Chapter 9
9
T he room beyond the door is larger than I expected, bathed in soft, warm lighting that can’t disguise the horror of what’s happening here.
A dozen Omegas stand or sit around the perimeter, each dressed in flowing, delicate fabrics reminiscent of the emerald silk number clinging to my body.
Pretty wrapping paper for merchandise.
My hand twitches, wanting to reach for the gun hidden beneath my dress. I want to kill Vince so badly I can already imagine the warmth of his blood on my hands.
“Magnificent, aren’t they?” Vince sweeps his arm in a grand gesture, like a museum curator showing off prize exhibits. “Each one hand-selected for their unique qualities.”
I force myself to remain passive, even as rage boils under my skin. These Omegas—men and women of various ages—stare at the floor or distant points on the wall, avoiding any direct eye contact. None wear collars, which tracks. Buyers would want to be sure the merchandise hasn’t already been claimed.
Raphael takes in the room, his body language relaxed, but his fingers tap a restless rhythm on his thigh, tension humming beneath the surface. “You let them roam free in here?”
Vince laughs, the sound grating on my nerves. “Chains leave marks and cages are so vulgar.” He reaches out to stroke the cheek of a young male Omega who can’t be more than twenty. The boy flinches but doesn’t pull away. “There are more effective ways to ensure compliance.”
I catalog the details, channeling my rage into observation. The Omegas’ clothing is expensive and revealing, with sheer panels, strategic cutouts, and high slits like the one in my own dress. The fabrics shimmer under the recessed lighting, silks, satins, and a material woven with a faint metallic thread that catches the light with each subtle shift.
Beautiful display pieces.
Vince weaves through the group as if evaluating livestock, brushing a shoulder here, the curve of a cheek there. The Omegas hold themselves motionless during his rounds, expressions blank. Sedated, or trained through fear. Either explanation sets my trigger finger twitching.
I scan the faces, searching for any sign of Jade among them. It’s been a few years since I last saw him, when he was still a teenager. But Omega men don’t change much after puberty. We don’t pack on muscle the way Alphas do, and our frames lean toward delicate even in adulthood. Some of us can pass as Betas, with the rare outlier who can challenge an Alpha, but I doubt that’s the case with Jade.
And as I examine each face, disappointment settles heavy in my chest.
He’s not among this group.
After not finding him at the mansion, we had hoped to locate him here. Hopefully, one of the other teams has better luck.
The Omega nearest to me is a woman with auburn hair cut in a severe bob. Her eyes flicker to mine, the momentary connection speaking volumes. She’s still present, still fighting somewhere inside.
I turn my head before I’m tempted to offer something I can’t guarantee.
“See anything you like?” Vince nudges Raphael with his elbow, his attention shifting toward the woman. “This one’s spirited. Took three of my men to subdue her when we brought her in.”
The woman’s head drops, but not before I catch a flash of defiance.
Good. Hold on to that.
“I’m in search of something special.” Raphael’s hand settles on the small of my back again. “My pet is quite particular about who joins our household.”
Vince’s eyebrows rise, and he studies me with renewed interest. “Fascinating. Most Alphas who come here don’t give their toys such… agency.”
“I find it makes for a more harmonious household.” Raphael’s thumb traces small circles at the base of my spine. “Sometimes, he’s better at anticipating what I want than I am.”
I force myself deeper into character, leaning into Raphael’s touch and offering a coy smile. “I only want to be certain you’re satisfied, Alpha.”
The words burn on the way out. I’ve fought my entire career to be seen as more than just an Omega, building my reputation in the underground weapons trade on competence and ruthlessness, not biology. Yet here I am, playing into every stereotype I’ve spent years defying.
Vince watches our exchange with greedy interest, his attention lingering on where Raphael’s hand touches my skin. “You’ve trained this one well. Perhaps you could give me some pointers. My merchandise can be reluctant at the start.”
“It’s all about finding the right motivation.” Raphael’s voice takes on that Alpha timbre that used to undo me. “This one has learned that the rewards for good behavior are worth the effort.”
I let my focus wander the room again, seeking a distraction from this conversation. The space is circular, with plush seating areas arranged like the spokes of a wheel. The center holds a raised platform for displaying the merchandise. The walls are deep burgundy, with the dark hardwood floors polished to a high shine.
No windows, as expected. One main entrance, the door we came through, and what appears to be a service door on the far side, guarded by a burly Alpha with a blank expression.
“This one has unusual coloring.” Vince gestures to a male Omega with striking purple irises. “Genetic modification. New on the market and extremely rare. The color responds to Alpha pheromones by changing hue. Quite expensive, of course, but well within your means.”
The Omega stares ahead, his strange eyes unfocused. He wears flowing lavender pants to match his irises with a short, open vest to leave most of his torso bare. His skin has an almost pearlescent quality under the soft lighting.
“Interesting, but a little too flamboyant.” Raphael plays his part perfectly. “I want to complement my pet, not outshine him.”
“Why don’t you come closer to examine the merchandise?” Vince motions toward the assembled Omegas with a casual flick of his wrist. “You’re welcome to handle the goods. That’s what they’re here for.”
Around the room, the Omegas stiffen, each of them lowering their heads as if searching for new spots on the floor to focus on. Anger coils in my chest, so intense it almost burns through my cover.
Raphael gives me a gentle push toward the seating area. “Wait there, pet. Let me see what we’re working with first.”
I obey, playing my role while every instinct screams to reach for my weapon. Settling onto a plush crimson chaise lounge, I arrange myself in what I hope is a decorative pose, legs crossed at the ankles to maintain access to my holster. From here, I have a clear view of both the access points and the guards.
Raphael approaches the Omegas with the confident stride of a man accustomed to getting what he wants. His broad shoulders and commanding presence draw every eye in the room, a gravitational pull that’s both natural and practiced.
Vince follows a step behind, eager at the prospect of a sale. “This one has been trained in classical arts.” He places his hand on the shoulder of a slender male Omega with copper-colored hair. “Piano, poetry, and dance. A cultured companion for your more refined evenings.”
The Omega raises his head, revealing irises the color of burnished gold, but his stare is vacant from the drugs used to keep them compliant.
“Interesting.” Raphael reaches out to touch the Omega’s face.
A hot spike of possessiveness shoots through me as Raphael’s fingers trace the line of the Omega’s jaw. It’s irrational, this jealousy. Absurd. Raphael is acting, playing a role just as I am. And even if he weren’t, I don’t care what he does with other people.
Yet I can’t deny the tightening in my chest as Raphael’s thumb brushes over the Omega’s lower lip, a gesture so intimate that my own lips tingle in phantom response.
“Very nice skin tone.” Raphael tilts the Omega’s head up toward the light. “What else can he do besides look pretty?”
Vince smiles, all teeth and no warmth. “Anything you desire. That’s the beauty of proper training.”
Raphael moves to the next Omega in line, a woman with alabaster skin and coal-black hair down to her waist. His hands skim down her bare arms, and I see red as I resist the urge to launch across the room and remind him there’s only one Omega he should be touching.
“A good choice.” Vince watches as Raphael inspects her. “She would provide a beautiful contrast to your current pet. And her scent profile is unique as well. Spicy, with undertones of vanilla and clove.”
Raphael leans in, inhaling at the crook of her neck, and my nails press into my palms until crescent marks bloom across my skin. The response hits hard and without warning, a sudden rush of possessiveness I have no right to claim. Raphael isn’t mine. Hasn’t been for five years. But that fact does nothing to cool the jealousy clawing its way through my chest.
As if sensing my distress, Raphael casts a look over his shoulder. Our eyes lock across the room, and the corner of his mouth lifts in a knowing smirk that begs me to slap him. He’s always been too perceptive, too attuned to my emotional states. Even now, after everything.
“Pet, come here.” He crooks a finger at me. “I want your opinion.”
I rise from the chaise, moving with deliberate grace across the polished floor. My heels click with each step, the sound amplified in the tense quiet of the room. The slit in my dress parts with each stride, offering fleeting glimpses of skin.
Vince watches my approach with undisguised interest. “Your pet moves beautifully. Such natural grace. Was he trained before you acquired him?”
“He came to me with many talents.” Raphael bites his bottom lip as I approach. “Some more surprising than others.”
When I reach them, Raphael extends his hand. I take it, allowing him to pull me close to his side. His scent envelops me, and my body recognizes him on a molecular level. It’s infuriating how I respond to his pheromones, even after all this time, a quickening pulse, a subtle shift in my own scent that he can detect.
“What do you think?” Raphael gestures at the woman before us. “Is she to your liking?”
I study her, searching for signs of her true condition beneath the staged presentation. Unlike many of the others, she doesn’t appear drugged, and there are no obvious injection marks on her visible skin. Well-fed, though lean. A recent acquisition, most likely.
“She’s lovely.” I shrug with disinterest. “But I’m not sure she’s what we’re searching for.”
Displeasure tightens Vince’s features. “Your pet is picky.”
Raphael lets out an indulgent chuckle and cups my cheek as he answers Vince. “It’s worth it to indulge him. When he’s happy, his gratitude is highly satisfying.”
Vince accepts the excuse with a slight tilt of his head, though his gaze remains calculating. “Perhaps it would be better to let him play, then, while we discuss business.”
Raphael’s hand drops to palm my ass, tugging me flush to his front. “Would you like that, pet?”
I rub myself against him. “Yes, please, Alpha.”
His head dips. “Ask properly.”
My arms lift to wind around his neck, and I rise onto my toes to press our lips together. I intend to keep the kiss chaste, but Raphael has other ideas, his hand cupping the back of my head as his tongue sweeps along the seam of my lips, demanding entry.
With our audience watching, I have no choice but to open to him, and his wet heat invades my mouth, filthy and all-consuming as he lays claim to every nook and cranny. He tastes like home, like my Alpha , and a needy whimper escapes as I melt into his embrace, giving myself over.
A satisfied rumble rises from his chest as he lifts his head and wipes the dampness from my lips with his thumb. “Go on, then. See if you like any of the ones here.”
It takes longer than I’d like to collect my wits and step back from him, which only enhances the believability of the act.
I turn to the Omega with purple irises, giving him a cursory once-over while he stares ahead, unseeing. I’ve heard the rumors about genetic mods, but seeing one in the flesh twists my stomach.
I move to the next Omega, repeating the performance, trying to distance myself from the horrors these people have been put through. Behind me, Raphael keeps Vince talking, tossing out questions about stock rotation and acquisition like he’s discussing wine, not people. His manner remains calm, even affable, as though trading humans is no different than managing any other inventory.
I’m almost done with the room when the auburn-haired woman catches my attention again, the clarity in her expression out of place here.
I lean in as if examining her features, my back to Vince. “Jade Bustley. Blond hair, dark roots. Blue eyes. Have you seen him?”
Her focus shifts toward the Alphas before she gives the smallest shake of her head. Then, so quietly I almost miss it, “They separate the ones who fight.”
My pulse quickens. Information. “Where?”
Before she can answer, Raphael steps in behind me, his hand coming around to splay over my stomach. “Found something you like, pet?”
I straighten and turn to him with a pout. “They’re nice, but not quite what I had in mind.”
Raphael’s hand slides up from my stomach to just below my chest, his thumb tracing the underside of my rib cage. The touch is proprietary, designed to showcase his control over me, but it’s also achingly familiar, stirring memories of countless nights when those same hands mapped every inch of my skin.
“I agree. They’re all quite…adequate.” Raphael steps back, his expression neutral as he turns to Vince. “But I must confess, I expected more variety from an operation with your reputation.”
Vince’s eye twitches, annoyance flashing across his face before he smooths his expression. “This is merely my current batch. Quality merchandise requires careful sourcing.”
Raphael surveys the room, the slight arch of his brow conveying displeasure. “So, this is all you have to offer at present?”
The implication that Vince’s operation is smaller or less impressive than advertised lands as intended.
Vince straightens, affronted pride evident in his posture. “My inventory rotates regularly. If you don’t see anything you like today, perhaps you could describe your specific requirements. For a client of your caliber, I’m sure we could arrange a special request.”
Raphael hums noncommittally, his hand returning to the small of my back. “I’m interested in toys with a bit more spirit. Male, early twenties with an athletic build. We need someone with stamina.” Raphael lifts my chin and brushes his thumb across my cheekbone. “And I’m fond of blue eyes.”
My breath catches. He’s fishing and growing dangerously specific.
“Spirited can be arranged, though they require more breaking in.” Vince’s focus shifts to me before returning to Raphael. “Though that is part of the fun.”
“It’s so satisfying when they finally submit.” Raphael’s thumb presses between my lips, and I suck on it, drawing a satisfied purr from him before he withdraws and turns back to Vince. “How soon can you acquire new products? I’m not a patient man.”
Raphael’s hand slides through the slit in my dress, fingers brushing my bare thigh. The touch is electric, sending a jolt of heat through my body, stemming not from our mission but from five years of denial and distance.
His fingertips trace the edge of my holster, then move higher, caressing the sensitive skin of my inner thigh in a way that’s unnecessary for our cover but devastatingly effective at shorting out my brain functions.
Vince focuses on where Raphael’s hand disappears into the folds of my dress. His pupils dilate, and the lustful expression on his face makes me want to shower for a week.
“I could get some new toys delivered within a few hours if you’re willing to wait.” He stares at Raphael and me like we’re a delicious meal he can’t wait to devour. “In the meantime, I’d be happy to escort you to one of our private rooms where you can entertain yourselves.”
Raphael’s hand remains on my thigh, his fingers tracing idle patterns to keep Vince distracted while sending unwelcome heat through my body. “That sounds like an excellent arrangement. What do you think, pet? Shall we indulge while we wait?”
I lean into him, playing my role even as I calculate how long we’ve been inside and whether the other teams have already completed their missions. “I live to please you, Alpha.”
Vince’s smile widens, revealing teeth too white and perfect to be natural. “If you’ll follow me, I’ll show you to our most luxurious suite. The acoustics are excellent.”
The implication hangs in the air, and I force my expression to remain placid, though my fingers twitch with the desire to wrap around the grip of my weapon.
Not yet. We need to see the private areas and map more of the facility. We need to be smart about this if we want all the Omegas to escape unharmed.
“Lead the way.” Raphael’s arm slides around my waist as we prepare to follow Vince.
The trafficker gestures to his guards, then reaches for his phone again. “Let me just alert the staff to prepare the room for your entertainment.”
As he taps at the screen, Raphael and I exchange glances. We’ve already been in here longer than anticipated. If Vince gets wind of other people in the Omega trafficking ring getting hit, it might spook him. We might have to take him from the club instead of waiting for him to leave at his usual time.
“Would you care to take in the show?” Raphael offers smoothly. “As you saw earlier, my pet enjoys being watched.”
Vince pauses in his typing, considering this. “A tempting invitation.”
Like the cameras tucked into the corners wouldn’t catch every angle for him to review the footage later, with or without permission.
“Yes, I’m due for a break.” He returns to his phone, fingers moving across the screen. “One of my men will alert me when the new merchandise arrives.”
It’s less than ideal, and we’ll have to disable the cameras, but with our extraction team, we can pull it off.
Vince tucks his phone away and grins at us. “Shall we adjourn to the suite for some fun?—”
Faint, unmistakable pops cut him off, the sound dampened by distance and walls but recognizable to anyone who’s spent time around firearms.
Gunshots.
Fuck. Adrenaline floods my system. Someone jumped the gun, and we’re trapped with multiple armed men and bystanders.