Unbreak Me (Fate’s Choice #3)

Day. 2

"I’ve got $400,000," Jan said plainly.

The room went silent. We all knew the harsh truth: with that amount, there was only one kind of contract he could afford.

The crazy one: Eternal.

Nolan’s eyes widened in surprise.

I’d added this type of contract to my list just in case, after reading about its surprising benefits—people called it ‘a good retirement’. Basically, it gave all the advantages to the contractee and none to the buyer. I never considered using it for real, it was more of a fun option than something I was seriously interested in.

My case guardian stared at Wilson with a gaping mouth, clearly at a loss for words. His reaction was predictable, to be honest. Most people steered clear of these contracts—too many omegas wanted to coast their way into a cushy retirement without lifting a finger.

Wilson noticed Nolan’s reaction. He shrugged lightly and said, "I get that this kind of contract isn’t popular. But I think it’s the most honest deal. If the contractee wants to give something, it’ll be sincere, not forced. Just like real life. No ‘service for a service’ exchange, no obligations—just something from the heart."

Nolan coughed loudly. "I get that, Mr. Wilson. It sounds noble, sure. It’s an interesting take on these contracts, but honestly, a bit…" He paused awkwardly. "…naive. I mean, you do realize the contractee doesn’t have to do anything for you, right? Meanwhile, you’re obligated to provide everything, plus a monthly payment, and you can’t back out. Not unless you somehow come up with a small fortune—which I assume you don't have."

Jan Wilson smiled ruefully. "I know, Mr. Nolan. I get all that. But… maybe we could at least become friends. Living alone isn’t easy. I’ve got a big house, and it’s empty. Sometimes I go days without anyone to talk to because my uncle’s busy working at City Hall and can’t visit often. My brothers don’t live nearby either. It’s just… unbearable, you know? Every so often, you just want someone around to talk about the weather with."

Nolan tilted his head. "If you’re that lonely, a lot of people recommend getting a dog. Or a cat."

What the hell?

Did Nolan actually say that? It almost sounded like he was trying to discourage Jan from buying my contract, despite his previous crazy insistence that we were ‘a thing’. I frowned but bit my tongue.

Should I even care? I came here with a plan , and I kept reminding myself that Jan was in for a disappointment.

Right?

Though it did baffle me too, how casually this guy approached such a permanent deal.

Rubbing my chin, I studied his handsome face.

Could his seemingly reckless approach stem from feeling the same as I did? This quiet certainty that we were compatible?

So was it, in fact, a LOW-RISK contract in his eyes?

Wilson didn’t seem offended by Nolan’s words. In fact, he let out a soft laugh and smiled, showing off a row of very nice, even, white teeth.

I must say, the guy was kind of stunning. The longer I looked, the harder it was to wrap my head around why he was still alone. I mean, his height couldn’t be that big of a deal to omegas. It definitely wasn’t to me. My eyes drifted down to his biceps, which strained under his thin black jacket. He was built .

"Yeah, everyone says that," Wilson agreed, still smiling. "I already have two dogs and two cats. But it’s not the same, you know? Forgive me, ha ha…"

Nolan awkwardly cleared his throat and straightened up, smiling. "Right, of course," he said, shaking off whatever weird stupor he’d fallen into. He shot me an almost apologetic glance before adding, "I’m not trying to discourage you from Day—absolutely not. I do believe you are a perfect match. But as a Fate’s Choice employee, I’m simply obligated to make sure you understand everything about this contract, since many people don’t read them carefully."

He paused to throw me a short but pointed look before continuing, "We’re responsible for your contract. You might not know this, but auction-and-fair houses offer free legal assistance if there are any issues with marital contract obligations. We monitor your affairs for years, helping at every step. So this is simply my duty to ensure both parties are 100% clear about what they’re signing up for." It sounded like he was rattling this off straight from the company handbook.

Jan let out a soft huff. "I appreciate that, really. It’s kind of you to lay it all out and warn me. But it doesn’t change how I feel."

"Good! There’s one more thing," Nolan interrupted, as if suddenly remembering. "Mr. Day expects both of you to be on suppressants. It’s written into the contract. That’s a lifelong obligation as well. You need to keep that in mind."

Wilson’s face twitched slightly at the mention of suppressants, but he nodded. "I understand. The only question left is whether Day would even consider entering into such a contract with me?"

Both of them suddenly looked at me.

A shiver ran down my spine. This was it—the moment I should back out.

My eyes rested on Wilson’s face, then drifted down to his broad chest. There was something about him—something familiar and comforting. He had this quiet energy I’d always associate with home, farmland, and safety. Yeah, a golden lab; he even had the colors with his sandy mane. This gentleness about him, something real and honest… though also a little sad, why was it drawing me in?

Just being objective—let’s not kid ourselves—he wasn’t a bad catch. The man had his own company, he was doing something with his life, and he looked really good .

There was something else, too—something I couldn't quite put my finger on. But it was too early to try to unravel that mystery.

So what should I do?

Do exactly this, what I was so skeptical and contemptuous about—make a lifetime decision based on a few minutes ’ conversation with a hot stranger?

I could not. I should not!

Just to test myself, I imagined the situation where I refused him and never saw him again; the shock on his face. He would slowly stand up and walk away, hunched back, crushed… Just the vision itself made my stomach clench painfully. A wave of anxiety and resistance hit me, and I slightly leaned forward. I had to stall—I needed more time!

"You’ve been honest with me, and I appreciate that," I said slowly, trying to choose my words carefully. "So before I answer, maybe I should tell you a bit about myself first. Since we’re all trying to figure out what this relationship might look like and make sure the terms are crystal clear for everyone," I added, my tone staying a bit formal.

I couldn't force the magic 'yes' for now, so I wanted to hold out a little longer to make sure he really wanted this—to see that he was consciously choosing me.

"Of course," Nolan jumped in, leaning toward me a little. "I think Mr. Wilson would definitely like to hear more about you," he added with an encouraging smile.

So I started, my voice falling into a flat, neutral tone.

"I come from a pretty poor family. My omega dad was a schoolteacher, but my alpha father worked in a factory—and unfortunately, he had a drinking problem. I’m the youngest of three. My older brothers moved out as soon as they could, but I stayed behind and watched my father’s condition get worse while he drank away the money my dad earned… But thanks to good grades, I managed to get a full-ride scholarship to a decent college. Freshman year, I met this alpha I fell for…" I winced awkwardly. "Everything seemed perfect. We were together for a few years, all the way through college, and we even started planning a wedding…" I trailed off, feeling the familiar twinge of anxiety creeping in. My jaw tightened as I looked away. "But a month before the wedding, he met his High Mate."

A quiet pause followed, and then Wilson said softly, "I’m really sorry."

I didn’t respond. What was there to say? It happened. Everyone in the ABO world knew that shadow hanging over every relationship—the possibility of losing your mate to someone they were biologically more compatible with.

"I wasn’t in a great place after that, as you can imagine," I went on. "Not long after he left, a friend of mine, who’d just become a surrogate, couldn’t stop talking about how great it was. He encouraged me to try it—surrogacy contracts pay really well. Back then, it sounded like a good idea, like the perfect choice for me, especially since I wasn’t ready for a normal relationship."

I paused, letting the words hang in the air. Nolan stared at the floor, and Wilson was looking at his hands, fingers intertwined, just listening without a word.

"So I went for it," I continued. "The money came in fast, but it went out even faster. Around that time, my dad got really sick. We spent a fortune on top-notch therapies for him—thankfully, they worked, and he got better. I also used the money to pay off their mortgage. After that first surrogacy, I decided to do it again. I figured I’d done it once, and it went well, so why not? And so… that became my plan. Year after year. But somehow, the money always vanished." I grimaced, as if trying to say ‘guilty as charged’. "Then, my alpha father had a work accident. That racked up costs. After that, there was a fire in the house. We sold the plot and bought a bigger one—I paid for that too, of course. My brothers kept needing help. One required cash for his business; the other for a car and a house. Then one of them got married and came to me for wedding expenses. And just like that, my money melted away." I stopped, feeling a familiar wave of anger bubbling up.

It wasn’t fun to talk about this—just thinking about all the dumb decisions I’d made was humiliating.

Still, Jan should know it. For reasons unknown, I needed him to hear exactly how I'd let my life spiral into such a mess. I hated lies, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to start a new life on a shaky foundation of half-truths.

Wait? Start a new life? Where did that thought come from? I was going to say ‘no’, the plan was still on, right?

Or no…

"And then…" My voice wavered. "During my last pregnancy, there were… complications. The baby was born premature. The parents blamed me for it—said I’d indirectly caused it—and I ended up having to pay them a huge settlement. The boy spent almost three months in the NICU, clinging to life, and their lawyer was… very good. By the time it was over, I’d lost almost all my savings. So here I am, thirty-four years old, basically starting from scratch."

Another heavy silence settled over us. Nolan looked uncomfortable, but I didn’t care. Jan, on the other hand, was calm. He just sat there, listening.

"I also gave running my own business a shot," I added, my voice tinged with bitterness. "I started a small publishing house. I wanted to help new, talented authors, mostly working pro bono. It was idealistic, I’m afraid. Then the economy tanked, and book sales plummeted. I guess I’m just not cut out to be a businessman." I shrugged and scratched my chin, feeling more and more like an idiot as I laid it all out there. Why was I oversharing?

At this point, I probably sounded irresponsible, naive, careless with money—let’s face it—a complete loser. That’s exactly how I felt. Would he still want me, knowing it?

And most importantly, should I even care?

But I did. I realized what had happened during those dreaded ‘few minutes’ of getting to know each other.

My lifetime decision had really started to form, overthrowing my plan .

"Anyway, that’s my story in a nutshell," I said, attempting a sarcastic grin. "And hey, I can promise I won’t be handing out business advice to anyone in the future."

The joke fell flat.

Their awkward expressions said it all. So I quickly added, this time more seriously, "And just to be clear, I’m not looking for another surrogacy contract. If Mr. Wilson is still interested, then…" I took a deep breath, bracing myself. "I agree to Eternal."

Boom.

The words were out. I’d said it.

I came to this fair with a clear and perfect plan . And it crumbled. With the FIRST GUY who showed interest. Beyond pathetic.

But here we were.

Jan looked at me for a moment, and our eyes met. I felt a strange tremor inside, and I held my breath. Why did I start to care if he agreed too?

Maybe I could try to sound a bit friendlier for a change? After all, it was a marriage proposal!

"And… to be forward about it, I won’t be such a bitch as the contract allows me to be. I just want a normal life, not to be a parasite," I added. Success. This time I managed to sound like a human being, not like a prickly hedgehog dripping with venomous acid.

"Yes, I'm still interested," Jan said softly.

As if by the wave of a magic wand, Strom Nolan immediately brightened up and straightened. The fucker practically jumped up! Yuppi yay, a win for his stupid company.

But, hopefully, also a chance for me. In the midst of it all. A small ray of hope.

"Well, that's excellent! Splendid! I'm sure both of you haven't had it easy in life, but maybe that's why you'll get along better. I see enormous potential here!" He enthusiastically gestured between me and Jan. "And I sense that this will all end well!" His smile was broad, even though Wilson and I still had the same, unspecified facial expressions, as if we both had trouble believing what just transpired.

"I'm very glad, yes, yes!" Nolan fumbled, folding stools. "So, I invite both of you to the office because there's no point in waiting. Right? Let's finalize this quickly," he babbled, already fidgeting and rubbing his hands together, clearly overjoyed to close another case.

Slowly, I also stood up. The height difference between me and Wilson was moderate—not as pronounced as it usually was with omegas and alphas—only about 3 inches separated us. Supposedly the ideal difference for a successful kiss. Um… What a stupid thought!

Of course, the most striking contrast was in our build. I was narrow and thin, and he was broad, with his massive chest and powerful, bulging muscles.

As we stepped out of the glass booth, the little red-haired omega greeted us outside. He seemed annoyingly radiant. Storm leaned down and pecked him on the forehead, which probably wasn't very professional considering he was in his workplace.

But I had already noticed that Nolan wasn't exactly the top professional employee of Fate’s Choice. I was still entertaining the thought of filing a complaint about him for snapping at me, but in the end, it didn’t really matter. I had other things on my mind now. Like getting married!

"I'm glad you've reached an agreement," the omega said to Jan, his smile wide.

Jan nodded politely. He thanked the guy and followed Nolan.

…Jan.

I started calling him by his name pretty quickly.

The four of us had to push through the crowd of visitors before we finally reached the small office I had been to before. All the time, I had the impression that it was all a dream—incredible, strange, but only a dream.

Just as we were about to enter, Nolan cleared his throat and slowed down.

"There’s another client of mine inside right now, on his lunch break. He… isn’t allowed to eat in the cafeteria because of his, um, special situation. I can’t go into details due to privacy reasons, but please don’t be alarmed—he’s… handcuffed."

"What?" I blurted out, completely taken aback.

Nolan looked uncomfortable. "Yes, well, Salt is part of the Second Chance program. It allows people with a criminal past to enter into marriage agreements under specific conditions. He is one of them. Please don’t let the situation bother you—Salt’s here consensually and has agreed to the terms of the program."

Neither Jan nor I said a word. The redhead just watched us with a subtle smile.

We entered the office, and the scene inside immediately hit us like a slap to the face.

Two people were already there: a police officer and… a young beta convict, sitting in a chair with a lunchbox in front of him.

And let me tell you, the guy was something else! Half of his head was shaved short, while the other half sported neon blue hair that fell to his shoulders. Tattoos covered the shaved side of his head and the left side of his neck—something resembling spiders or insects—while piercings decorated his nose, eyebrow, and ears. I couldn’t deny it—he had a striking face, sharp and undeniably attractive—but he wasn’t everyone’s cup of tea, that’s for sure. What really stood out were his eyes. One was completely black, while the other was light gray, creating a shockingly eerie contrast.

I think we all—redhead included—stared at him with expressions so ridiculous that the guy must’ve found it amusing. A contemptuous, smug smirk appeared on his lips, and he even let out a short snort. He was dressed all in black, exuding an unapologetically edgy vibe.

Nolan gestured for us to sit at the table, pretending like nothing unusual was happening and making no effort to introduce us to the guy—not that he had any reason to.

At the table, Jan was handed a few forms to fill out and a detailed version of the contract to read. But I could tell he was having a hard time focusing on the text.

Meanwhile, the little red-haired omega snuggled up to Nolan and whispered something to him, giggling softly. They talked a bit about some Nathaniel who was about to come very soon. I watched them with a pang of envy; their natural closeness and warmth stirred a longing in me—a quiet hope that I could someday have that kind of relationship again. I used to have it, once… before Nico left.

I quickly shifted my gaze back to Jan. He had slightly furrowed brows as he filled in the lines on the form with small, fine handwriting. I noticed his hands; they were the big hands of a man accustomed to physical work. I felt a slight shiver, though I wasn't sure if it was from fear or hope that maybe one day his hands would touch my body.

No. That’s enough. My thoughts couldn’t go too far. My past was… I wasn’t healed from what happened, and I wasn’t ready to face what could lie ahead. I had just met the man!

Although I must admit, with every passing minute, the cautious feeling grew within me that Jan could indeed be the right choice for me. He seemed somewhat shy and hesitant, and I hated cocky, aggressive, overconfident alphas.

Because there was a prolonged silence in the room, interrupted only by the rustling of the paper lunchbox package as the beta ate, I decided to say something, just for the sake of it. Glancing at Nolan, I muttered, "So, what's the thing with your talent for pairing people? Are you on our cases for this reason only?"

The Fate’s Choice employee smiled with subtle pride. "Well, yes. And I do believe I have a knack for it. I hope you'll let me know how it goes between you two. I like to stay in touch with my clients."

Neither Jan nor I commented on whether we would. I think we were both a bit annoyed by his ostentatious looks, his outward happiness, and a certain odd, unprofessional pushiness.

The redhead omega was still basically glued to his side and seemed completely in love with his ridiculously tall boyfriend. I averted my gaze from him just to avoid rudely staring at their lovey-dovey activities.

Now was a good time to point out to him that bringing his boyfriend to work and basically making out with him in front of us was highly inappropriate. And yes, I caught the moment when he squeezed the omega's butt! But I wasn't that much of a bitch to spoil people's lovely vibing on the day I was signing my own marriage contract.

When Eternal was finally signed—I also added my signature—Jan made a transfer to the account I had specified in the contract, minus, of course, the intermediary fee for Fate’s Choice.

After the bank confirmed the transfer, Nolan straightened up with a broad smile, saying, "So, what are your plans now, Day? Are you ready to move in with Jan today, or do you want to plan it for later?"

Surprised by the question, I instinctively winced. I was just too accustomed to those unpleasant grimaces.

And what should I even respond? Admit I had quite a different PLAN before, one that did not include moving in with a stranger?

"I think we need to discuss this further. Honestly, I didn't expect things to turn out this way during this fair, so I'm not packed."

Jan coughed quietly. "If you like, I can help you pack and move your stuff…"

"I can handle packing," I muttered, just out of habit using my favorite rude tone. "But I'll definitely need help moving things to the car and out," I quickly added, angry at myself. Why couldn't I just stop with this bitchy tone and my bitch face?

Nolan seemed bored with this part of the conversation, his hands already on the redhead's back like he was losing interest in our existence.

Their eyes met, and I just felt that sparkling energy in the air—they were so into each other, probably hoping to find a moment to fuck passionately in some storage room. A small sigh escaped me involuntarily; that kind of reality still seemed far away from my world.

My eyes darted to the convict, and I caught him staring at Nolan and the redhead too. I could swear he shared my feelings, but oh well. For him, any relationship was probably a million miles away. If it wasn’t easy for an ex-sex worker to find a husband here, it was almost impossible for a convict.

That’s when I noticed Jan peering at the laptop sitting open on Nolan’s desk. Camera feeds from the glass booths were displayed on the screen, slowly switching views. The first two were empty; one I recognized as mine, and the other was likely the convict’s booth. Then the view switched again… I spotted Mr. Ferro.

Jan suddenly raised his eyebrows and touched the screen, pausing the rotation. "I saw that short omega in the fifth section. I think his name is Darien. Are you also handling his case?"

Nolan looked a bit embarrassed, clearly not wanting to discuss his clients' matters, but before he could answer, the convict threw in his line:

"You probably shouldn’t check out the pretty prince of the fair. That’s rude, considering your new husband stands right beside you looking like a starved scarecrow."

His voice was husky, almost sensual in tone, but also pretty vile. A horrifying silence fell.

We all stared at him, but Jan was the first to recover.

"I would appreciate it if you didn’t offend my new husband. If you must know, I find him more attractive than the… Darien person. I met the man before, and there was no spark. And I only asked because the guy doesn't fit into the fair or this section. He’s just an odd one out."

"Suuure! Your excuse of an answer is as fake as Stormy’s glowing eyeballs."

The redhead omega growled, "His eyes are natural, soap-dropper!"

The convict shrugged. "Is that a lame attempt at a prison joke? You’re sooo creative, fatty!"

Storm spread his arms wide and growled, "Okay, enough of this!"

Only then did the policeman react. He lowered himself and grabbed the convict’s blue hair, brutally pulling his head back. The beta groaned.

The scene was surreal and shocking—my eyes fixated on the convict: his head thrown back, lips agape, body immobilized…

The sight awakened dark memories I’d buried deep within myself, recollections that resurfaced and made me shiver. The feeling of being overwhelmed, helpless, and brutalized…

"Release him!" I screamed, clenching my eyelids shut. "Release him now!"

"Calm down, mister. I know how to handle guys like Salt," the policeman said, his tone sharp. "He knows how to stir this game, provoke people around; he likes the end result."

"Let him go," I repeated, my voice breaking. I thought I felt Jan’s careful, attentive eyes on me.

"Please, officer, let him go," Jan said, as if wanting to reinforce my request.

Salt giggled, unfazed by what had happened, and snarled, "Oh, I can sense a skeleton in your closet, Scarecrow. I’ve got four in mine."

"You really have a mouth on you, Salt. Don’t make it impossible for people to like you, especially at the fair… I’m not a miracle worker," Storm said harshly, his forehead creased with a vertical line.

The whole scene was getting way too chaotic for my taste.

"We should probably go," Jan said, standing near me, seemingly feeling the same. His voice was warm and comforting, like a soft quilt.

Feeling embarrassed by my outburst, I took a step back. Removing ourselves from the situation was probably the best idea, so I cleared my throat and muttered, "Agreed, we should go."

Jan exchanged a few words of goodbye with Storm and the redhead omega, while I stood there, biting my lips. My gaze wandered toward the laptop’s display.

There, I noticed a tall guy standing in front of Darien’s booth. But he turned away as if leaving, and I could see his face. He had only… half of it!

Even on the small screen, it was obvious he was a victim of some horrible accident.

"Look, Storm!" the redhead omega exhaled, pointing at the screen. "It’s Nathaniel! He came!"

"And right where he needs to be! We should go—"

"No, no! It’s perfect. We shouldn’t disturb it. He can’t know!"

But I didn’t hear the rest of the conversation because my new husband opened the door for me, and we stepped outside.

Suddenly, we were in the corridor.

Alone, Jan and I.