"You useless piece of shit! Can you ever do anything right?"
My boss's voice hit me like a slap across the face.
Before I could even look up, the stack of papers I spent all night typing flew through the air and landed on my desk, scattering across the floor.
I froze in my chair. My hands were still on the keyboard. My whole body stiff.
What did I do wrong this time? I followed every instruction and did exactly what he had asked.
He walked toward me with heavy, sharp steps his brows drew together like he was going to chew me up.
He still looked good though. Something less than one percent of world population can pull off .
My boss. The man I used to secretly dream about. The same man that I did apply to work in this company for was now standing in front of me like I had ruined his life.
His dark suit fit like it was made just for him.
He leaned down so close I could smell his clean and expensive cologne.
"Do you even use your brain?" he said, his voice low and full of rage then he wrinkled his nose in disgust. "It's just a report. Just words and few numbers But no. You always find a way to fuck it up."
My throat tightened. I blinked fast, but my eyes were already wet.
"I'm sorry." I bent down to pick up the papers. My knees hit the cold floor while my hands trembled in fear.
Nikolai looked at his watch. "Meeting starts in ten. Reprint everything. Fix the punctuation, you loser, or you have yourself to blame."
He turned and walked away without another glance.
I crouched there for a moment, still holding the ruined paper, my chest tight and my eyes burning—but I didn't cry.
All this embarrassment just for punctuation errors?
Behind me, I heard snickers from my coworkers. They had always waited for this moment every single day of the week.
"She's crying again. How long does she need to get it up in her empty skull that Nikolai is a perfectionist?" Karen from HR whispered, not even trying to hide it.
"Maybe she likes being yelled at," Mateo added.
"Suites her best. She should just quit already. A loser doesn't learn even after four years."
I kept my head down. My face burned. I picked up the last paper and stood up slowly, their laughter echoing in my ears.
I hated every single one of them!
Rain fell lightly by the time I got home. Not a storm—just that annoying kind of rain that sticks to your clothes and never fully gets you wet.
I pushed open the door to my small apartment. Everything was quiet except for the steady drip from the kitchen sink and the soft hum of my old fridge.
I dropped my bag by the door, pulled off my wet shoes, and sat cross-legged on my mattress.
I couldn't even afford a bedframe. My whole life savings had been going down to my stupid brother who took out a loan in my name.
I opened my laptop. The screen lit up my face in the dark room. I stared at the blinking cursor.
Then I typed. It was my only way of getting rid of all the frustrations I've been caused at work.
I wrote about a world falling apart. An apocalypse. I made everyone from work suffer. Every single one of them that had made my life miserable was in there.
And Nikolai?
He became a powerful Alpha. Cold, dangerous, and obsessed—with me.
The last Omega. The only woman he couldn't control. A comfortably living young woman. The only one he wanted. And the most beautiful woman Earth has ever made.
I gave him a taste of his own cruelty. Then I made him love me. Need me. And can't live without me. And tonight I think I've been stupid enough to ever think we could ever be a thing.
So I let the world end. I let us all die. We were all busy ignoring the warnings of the apocalypse, and it killed us all.
It was stupid. Petty. Childish. But it made me feel better.
I stopped typing. My hands were begining to shake.
"If I can't fight them in real life," I whispered, "at least I can kill them in my book."
I slammed the laptop shut. The sound echoed in the quiet room.
I leaned back against the wall, breathing hard and finally calming my nerves. I took out my glasses and stretched my body lazily.
"I need help," I muttered.
Now that I've ended my book, I felt empty and without purpose.
"Tch! If only this world would end as well." I said with a heavy heart. I couldn't even cried I just laid there, empty and hollow, wishing I atleast had the perfect life I gave myself in my book. And slowly, I drifted to sleep.
I woke up the next morning and the sun was surprisingly casting a golden hue on my face. Strange!
It was something I've forever wished for, but my tiny cramped apartment never gave me that privilege.
It should be past 8:00 a.m. Why hasn't my alarm rung yet? I yawned lazily and touched the end of the bed, and my hands landed on a bedside table.
What the hell?
I sat up immediately and opened my eyes wide—only to freeze.
This… wasn't my room.
The mattress was gone. So were the cracks in the walls, the dripping sink, and the buzzing sound from the old fridge that annoyingly greeted me every morning.
Instead, I was lying on a soft, white bed—king-sized, with silky sheets that felt like they cost more than my entire paycheck. A silver chandelier hung above me. Thick velvet curtains covered the windows. The room smelled like vanilla—my favorite scent.
I blinked hard.
Maybe I was dreaming.
I threw the covers off and touched the floor. A soft, warm carpet hit my leg. This must be some joke.
There was a full-length mirror across from the bed. I stood slowly, wobbling a little, then walked toward it.
And what I saw made my jaw drop.
Me. But not the "me" I remembered.
My hair was longer, thicker, shinier. My skin looked smooth and glowing. No dark circles. No tired eyes. My waist was smaller. My chest fuller. I looked like one of those AI filters people post online to pretend they're models.
"What the fuck?" I whispered, holding my mouth shut tight. Since when did I learn to use these vulgar words this badly?
A soft knock came from the door.
I jumped.
Then it opened—and a tall man in a black uniform stepped in, head bowed.
"Good morning, Iris," he said calmly. "Alpha Nikolai is waiting for you downstairs."
I scoffed out a laugh. Nikolai, an Alpha? What is he up to now? Shooting some dope werewolf movie show?
I turned around slowly and looked at the mirror again, and then I realized that I looked exactly like my character. The very girl I wrote in my apocalypse book!
The one Nikolai couldn't resist.
The Omega that everyone wanted to protect and claim.
"No fucking way! ," I whispered again, my heart racing. "Did I actually fall into my own story?"