Chapter 30
ANITA
This is the day of Reed’s big event just outside of town, and I’m ready.
I thought I might be nervous, sitting here in Slater’s truck as we pull into the large parking lot, but hell no. I’m not anxious at all.
I’m furious. Focused. Determined. I’m ready to capture footage of the absolute crap Reed spews, the toxic garbage he really tells people at his events, and expose him for the scammer and manipulator he is.
The brainwashing he does to vulnerable men who are just looking for guidance, for a place to belong.
This feels so right, like it’s the path I should have started on from the very beginning. But when I think back, if I hadn’t investigated Wilde Charters first, then I would never have met my scent matches—these four Alphas who are becoming my entire world more and more each day.
Our bonds are so tangled and tight now that just being away from them for too long has me physically aching to seek them out, and they do the same to me, always finding excuses to be in the same room, to touch me, to check on me.
I love their attention, crave it like oxygen.
But focus. Yes. I’ve got an asshole to get intel on today, and then he’s getting dragged through the fucking mud publicly.
It’s early morning in front of the convention center, a huge modern building with glass walls and sleek architecture. The parking lot is already filling up with cars.
Slater parks and turns to me, his gaze serious. “Keep your phone on silent and with you at all times. Stay in touch with us. Text updates when you can.”
“Of course. I love how much you worry about me.”
“You have no idea how much,” he says, drawing me in for a kiss that’s deep and possessive and makes my toes curl. When he pulls back, his hand cups my face. “And don’t do anything risky to get caught. Play it safe, okay? Get your footage and get out. I’ll pick you up whenever you’re ready.”
He kisses me again, even more passionately this time, and I find myself wondering if I’d be better off spending my day in his car, climbing over the center console into his lap and seeing how long I can kiss him before we fog up all the windows.
Sounds significantly more entertaining than spending hours watching Reed perform. But I’m also eager to destroy him, desperately eager.
So I kiss Slater a bit more, savoring the taste of his coffee and the feeling of his hands in my hair, then reluctantly pull away and slide out of the truck.
He leans over to look at me through the open door. “Remember, little Omega, you’re brilliant, you’re brave, and you’re going to ruin this asshole’s entire career today. I’m so proud of you. And I can’t wait for you to stop wearing this male disguise, as it’s very distracting when I kiss you.”
I laugh and blow him kisses before I shut the door, adjusting my Ash getup—wig secure, facial hair in place, binder tight, baggy clothes hiding my shape.
I head toward the convention center stairs, joining the flow of men moving toward the entrance. Most of them appear normal. Everyday guys in jeans and button-ups, some in business casual attire, ranging from early twenties to late fifties.
They’re not monsters. They’re just lost, searching for answers in all the wrong places.
The building is impressive up close, all soaring glass and polished stone. There are already long lines forming at the main doors where security is checking tickets.
I bypass them and head to a side entrance marked Staff Only, where a large security guard is stationed.
“I’m here as one of Reed’s social media team,” I explain in my deepest Ash voice, showing him my phone with the confirmation email Reed sent after our catch-up.
He speaks into his radio, gets confirmation, and waves me through. “Straight ahead, through those doors.”
The auditorium is absolutely enormous and can easily seat thousands of people.
The lights are dimmed except for the stage area, where people are rushing around frantically.
Technicians adjusting massive lighting rigs, sound crew doing mic checks, and there’s someone with a headset and clipboard barking instructions.
I head down the center aisle toward the stage, and that’s when I spot Reed standing near the front in a pristine white suit with a black silk shirt underneath, looking like he thinks he’s some kind of messiah.
I almost gag but force a smile instead and approach.
“Ash! There you are!” He spots me immediately, his expression a mix of frazzled stress and manic energy. He’s talking fast, gesturing wildly. “We’re almost ready. This is going to be incredible. Huge. Life-changing for everyone here.”
“I’m excited to be part of it,” I lie smoothly.
“Here.” He shoves a phone into my hands, a basic smartphone with a simple black case.
“I got you a phone to use for all the photography today. It’s already set up with access to our shared cloud folder.
” He’s talking so fast I can barely keep up.
“Remember, no video. That’s absolutely not permitted at my events.
But we want lots of photos, high quality.
Capture the energy, the emotion, the transformation happening in real time. ”
“Got it, photos only—”
“You shoot and then share to the folder, and my team backstage will have instant access. They’ll be posting throughout the event. I figured it’s easier if they handle the actual posting and you focus on getting the best possible photos. Can you handle that?”
“Oh, but I’m really good at social media and content creation, not just photos, and I thought—”
“That’s all I need you to focus on!” His voice rises sharply, cutting me off. “Can you do that, Ash? Or did I make a mistake bringing you on?”
I force myself to nod. “Of course. I’ll be ready.” Though, I’m annoyed, as I really wanted access to his social media to take it apart.
“Good. You’re learning.” He pats my shoulder hard enough that it actually hurts. “See? You’re already improving. Taking direction like a real man.”
I grind my teeth so hard I’m worried I’ll crack a molar, but I smile instead. Even more motivated now to get as much damning footage as possible.
I accept the phone, noting that it has no password and minimal apps installed. That’s fine. I also have my own phone in my pocket for what I actually need.
“So exciting,” I say, looking around. “There are already people lining up outside. Hundreds of them.”
“Of course there are.” Reed’s chest puffs out with pride. “These men are desperate for guidance. Society has made them weak and lost, confused about their place in the world. They need someone to show them the truth. You’ll see today how much you’ll gain from my talk.”
He claps me hard on the shoulder again, then gestures for me to follow him. “Backstage is for staff time-out. We have refreshments, and you’re free to partake of them. Stay hydrated, stay focused.”
I follow him behind the stage to a hallway lined with doors. There’s a huge catering table spread with pastries, fruit, coffee, juice, and bottled water.
The hallway extends in both directions with numbered doors that I assume are dressing rooms for performers and entertainers who book this venue.
“We want exciting photos from behind the scenes too,” Reed continues, still talking rapidly. “And audience shots, people cheering, engaged, emotional. If you catch someone crying from the breakthrough they’re having, that would be amazing. Whatever you need to do to make it happen.”
He’s walking fast, and I’m hurrying behind him.
“Plus, lots of shots when I’m onstage. I have another professional photographer specifically for publicity shots of me, but yours are all for social content I’ll be using for months. Understand?”
“Yeah, I got it—”
“And, Ash?” He stops abruptly at a door marked “1001” and pushes it open to reveal what looks like a combination dressing room and office. Mirrors lined with lights, a leather couch, a desk with a laptop.
He turns to glance at me, his eyes cold. “Your job today is to just not be seen. Take all the photos, capture everything, but I don’t want you in my face. I don’t want to know you’re there. Invisible. Got it?”
“Heard you loud and clear,” I say evenly. “I’m here, but you won’t see me.”
“Good.” Then he walks inside and shuts the door with a thud that echoes down the hallway.
“What a fucking jerk,” I mutter under my breath, finally alone.
I turn to see a few people rushing around, stage crew, catering staff, but nobody’s paying any attention to me.
Being invisible is exactly how I want to be. Starting with helping myself to some of that food because I left the house without breakfast.
I grab an almond custard croissant from the table and move to the side door that leads to the auditorium. I stand there eating, staring out at the absolutely massive space.
Five thousand people are coming to hear this asshole tell them lies. I can’t believe people actually fall for his crap, but then I pause, chewing slowly, thinking about it from their perspective.
Fitting in. Finding where you belong in this world. Understanding your place and your purpose. Those things are difficult, so it’s very easy for someone charismatic and confident to convince vulnerable people of one particular path forward, even if it’s the wrong one.
I finish the croissant and brush crumbs off my hands. Time to get to work.
I spend the next hour taking photos of the stage and the auditorium like I’m supposed to, establishing my cover. I head outside and snap the growing line of men wrapping around the building, the excitement on their faces, the anticipation.
I share everything to the team folder exactly as instructed, showing that I’m here doing my job.
Then people start filing inside, and I’m there taking more photos. The auditorium fills quickly, thousands of men finding their seats, the energy building.
Some guy in an expensive suit comes out first and starts talking about confidence and self-belief and knowing your worth. Generic stuff that could apply to anyone.