Breaking the Arrogant Alphas

It started subtle.

At first, Krishna barely noticed.

A familiar shadow showing up at her favorite coffee shop… three days in a row.

That glossy black car parked too long outside her apartment building late at night.

The sudden uptick in expensive cologne lingering near places she'd just left.

By the time she caught him trailing her down the grocery aisle, standing two shelves over, pretending to browse cereal boxes while very obviously scenting the air like some rabid bloodhound, Krishna knew.

Aaron Triton.

Her first leashed dog.

Fully broken…

Utterly obsessed…

And pathetically predictable.

She paused near the cold drinks section, giving him just enough time to step closer.

His gaze? Starved.

Like he hadn't slept.

Like the craving for her was eating him alive from the inside out.

His pupils blown wide.

His throat bobbing like he was fighting the urge to call her name.

Krishna grabbed a bottle of water, cracked it open… took a slow sip… then glanced at him from over her shoulder.

"You following me, Aaron?" she asked, voice light, amused… like she was scolding a puppy caught chewing on her shoes.

Aaron froze.

Then, like instinct overruled shame, he stepped closer, too close.

Barely enough space between their bodies.

"You smell like trouble," he breathed out, low and wrecked.

His voice gravelly, heat-strained, like he hadn't fully recovered since the penthouse night.

Krishna laughed under her breath.

"Funny… coming from you."

Aaron's hand twitched at his side. Like he wanted to touch her but knew better now.

"Oh? Trying to be good?" she teased, popping the cap back on her water, brushing past him on her way to checkout.

She made sure to lean close just long enough for her scent to ghost along his jaw.

Aaron sucked in a sharp breath like it physically hit him.

"Good boy," Krishna said, smirking as she walked off, leaving him standing there, wrecked, shaking, and painfully, hopelessly addicted.

One dog down.

Many more to come.

And Aaron?

Still sniffing after her like the pathetic, lovesick mutt she'd turned him into.

By the end of week one, Krishna had officially downgraded Aaron Triton to something beneath nuisance.

He was now… her errand dog.

Her very own Alpha-turned-gofer.

A political heir.

The Triton family's precious golden boy.

Once feared, respected, and… now reduced to tailing after her like some lovesick street mutt.

Every morning?

Without fail.

Coffee outside her door.

Always right.

Always on time.

Always with a little note like:

"For my goddess. Have a good day."

Every afternoon?

Random packages arrived.

Perfumes she joked about once.

Shoes she casually mentioned needing.

A new leather jacket she never asked for but wore anyway, just to see his eyes darken with pleased hunger when she did.

By night?

He lurked nearby.

Her shadow at her gym entrance.

Her silent audience at the cafe two blocks from her place.

The poor idiot even started learning her grocery schedule just so he could carry her bags home.

And worst of all?

He sniffed.

Like a dog too far gone.

Like scent alone was the only thing keeping him sane.

Once, after ignoring him for three straight days, she finally texted one word:

"Groceries."

An hour later?

There he was.

Arms full of shopping bags.

Slight sweat at his temples like he'd run half the city for her.

Krishna answered the door wearing a loose tank top, boy shorts, and absolutely no desire to entertain him longer than needed.

She didn't even invite him in.

Instead?

She stepped forward, lifted one leg…

Rested her bare foot against his thigh…

Pressing it in between them, just enough to tease, get him worked up...

And gave him a lazy shove back.

"Good boy," she said with a yawn.

His entire body locked up.

Breath hitched.

Like that single contact had triggered every filthy chemical imbalance running through his bloodstream.

And then… she shut the door.

Another time, she let him kneel near the couch while she scrolled on her phone.

Offered him nothing but the occasional brush of her toes against his shoulder…

Or a single absentminded stroke of her hand across his hair when she felt generous.

A pat.

A scratch under the chin.

A flick to his forehead when he got too needy.

And yet?

He stayed.

Always.

Like a damn retriever that refused to leave the porch.

And Krishna…?

Honestly?

She was too tired to chase him off anymore.

If the dog wanted to play guard, carry her bags, and burn his family fortune spoiling her…

Let him.

Free pocket money.

Free muscle.

Free entertainment.

And all it cost her?

The occasional lazy pat…

Once in a while tease over here and there.....

And letting him breathe her scent a little longer than necessary.

Tolerable.

For now.

That is.