy double doors swung open.
And in walked Lorenzo Debonair.
Her eldest brother.
The family's golden Alpha.
The CEO-in-waiting.
Cold. Ruthless. Reputation sharp enough to cut stone.
He wore a dark tailored suit, immaculate as always. Not a single hair out of place. His entire aura screamed: I don't have time for this nonsense, and yet here I am… again… because of you.
The entire station went silent like someone had hit mute on the world.
Even the officers straightened in their chairs like cadets standing at attention.
Krishna, meanwhile?
She scratched the back of her neck, blinked up at him with the energy of someone waking from a nap, and muttered, "Oh… look what the universe coughed up."
Lorenzo didn't speak at first.
His gaze traveled from her cuff-marked wrists… to her dirty boots… to the little dried smear of blood near her knuckle from the Alpha at the bar.
Disgust flickered across his face.
"You're a walking disaster," he said coolly. "An unfiltered scandal generator. How do you manage to disgrace the family name in new, creative ways every month?"
Krishna tilted her head, offering him a slow, sarcastic smile.
"Talent," she said, with a fake finger-gun and wink.
Lorenzo's jaw clenched.
"Do you ever take anything seriously?"
"Sure," she said with a fake yawn. "Breakfast. Sleep. Good skincare routines. Definitely not lectures though."
Lorenzo didn't waste another word. He turned toward the desk.
"Sign her out," he snapped at the officer on duty. "Before she makes this place worse."
Krishna stood, stretched like she had all the time in the world, and popped her neck with a lazy roll.
As the cuffs came off, she gave her brother a low, dramatic bow.
"Always a pleasure, big bro. Thanks for the VIP rescue package."
Lorenzo didn't wait.
The second the paperwork was done and her cuffs were off, he walked straight out of the station without a word… like the air physically offended him just by sharing space with her.
No "Let's go."
No "I'm driving you home."
Not even a backward glance.
Krishna trailed after him, slow and lazy like a stray cat with no real destination.
By the time she stepped outside, his sleek black car was already pulling away from the curb, tires slicing through the wet pavement with that expensive kind of quiet aggression.
His driver didn't even bother looking at her.
Windows tinted.
Doors locked.
A clear message:
Don't get in. Don't even breathe near the car.
Krishna watched them speed off, grinning like she wasn't the least bit insulted.
"Charming as always, big bro," she muttered to herself, digging into her jacket pocket for her phone.
She stretched, letting out a satisfied sigh, like getting dragged to the police station and abandoned at the front steps was just another Friday night side quest.
Not like she expected anything different.
After all…
Lorenzo Debonair didn't even want her scent anywhere near him.
And honestly?
That suited her just fine.