Cursed Love (The Vallaverse)

38. Koa

Koa

The coffee machine gurgles as I fill my cup, the bitter scent filling the lounge. It’s too early and the slight buzz of conversation around me is like a low hum that I’m trying to tune out. I keep my head down, willing myself not to draw attention, but the whispers grow louder.

I turn to face them, my jaw tightening as I spot a few employees quickly averting their gazes. My patience is already thin. “What’s going on?” I ask as I approach an Omega who looks too damn nervous for her own good.

She flinches when I get close, her wide eyes darting around the room like she’s waiting for someone to save her. “N-Nothing,” she stammers, taking a step back.

“Try again,” I snap, my frustration bubbling over. “What’s wrong? Why is everyone staring?”

She glances around again before grabbing my arm and tugging me toward the hallway. Her grip is trembling and I follow her without protest, my mind racing. Once we’re out of earshot, she takes a deep breath, her face pale. “You shouldn’t just… walk up to people like that,” she whispers, her tone almost scolding. “You’re they’re Omega.”

I blink, confused. “What the hell does that mean?”

She winces at my tone, but her gaze doesn’t falter. “It means people here, they know who you belong to. You can’t just—” She cuts herself off, shaking her head. “Look, that’s not even the problem right now.”

I fold my arms over my chest, glaring. “Then what is the problem?”

Her lips press into a thin line before she pulls out her phone, her fingers trembling as she swipes through it. She stops on something, hesitating before tilting the screen toward me. “Someone made a post this morning,” she mutters. “It’s bad.”

The blood drains from my face as I read the headline on the screen. St. Clair Security Exposed: Illegal Activities, Client Exploitation, and More.

My heart sinks as I scroll through the post, my fingers trembling. It’s not just a vague accusation—it’s detailed. Too detailed. Names, dates, shady contracts… all things that no outsider should have access to.

The words on the screen blur as I stare at the post, my pulse pounding in my ears. There’s no signature, no clear author, but the formatting, the way the heading looks—I know it. I’ve seen it before, sprawled across papers Damien used to leave out on the kitchen table when I came home. My stomach twists into a tight knot as realization sinks in.

“Thank you,” I mutter to the Omega, handing her phone back with shaky hands. She gives me a worried look but doesn’t say anything as I turn and rush toward the stairs, my thoughts a chaotic mess.

Damien. Of course, it’s Damien. Who else would have access to this kind of information? Who else would be bold enough to try and ruin the men I’ve come to care for—men who’ve done nothing but protect me? My jaw clenches as I climb the stairs two at a time, determined to tell my mates exactly what I just saw.

But I barely make it halfway down the hall on the fifth floor when I feel a strong arm wrap around my waist, pulling me into a side room. A startled squeak escapes me as I spin around, ready to fight whoever grabbed me, only to meet Amel’s piercing gaze.

“Amel!” I hiss, my heart racing. “What the hell are you doing?”

His expression is calm, but his eyes betray a simmering intensity. “Quiet,” he murmurs, shutting the door behind us and steering me further into the room. It’s the conference room, the one with the floor-to-ceiling windows and the sleek black table. He doesn’t let go of my waist until we’re safely out of sight from the hall.

“What’s going on?” I demand, trying to keep my voice steady even as my heart pounds against my ribs.

“Damien’s here,” he says bluntly, his jaw tightening. “He’s meeting with Moses and Hunter right now.”

My stomach drops. “What? Why?”

Amel leans against the edge of the table, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “He showed up unannounced. He brought some kind of ultimatum—something about you coming home and severing ties with us. Said if we didn’t hand you over, he’d make life difficult for us.”

I take a step back, my legs suddenly feeling like jelly. “Does he know I’m here?”

Amel shakes his head. “No. And it’s better if it stays that way.” He studies me, his sharp gaze sweeping over my face. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost. What happened?”

I hesitate, my mind racing as I weigh whether or not to tell him about the post. But there’s no point in hiding it. They need to know. “There’s a post going around,” I say quietly. “It’s accusing the company of illegal activities, naming names, dates… it’s bad, Amel.”

His brow furrows, his posture going rigid. “What kind of post?”

I swallow hard, feeling the weight of his stare. “It doesn’t have a signature, but I recognize the emblem and the layout,” I admit. “It looks like it was posted from our family company’s website. I’ve seen it before.”

Amel’s expression darkens, a low growl rumbling in his chest. “Of course it’s him,” he mutters, running a hand through his hair. “That bastard’s been planning this for longer than we thought. It’s clear he’s desperate at this point, especially with the post, and since I didn’t know where you were—”

His voice trails off, but I catch the flicker of pain in his eyes. My chest tightens as I step closer, pressing my hand against his arm. “I’m here,” I say softly. “I’m safe.”

His jaw tightens, his shoulders relaxing ever so slightly as he nods. “You are. But that doesn’t mean we’re going to let him get away with this. Not after everything he’s done to you.”

I swallow hard, my mind flashing back to Damien’s sneer, his cruel words, his cold indifference when I cried for help. “What are you going to do?” I ask hesitantly, even though I’m not sure I want the answer.

Amel’s lips press into a thin line. “That depends,” he says carefully. “On you.”

My eyes narrow. “What do you mean?”

He leans back, his hands sliding into his pockets. “Koa, the men you’ve mated aren’t saints. None of us are,” he says. “We’ll never hurt you, but we handle disrespect—and threats—differently.”

A shiver runs down my spine as realization dawns on me. “The basement?” I whisper.

Amel nods, a small, humorless smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah, something like that.”

I take a shaky step back, my mind racing. “Amel… are you going to kill him?” My voice cracks on the last word, my heart hammering in my chest.

He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “That’s your choice, sweet girl,” he says softly, his eyes locking with mine. “You tell me what you want us to do and we’ll do it. If you want him to walk out of here alive, he will. But if you want him to pay for what he’s done—for what he’s put you through—we’ll take care of it.”

My breath catches, my throat tightening as I struggle to process his words. My brother. My tormentor. My past. Amel’s waiting, his expression patient but firm, and I realize that he’s serious. This is my decision. My power.

“I…” My voice falters, the weight of it all crashing down on me. “I don’t want him dead. There’s no reason Carla and my nephews have to suffer for his wrongdoings. He’s the breadwinner of the family and without him… no, don’t kill him. But there is something I want.”

Amel’s eyes soften slightly, his purr starting low in his chest as he reaches for me. “Okay,” he says simply, like it doesn’t matter to him either way. But I can see the way his jaw flexes, the tension in his shoulders that says otherwise. “Tell me what you do want.”

I chew on the inside of my cheek, tears prickling in my eyes. “I… I want to ask him why,” I whisper, my hands fisting at my sides. “I need to know if there was some twisted reason behind what he did or if he really is just that evil and greedy.”

Amel tilts his head, studying me with those sharp eyes that always seem to see more than I want him to. “You want answers,” he says like he’s testing the words out loud. “You think he’ll give them to you?”

“I don’t know,” I admit, the knot in my stomach tightening. “But I have to ask. I need to hear it from him. If I don’t… if I just let you—” I cut myself off, swallowing hard. “If I don’t try to understand, then I’ll never stop wondering.”

He nods slowly, his hand brushing a curl back from my face. “Alright, sweet girl,” he murmurs. “We’ll give you that chance. But when the time comes, if you feel unsafe or if he starts running his mouth, you let us handle it.”

I nod quickly, relief washing over me even as my chest feels heavier. “Thank you,” I whisper, my voice barely audible. A chance to look Damien in the face and ask him questions, knowing he can’t lunge at me? I want it. I crave it. And then I’m going to curl up in my nest and sleep away the nightmare between my mates.

Amel presses a kiss to my forehead, his purr wrapping around me like a shield. “You’re stronger than you think, Koa,” he says softly. “Don’t ever forget that.”