Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
Basement Garage, Omega Hotel
“Do you know why Mr. Sinner has gathered every Beta staff member in the basement garage?” Lashonda whispers, fiddling with her braid. “He only does this when he has something big to announce or please, tell me that all my Christmas dreams have come true at once and Mrs. Frost is dead.”
“That’s my stepmom you’re talking about,” I reply, mildly.
“Hell yeah, it is.”
I chuckle.
Lashonda is eagerly standing at the front of the crowd of the Beta staff with her arm slung around my shoulders.
Lashonda is two decades older than I am, but she still feels like a sister, rather than a mom. She has never had the chance to be a mom, since Betas who work in any Omega Hotel are not allowed to form pack bonds.
In fact, they aren’t allowed to have romantic relationships.
Lashonda loves the time that she spends with Zoe. She’s amazing with her.
Lashonda’s ebony skin is unadorned with makeup; no staff are allowed to wear so much as mascara. She is curvy, dressed in the elegant blazer and pencil skirt of a concierge.
She must have been chosen as the concierge not only because she’s sociable but also because she is the Queen of Gossip to Michah’s King.
I smirk.
You win, Icarus.
If he has managed to keep this announcement secret from our Queen of Gossip, then he deserves to come later.
If he begs.
Because having a dominant Alpha beg is my secret kink.
Well, maybe it’s not that secret to Icarus, after how much I’ve been indulging in it this year.
Gossip is the heart blood of a hotel. Luckily, most of the gossip is about the guests, which is the reason that Lashonda hasn’t caught on about Icarus and my entanglement yet.
Since virtually every Omega on the staff is in love with the Alpha General Manager who protects them, then it provides me with a good cover anyway.
“Guess what I found out today?” Lashonda leans down to whisper. “The Traditional trust fund heir who brought his pack with him on the second floor…? Kinky as fuck.”
I quirk my brow. “How’d you know?”
“Ms. Fields.” Lashonda waves at a woman in her fifties with tanned skin, a severe gray bob, and deep lines around her eyes.
She is the only Beta who is standing smartly to attention at the front of the basement.
Ms. Fields is the Head Housekeeper and my boss.
Ms. Fields waves back with a faint smile.
“You know how easily she’s bribed with Zoe cuddles to tell me about the guests’ rooms.”
“Don’t use my daughter for bribes. But also, what did Ms. Fields tell you?”
“The trust fund heir must have forgotten about housekeeping because he left out all these sex toys, including these rare kinky Beta dildos without knots, anal beads, and an entire wolf furry costume complete with muzzle.”
I blink. “Did not see that coming.”
“Poor Ms. Fields would have seen him coming if—”
“Yep, thanks for the visual. Got it.”
I glance around at the basement garage, which is lit by bright spotlights on the supercars.
It’s warmer here than inside the Omega dorms.
The echoing basement garage is the only place that is large enough to hold all the staff at once.
It is more luxurious than the staff quarters. After all, the guests’ babies — BMWs, Porsches, and Bugattis — must have somewhere comfortable and safe to sleep or their owners would worry, right?
The floor is glistening, porcelain, and the far wall is fitted with charging points and extraction systems for the fumes. The walls are painted an elegant ivory.
Michah is stretched out on the bonnet of a yellow Ferrari like he’s a model at a showroom.
I wince, when Michah casually runs his nail along the car.
Then I shrug.
Only Alphaholes drive yellow Ferraris. It’s a rule.
Chris, the tall, sweet pastry chef, lies as close to Michah as she dares. Her hair is short and brunette, and her emerald eyes are filled with such adoration, while Michah chats to her about his day, that I wonder if anyone by now hasn’t worked out how much in love they are.
They need to be careful.
But then, so do Icarus and I.
Suddenly, Lashonda sniffs my hair. “Unless your scent has changed since the last time I saw you, you have mashed banana in your hair.”
“Shit.” I pull away from her, patting at the top of my head. “Zoe ate it for lunch or more accurately, hurled it at me. Her aim has improved. She’s in her throwing stage.”
Apparently, it’s not only Alphas that she is now targeting.
Maybe I have the first future Omega shot-putter on my hands; Zoe has the strength.
Or first Omega assassin.
Right now, her Uncle Ollie is getting in some quality priceless crayon art time with her, while Icarus holds this meeting.
Unexpectedly, Lashonda looks serious. “Ms. Fields told me something else as well. We need to be more careful about Zoe. Now that she’s growing older and more independent and lively, it’s becoming harder to keep her quiet.
It’s also hard to care for her between us, even with Icarus’ amazing routines and schedules.
The problem is that your asshole stepmom insists you work full time without days off but won’t let you keep Zoe with you. ”
Anxiety crawls under my skin. “I know. Why are you saying this? The hotel has a strict no children under eleven rule. Maya made it clear to me that having a baby, in her words, bawling, stinking, or puking around the guests would be terrible for the hotel’s reputation. She told me that…”
My throat closes up. I can’t finish the sentence.
She said that if Zoe disturbed the guests, then she would sell us both to the Omega Institute to be auctioned to another pack.
Lashonda rubs my shoulder. “It’s just that drunken celebrity chef, you know, the narcissist who screams at everyone?”
“Isn’t that every celebrity chef?”
“Anyway, he went down to housekeeping when Ms. Fields was looking after Zoe, to demand extra pillows and shit, rather than calling reception. He only didn’t notice the baby because he was so pissed.”
Trembling, I wrap my arms around myself, wishing that Icarus was here.
I desperately need to be wrapped in his pheromones.
I didn’t know it but I could have been sent away yesterday. I could have lost my family and friends for good.
Lost Bird.
Lost Icarus.
Lost my Alpha.
It shocks me how hard this thought hits me.
I have been living with the feeling ever since I was rejected by the Alcotts that this hotel was no longer my permanent but only temporary home. At any moment, it could be ripped away from me.
When I was a baby, however, Dad had been happily married to the true owner of this hotel, a male Alpha, before the Alpha died of a heart attack.
Dad told me when I was a teenager that he had imagined them always raising me together here, then training whoever I matched with in the business, in order that they could hand the hotel on to us.
This is a family business, only now I spend every day terrified that I will be sent away from it forever.
When I see Icarus striding through the Betas toward the front of the garage, my shoulders slump with relief.
He looks coolly professional with his black glasses and smart suit.
No one would know that just this morning I had my hand down his pants, making him writhe like an Omega in heat.
When I blush, he catches my eye and quirks his brow at me.
I drop my gaze to his crotch just for a moment.
Then Icarus’ cheeks tint pink.
He compensates by clicking his fingers at Michah and Chris as he passes the Ferrari. “Off.”
Michah casually salutes Icarus, before jumping off the Ferrari (not before deliberately getting in a final kick). Then he holds out his hand and gently helps Chris to slip off the bonnet.
Icarus nods to the only Beta who isn’t taking advantage of this unusual break from work to catch up with friends from different departments. “Ms. Fields.”
Ms. Fields curtsies. “Mr. Sinner.”
“Silence now,” Ms. Fields calls, clapping her hands together sharply. “Pay attention to Mr. Sinner.”
Everyone falls silent, gathering around Icarus.
Lashonda and I elbow our way to the front.
Icarus clears his throat. “Thank you for all your hard work over the weekend. We’re coming up to the start of the Christmas week, however, which as you know is a crucial one here at the Omega Hotel.
It is in fact viewed by the owners as the jewel in their crown.
They expect their guests to check in for this week and enter a wonderland of sumptuous food, nests, and entertainment.
They don’t expect any problems but rather a fairytale.
It’s our job to ensure that is what they receive. ”
My chest is tight.
I’ve heard this speech before but in different ways from Maya as I grew up.
From her, however, it was a source of pride.
As a kid, I would adore seeing the decorations and excitedly finding out what performances were being put on.
I had no fucking clue, did I?
Because now I know that these staff have nothing but paper and pinecone decorations and not even a Christmas lunch to look forward to themselves. Yet they will work themselves to the point of exhaustion to make a Christmas dream come true for the guests.
The Betas’ expressions are blankly polite; it’s me who feels like my heart has been pulled bloody from my chest.
“I personally can’t wait for the Christmas performance on Monday night to kick off the week.” Icarus smiles at me. “Our Omega elves on the shelves will be the stars of the show.”
The Betas laugh, while I groan.
“Kill me now,” I mutter. “Can’t I be a reindeer like you Betas?”
“How is being a reindeer better?” Lashonda grumbles.
I narrow my eyes at Icarus, who is still chuckling.
Then a wicked idea hits me that makes me feel a lot better about my tight elf costume.
I try to look innocent. “How can there be reindeer without a Santa Claus?”
I know the moment that Icarus understands what I’m trying to do by the panic that sheets across his expression.
He takes a step back. “No. Absolutely not.”