Chapter 13 Emilio
Emilio
I'm all but vibrating in the backseat of the car, my leg bouncing uncontrollably as Otto navigates through traffic.
The anxiety is crawling under my skin, making it impossible to sit still.
My hands are clenched in my lap, knuckles white, and I keep checking the time on my phone even though I know it's only been a minute since I last looked.
Forty minutes until the vote. Forty minutes to figure out how to save everything.
My phone vibrates in my hand, and I turn on the screen, expecting another threatening message from Zaden or another missed call from Charles. But instead, I see a notification from one of the chat rooms I used to hang out in with other Omegas.
The group has been pretty quiet lately, everyone moving on with their lives, finding their places in the world. I haven't posted in weeks, too busy with the club and the pregnancy to keep up with online friendships. But seeing the notification makes something in my chest loosen slightly.
I open the app and see a message from Coolblue. The username makes me smile despite everything, remembering when we first started talking years ago. He was one of the first people who made me feel like being an Omega didn't have to define me, that I could be more than what society expected.
Coolblue: Hey man, I saw some things about your club on Social Books. You okay?
I grimace, staring at the message. Of course, he saw something. Those pictures are probably everywhere by now, circulating through social media and gossip sites. Zaden would have made sure of that. I'm about to type back when another message pops up, this time from MacNCheese.
MacNCheese: Please tell me you're okay?
The concern in her message makes my throat tight.
These people barely know me, just a username and the stories I've shared over the years.
But they care more than most of the people I see every day.
I quickly type up a response, my thumbs moving fast over the screen.
My username, ClassyO, was something I created when I was eighteen and thought I was so clever.
Now it just feels like a relic from a simpler time.
ClassyO: Yeah, I'm good. About to go have some Alphas' asses.
Coolblue: Thank fuck. It said you were offline and everything.
I type back, needing the distraction from the anxiety churning in my gut.
ClassyO: Just been busy with… everything. And now I have to prove that I'm not just an Omega, so I don't lose my club.
Razorfox: Sometimes it's okay to be just an Omega. The world tells us we're not strong enough, so we try to be more, but maybe that's all you need to be.
Maybe that's all I need to be. But how can I just be an Omega when everyone is waiting for me to fail, when they're all expecting me to crumble under the pressure? Being just an Omega means giving up control, means letting someone else take over. And I can't do that. I won't.
Strawberrybubbles’ icon pops up, three little dots waving over the bottom textbox.
She found her Alphas months ago but only made it official in just over a month ago and kind of dropped off after that, only popping in occasionally to share updates about how happy she is.
Part of me has always been jealous of that, of how easy it seemed for her to find what she was looking for.
Strawberrybubbles: You're running a club while pregnant, ClassyO. You're a lot stronger than you give yourself credit for. You don't need to be anything other than you.
Coolblue: Oh look at Ms. Strawberry all grown up!
Razorfox: When did you get so wise?
MacNCheese: Careful or we'll think you actually have your shit together now.
Strawberrybubbles: I’m not wise. I’m just having babies of my own and I couldn’t imagine having to work.
Well, that’s a new development but I’m not surprised. The tensions in my chest eases a little bit as I type back. Thank you. Wish me luck.
A flurry of good luck messages and encouragement fill my screen before I stuff the phone into my pocket as the car comes to a stop outside the back of the club, closest to the conference room. Otto turns in his seat to look at me, a small smile playing on his lips. "Ready for this?"
"No," I say honestly. "But I don't have a choice."
Otto studies me for a moment, his eyes taking in my wrinkled clothes and tired face. "Do you want to change?"
I stare down at the clothes I wore yesterday, the same ones Liam washed for me.
They're clean but obviously not fresh, and I know I don't look my best. But something about showing up looking polished and put together feels wrong.
Like I'd be playing into their expectations, trying to prove I can be perfect when I'm clearly not.
I shake my head. "No, it's better that I don't. I need to make a statement."
I need them to see that I'm not going to pretend everything is fine. I need them to see the reality of what happened, not some sanitized version where I've had time to fix my appearance and craft the perfect story.
We get out of the car, and I take a deep breath before heading toward the back entrance. The hallway is quiet, the club not open yet, just the cleaning crew preparing for tonight. If there is a tonight. If I still have a club after this meeting.
The conference room door is closed when I reach it, low murmurs that stop the moment I push the door open. All eyes turn to me as I step inside, and I force myself to stand tall, to meet their gazes without flinching.
The investors are all there, seated around the long table as per usual.
Charles is at the far end, his judgmental expression immediately taking me in.
Cole, the owner of Neon Dreams, sits beside him.
A few other investors I recognize are scattered around the table, their faces ranging from concerned to outright hostile.
And then there's Zaden, standing at the head of the table like he already owns the place. He's leaning back with his arms crossed, that smug smile on his face that makes me want to punch him. He thinks he's won. He thinks this is finally his moment to take everything from me.
The room goes quiet as I walk in, the only sound my footsteps on the hardwood floor. I move to stand across from Zaden, refusing to let him intimidate me. Otto follows me in and takes his place by the door, his presence a silent reminder that I'm not completely alone in this.
Charles clears his throat, breaking the silence.
"I'm sure you have a great explanation for why the owner was drugged up and caught in pictures." The Alpha has already decided I’m guilty which isn’t a surprise but that just means he was probably one of the reasons this meeting was called.
Like this is just a formality before they vote me out.
"Actually, I do have an explanation," I say, forcing my voice steady despite the nerves churning in my stomach. "Last night, I was drugged without my knowledge."
Another investor, a man named Gregory with silver hair and a permanent scowl, scoffs. "You're just saying that. We all know that you're close with the Stark Alphas. Everyone knows they deal drugs. It's not a stretch to think you were sampling the merchandise."
The accusation makes my blood boil. "I'm pregnant, as most of you knew before. I would never harm my child. Those drugs could have killed us both." I pause, letting the weight of that sink in. "What I want to know is who drugged me and why. I'll get to the bottom of this."
Charles leans forward, his fingers steepled in front of him.
"That's all well and good, Emilio. But the fact remains that you were incapacitated during one of the most important nights for the club.
The Neon Dreams launch was supposed to establish us as a premier venue, and instead, we have pictures of you looking like you can't handle your own product circulating online. "
Cole speaks up, his voice abnormally calm for a situation like this.
I also don’t know who invited this guy to our private meetings when he wouldn’t even have a vote in the matter.
"The launch itself went well from a sales perspective.
Neon Dreams sold better than we projected.
But the optics are concerning. Our brand is about fun and safety, and having the club owner appear to be under the influence doesn't align with our values. "
Zaden steps forward, that smug smile growing wider.
"Which is why I stepped up last night. Someone had to keep things running smoothly while my brother was…
indisposed. The VIP section was a disaster when I took over, but I got it sorted.
Made sure our clients were taken care of. Made sure the sponsor was happy."
I want to call bullshit and point out that Otto said Zaden was suspiciously active last night, almost like he knew I'd be out of commission. But I don't have proof. Not yet. And making accusations without evidence will only make me look more unstable.
Charles looks around the table. "I think we need to vote on whether Emilio remains as CEO of Aurum Pulse. All in favor of keeping him in his current position?"
The room erupts into discussion, voices overlapping as the investors talk over each other.
Some are arguing in my favor, pointing out my track record and the success of the club under my management.
Others are arguing for my removal, citing last night's incident and my pregnancy as evidence that I can't handle the pressure.
Gregory is particularly vocal. "We can't have someone running the club who's going to be dealing with a newborn in a few months. It's not practical. And if he can't even keep himself safe, how is he supposed to keep the club safe?"
Another investor, a woman named Patricia, who's always been somewhat supportive, counters. "Emilio's parents trusted him with this club for a reason. One incident doesn't negate years of successful management."