The club pulsed with low, thrumming energy as I leaned back against the plush booth, the ice in my whiskey glass clinking softly. The weight of Cale's gaze settled on me, sharp and knowing.
"Don't get too drunk," I muttered, swirling the amber liquid lazily. "Imagine the biggest club owner in the city getting carried out by his friend. That'd be a fucking sight."
Cale smirked, stretching out like he had all the time in the world. "Oh, please. If anyone's getting carried out, it'll be you. I'd look too good doing it."
"Yeah?" I arched a brow. "Headlines would eat that shit up-'Evren's CEO carried out drunk by his friend, Cale Lancaster.'"
Cale chuckled, raising his glass. "Free publicity."
I shook my head, amusement flickering through the tension still lingering from earlier. Cale always had a way of pulling me out of it, dragging me back into his world of sharp smiles and reckless confidence.
"Anyway," he said, his tone shifting, "about the deal..."
The humor drained from my face. "It's not happening."
Cale sighed, swirling his drink. "The alpha couldn't handle working under an omega?"
"Exactly."
"Coward." His lip curled. "What's the backup plan?"
"Westbridge." I tapped my fingers against the glass. "More stable. Less risk. The investors are already leaning toward us."
"And if they pull back?"
"They won't. We've positioned Evren as the smarter option. They'll follow the numbers."
"Assuming they're not too distracted by the fact that two omegas are running the company," Cale said flatly.
"They'll get over it when they see the profits."
Cale's smirk sharpened. "Cold, calculated, and ruthless. That's why you're the mastermind."
"And yet, you're the one wearing the crown," I countered.
"Paper crown," he corrected. "You're the one running the empire."
"From the shadows."
"Exactly where you like to be."
I didn't respond. He wasn't wrong. Control was best wielded from the background, where no one could see the strings I was pulling.
"Westbridge it is, then," Cale said, lifting his glass.
"Westbridge." I tapped mine against his, letting the whiskey burn down my throat.
The club throbbed around us, bass vibrating through the walls, voices blending into the music. Across the room, a pair of alphas still had their eyes on us. I ignored them.
"I'll be back," I muttered, pushing up from the booth.
Cale stretched, watching me lazily. "Try not to pass out in there."
"I'm not that weak," I shot back, even though the whiskey was already warming my veins.
Damn it. I needed to pace myself.
I navigated through the crowd, heading for the restroom. The dim lighting and cool tiles were a welcome relief from the thick, charged air of the club. I stepped up to the sink, splashing cold water on my face, the sharp chill helping clear the haze of alcohol.
Then I heard them.
Two voices. Low. Rough. Arrogant.
The scent hit me next.
Alphas.
I stiffened, my grip tightening on the edge of the sink. Their pheromones pressed down like an invisible weight-thick with amusement, aggression.
The door creaked open, and two of them stepped inside. Tall, broad, radiating that sharp dominance that came so naturally to their kind.
Their eyes found me immediately.
"Well, well," one of them drawled, his mouth twisting into a lazy grin. "What's an omega doing here alone?"
"Didn't think omegas could handle a place like this," the other added, eyes dark and assessing.
I forced my expression into a cold mask. Straightened. Kept my stance sharp.
"Not interested," I muttered, stepping toward the door.
The first alpha moved, blocking my path.
"Where's the rush?" His voice dipped lower. "We're just being friendly."
"Get the fuck out of my way," I said flatly.
"No need to be rude," the second one mused, his gaze flicking over me like he was assessing a meal.
I took another step forward-then a hand closed around my wrist.
My eyes flashed dangerously.
"Let. Go." My voice was low, cutting. My pulse pounded at my temples, but my stance remained steady. I flexed my fingers, resisting the urge to dig my nails into my palm.
The alpha's grip tightened. "Or what?"
I was already preparing to make him regret it-when I felt it.
Another scent.
Another fucking alpha.
The air grew heavy, charged, like the split-second before a thunderstorm. The scent that hit me was different-controlled, deliberate. A pause. A breath. Then, a voice-low and composed. Cold. Sharp.
The first two alphas stiffened, instincts kicking in, warning them.
I turned my head toward the door.
And there he was.
Tall. Dark. Dangerous.
His gaze cut through the room, ice-cold and direct. His scent was overwhelming-stronger than theirs. More controlled.
The first two alphas went rigid. They could feel it. They were outmatched.
"Is there a problem?" the new alpha asked, his voice like steel wrapped in velvet.
The one gripping my wrist let go immediately, stepping back. "No problem."
"Good." The new alpha's gaze slid to me, holding my eyes for a long moment, unreadable.
I didn't move. My pulse was still hammering beneath my skin.
"Leave," the alpha ordered, his voice calm but absolute.
The two hesitated, then slipped out without another word.
I exhaled slowly, rolling my shoulders back. My wrist throbbed faintly where the alpha had grabbed me.
The new alpha was still watching me, sharp and assessing-but there was no threat in his gaze.
"You okay?" he asked.
I straightened. "I didn't need your fucking help."
"Didn't look that way," he murmured, his lips tilting slightly at the corner.
"I could've handled it."
"Sure." His eyes glinted. "You're welcome, by the way."
I scowled. "I didn't thank you."
"Exactly."
I pushed past him, ignoring the way his gaze followed me.
"Try to stay out of trouble," he said lazily as I walked away.
I ignored him.
Cale was lounging in the booth when I returned, one eyebrow raised.
Cale's gaze flicked to me, sharp as ever. He didn't ask, but I could see it-the quiet assessment, the unspoken question.
"Everything okay?"
"Yeah," I muttered, brushing past him and sinking into the seat.
Cale's eyes flicked toward the crowd. "What happened?"
"Nothing."
I could tell Cale knew something was up.
I didn't stay long after that. Cale didn't ask questions-he didn't need to. His sharp gaze skimmed over me, reading between the lines like he always did. He knew something had happened. He also knew I wouldn't talk about it.
I gave him a nod. He returned it.
That was enough.
The club's neon glow faded behind me as I stepped into the night. The cold air bit at my skin, but it didn't do a damn thing to cool the fire raging beneath it. My breath came out sharp, controlled. My fingers flexed at my sides as I made my way to my car, slipping into the driver's seat and slamming the door shut.
Silence.
My grip tightened around the steering wheel, the leather digging into my palms. My breath came too fast, too uneven. I forced myself to inhale, to exhale-steady. Controlled.
Fuck.
The phantom burn of that alpha's grip on my wrist lingered, searing into my skin like a brand. I could still feel the weight of his stare, the cocky smirk, the assumption.
Because that's all it ever was, wasn't it? Assumption.
That I was weaker. That I was lesser. That I belonged to them in some unspoken, unwritten way. That touching me-taking from me-was just the natural order of things.
I swallowed against the bile rising in my throat, my stomach twisting in that sickening, familiar way.
It wasn't even about the touch. It was the entitlement. The way they looked at me like I was something to be handled-to be tamed.
Fucking bastards.
Alphas were all the same. Arrogant, greedy, self-serving pricks who couldn't see past their own fucking egos. They thought they deserved everything. That omegas were meant for them. That we should be grateful for their attention-grateful when they leered, when they touched, when they took.
I let out a low, humorless laugh.
I wasn't grateful. I was fucking disgusted.
No matter what I built. No matter how high I climbed. No matter that I was the one pulling the strings behind Evren, that I was the one reshaping the business world to fit my vision.
At the end of the day, I was still an omega.
And to them? That meant I was nothing.
My hands curled into fists. My vision blurred at the edges, white-hot fury crackling beneath my skin.
They wanted me to be weak. They expected it.
I'd burn this whole fucking world to the ground before I gave them what they wanted.
I took a sharp breath, forcing my grip to loosen. Forced my pulse to slow. Forced the rage to settle.
It didn't matter.
I'd survived worse.
I started the car, the low growl of the engine cutting through the silence. The streets blurred past me in streaks of neon and shadow, my mind still turning over every detail.
And then there was him.
The unknown alpha.
I had been sharp with him-I knew that. But I didn't regret it. I didn't need a fucking hero.
He was one of them. He had to be.
Because alphas only stepped in when they wanted something. Always playing savior, waiting for the moment they could collect.
But him...
Something about him wasn't right.
He hadn't touched me. Hadn't forced his presence on me. He had just... stood there. Commanding, controlled. Waiting.
I hated that. I hated that calm. That quiet power. The way his eyes didn't demand-didn't expect.
It made me uneasy.
Because alphas don't help for nothing.
And if he was different-if he really was-
That was even more dangerous.