Chapter 21 Liam
Liam
The next two nights pass smoothly, which should be reassuring but instead just makes me more anxious.
Smooth means we're missing something, means whoever killed River covered their tracks well enough that we can't find any more details.
Akira and I spend hours going over everything we know, talking to our guys, following every possible lead.
But nothing concrete emerges. Just dead ends and vague possibilities.
We keep our eyes out for anyone named Chad, asking around the club, checking with Otto's security team, even reaching out to some of our contacts in other venues.
But Chad is apparently a ghost. Nobody knows him, nobody's seen him, and the few Chads who do work in the nightlife scene don't match River's vague description of an older guy who wanted something special.
Finally, after two days of getting nowhere—except for the fact that Jax also met Chad, Akira and I realize we need to bring in Jax into the club.
Let him actually see the people, identify who this mysterious Chad really is.
It's risky, bringing the guy who nearly got us arrested for murder into Emilio's establishment.
But we're out of options, and time is running out.
The police are still investigating, still looking for evidence that connects us to River's death.
We need to find the real culprit before they decide we're guilty enough to be arrested again.
My mind drifts to Emilio and I sigh, wondering what went wrong.
We haven’t fucked since that moment in his office.
The tension between the three of us has shifted into something complicated and uncertain.
Emilio seems to be a mixture of embarrassed and confused about our changing relationship, avoiding prolonged eye contact and keeping physical distance when we're all in the same room.
Part of me wants to push, wants to force the conversation about what we're becoming.
But I agree it's too fast, even if I've had eyes on Emilio for months.
Even if every instinct I have screams that he's mine, that he belongs with us.
Akira and I decided to give him space, let him process everything without the added pressure of our expectations.
But that doesn't make it easier. Every time I see him, every time I catch his natural scent or hear his voice, the growing bond between us pulls tighter.
Makes me want to close the distance he's creating, remind him of how good it is when he lets us take care of him.
Tuesday evening finds us in the VIP section with Jax.
The Alpha looks nervous, his eyes darting around the room like he expects someone to attack him at any moment.
Can't really blame him for that, considering what Akira let the guys do to him last time.
We promised he'd be safe as long as he cooperated, but trust doesn't come easy after he’s been beaten within an inch of his life.
Jax sits between Akira and me, his posture tense, his face scrunched up with bruises and cuts, one eye fully swollen shut.
The booth gives us a good view of the entire VIP area, all the tables and the bar and the entrance.
People come and go, the usual mix of wealthy clients looking to party with expensive alcohol and designer drugs. Everything seems normal, routine.
Then Jax goes still. His entire body locks up, and he nods subtly toward an older gentleman sitting at the bar. The guy looks to be in his fifties, well-dressed in a tailored suit, silver hair perfectly styled. He's nursing a scotch and talking to one of the bartenders, completely at ease.
"That's him," Jax whispers, his voice barely audible over the music. "That's Chad."
Akira leans forward, his eyes narrowing as he studies the man. Then his expression shifts from concentration to disbelief. "That's Charles. One of the investors."
The same Charles who cornered Emilio after the first investor meeting, who demanded to see his Alpha.
The same Charles who voted to keep Emilio on as CEO, but only with Alpha supervision.
The same Charles who's been pouring money into this club for years. I only know of him, really, but I don’t like him any more than I like Zaden.
Emilio has been suspiciously absent all evening, mentioning earlier that he has some work to do in the office. Paperwork, contracts, the usual administrative tasks that come with running a club. But now I need him up here, need him to understand what we just discovered.
Pulling out my phone, I send him a quick text. VIP. Now. Important.
A few minutes later, Emilio emerges from his office on the main floor.
Even from this distance, I can see the exhaustion in his posture, the way he moves like every step takes effort.
The pregnancy is taking its toll, especially combined with the stress of everything else.
He climbs the stairs to the VIP section, his hand briefly touching the railing for support.
When he reaches our booth, concern and confusion flicker through his expression at a very wounded Jax sitting with us. He slides in beside me, glancing between the three of us. "What's going on?"
"How well do you know Charles?" I ask, keeping my voice low so that it doesn’t reach the other booths.
Emilio glances at the bar, spotting Charles immediately. His expression tightens. "He pours a lot of money into this place, but he wants Zaden to run everything. Or at least another Alpha. Why?"
Akira leans back in his seat, his expression darkening. "Because Jax here gave those drugs to Charles."
The color drains from Emilio's face. His hand moves instinctively to his stomach in a protective gesture. "What?"
"Tell him," Akira says to Jax, his tone making it clear this isn't a request.
Jax swallows hard, his eyes darting between all of us. "It was a cream. Just a small bottle given to Charles, not a whole shipment or anything. But it was potent enough to send an Omega into heat. Pretty instantaneous, from what he said he wanted it for. River gave it to him specifically but…"
"How did you do it?" Emilio asks, his voice strained with disgust.
Jax explains the process, how he synthesized the drug into a topical form that absorbs through the skin.
How Charles contacted him through River, said he needed something special for a business situation.
How Jax didn't ask questions because the money was good and he needed the cash.
The whole story spills out, each detail making Emilio's expression harder.
When Jax finishes, Emilio abruptly stands up, his hands clenching into fists at his sides, trembling with barely controlled rage. Without saying a word, he stomps down the steps toward the bar. I quickly follow him, unsure of what Emilio is going to try and do.
Charles looks up as Emilio approaches, a smile spreading across his face. "Emilio! Good to see you. I was just thinking about stopping by your office."
"We need to talk," Emilio says, his voice cold. "My office. Now."
The smile falters slightly, but Charles nods. "Of course. Is everything alright?"
"Move," Emilio orders, already heading toward his office.
Something about the situation makes alarm bells ring in my head.
Emilio's angry, rightfully so, but confronting Charles alone seems like a bad idea.
Especially given what Charles tried to do to him.
I head toward the office as well, quickening my steps since they got a headstart on me.
Akira stays with Jax, probably to make sure the Alpha doesn't try to run now that he's identified the buyer.
Emilio and Charles enter the office, and I slip in just behind them before the door closes completely. Neither of them notices me at first, too focused on each other.
"I know what you did," Emilio says, his voice shaking. "You ordered those drugs. You drugged me."
Charles's expression shifts from confused to calculating. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Bullshit," Emilio spits. "Jax identified you. He told us everything. You wanted me drugged, wanted me to look incompetent in front of the other investors."
Charles's jaw tightens, and for a moment I think he might deny it again.
But then his expression hardens into something cold and mean.
"So what if I did? You're an Omega, Emilio.
A pregnant Omega trying to run a business you have no right to.
Your parents made a mistake leaving this club to you instead of Zaden. "
"Get out," Emilio says, his voice dropping dangerously low. "Get out of my club and don't come back."
"I don't think so," Charles says, stepping closer. "I've invested too much money in this place to let some Omega destroy it. You're going to sell me your shares, or I'm going to make your life a living hell."
"I'm not selling you shit," Emilio growls.
Charles's hand shoots out, grabbing Emilio by the throat. The movement is so fast, so unexpected, that Emilio doesn't have time to react. His eyes go wide, his hands coming up to claw at Charles's grip as the older Alpha squeezes.
Rage explodes through me and I cross the office in two strides before grabbing Charles by the shoulder, ripping him away from Emilio. The Alpha stumbles back, surprised, and I use the momentum to slam my fist into his face. Blood spurts from his nose, and he drops to his knees.
"You don't fucking touch him," I snarl, hitting him again.
Emilio coughs violently, his hands at his throat. Red marks are already forming where Charles' fingers dug in, and the sight makes me want to kill the bastard. But Emilio needs me more than I need revenge right now. I force myself to stop hitting Charles and turn to Emilio.
He's trembling, his whole body shaking. When I reach for him, he flinches before recognizing me. Then he curls up into a ball on the floor, his arms wrapped around his knees, the poor Omega in shock. His breathing comes in short, panicked gasps, his eyes going unfocused.
"It's okay," I murmur, kneeling beside him. "You're safe. I've got you." Pulling out my phone, I call Otto. He answers on the first ring. "We need you in Emilio's office. Now. And call security to remove Charles."
"On my way," Otto says without asking questions.
I'm about to call a doctor when Emilio weakly grabs my wrist. "I just need out of here, okay? Just get me out of here."
"Alright," I agree immediately. "Can you stand?"
Emilio nods, but when he tries to get up his legs don't cooperate.
I slip my arm around his waist and lift him, supporting most of his weight.
He leans heavily against me, his face pressed into my shoulder.
Charles is still on the floor, groaning and holding his bloody nose.
Part of me wants to kick him a few more times, but getting Emilio somewhere safe is more important.
Otto arrives with two security guards. He takes in the scene, his expression darkening when he sees the marks on Emilio's throat. "What happened?"
"Charles attacked him," I say shortly. "Get him out of here and ban him from the club. We'll deal with the legal shit later."
Otto nods, gesturing for the guards to handle Charles. They haul the Alpha to his feet, and he has the audacity to protest. "You can't do this! I'm an investor!"
"Attacking the owner changes things. You're banned," Otto says coldly. "And if you set foot in this club again, I'll have you arrested for assault."
I don't wait to hear Charles's response. I help Emilio out of the office and toward the back stairs that lead to his apartment. Each step is a struggle, Emilio's body still shaking with aftershocks. By the time we reach his door, I'm practically carrying him.
Inside his apartment, I guide him to the bedroom.
He doesn't protest, doesn't try to maintain his usual independence.
Just lets me help him onto the bed before curling up into a ball again.
The sight breaks something in my chest. Emilio is always so strong, so defiant.
Seeing him like this, small and scared and vulnerable, makes the protective instincts roar to life.
I lie down beside him and pull him against my chest. He resists for a moment before melting into me, his face pressed against my neck.
His breathing is still too fast, still too shallow.
But slowly, gradually, it starts to even out.
My purr starts up automatically, the sound meant to soothe and comfort.
Emilio's trembling eases slightly, his body relaxing incrementally.
"I should have stopped him sooner," I murmur into his hair. "I'm sorry."
Emilio doesn't respond, just presses closer. His hand fists in my shirt, holding on like I'm the only solid thing in his world. And maybe right now, I am.
A little while later, the bedroom door opens. I look up to see Akira shedding his clothes as he crosses the room. He's down to his boxer briefs when he climbs onto the bed behind Emilio, his chest pressing against Emilio's back. The three of us form a cocoon, Emilio sandwiched between us.
"You needed him too, didn't you?" I ask quietly.
Akira's jaw clenches. "It was either this or ripping Charles' head off. The bond was screaming at me to get to him, to make sure he was okay."
He presses a kiss to the back of Emilio's head, the Omega letting out a small relieved sigh, his body finally fully relaxing between us. The tension that's been holding him rigid drains away, replaced by exhaustion.
"I don't like how that felt," I admit, my voice rough. "Watching Charles manhandle Emilio. Seeing those marks on his throat. It made me want to kill him."
"Same," Akira says quietly. "The Alpha in me wanted blood. Still wants it, actually. But this is more important."
Emilio is more important. More important than revenge, more important than our business, more important than anything else.
The realization settles in my chest that this isn't just attraction anymore.
This isn't just a bond forming. This is something deeper, something that terrifies and excites me in equal measure.
"We need to talk about this," I say. "About what we are. What we're becoming."
"Not tonight," Akira says. "Let him rest. We'll figure it out tomorrow."
But I'm not sure tomorrow will be any easier.
This situation is getting more complicated by the day, the lines between fake and real blurring until I can't tell the difference anymore.
We're supposed to be pretending for the investors, playing roles for Emilio's benefit.
But lying here with him between us, feeling the bond pulse with every breath he takes, I know we're well past pretending.
Emilio shifts slightly, his hand reaching back to find Akira's. When their fingers intertwine, something in my chest eases. He needs us both. Maybe he doesn't want to admit it yet, maybe he’s still fighting against what his body and instincts are telling him. But he needs us.
And we're not going anywhere.