Chapter 14
Vincent
The rest of the day was mostly uneventful. We moved from the office to the living room where I put on a newer movie I hadn’t yet taken the time to see. I have never seen the point in sitting and watching some mindless thing when there’s always so much to do.
But, I didn’t feel the need to work as Charles sat on the couch, knees pulled up so his legs were beside him. His eyes were glued to the TV unless I moved. Then he was alert to see if I needed or wanted a single thing.
I was torn on how to get him to see that he didn’t need to cater to my every want and desire, yet that’s exactly what I wanted. I wanted him to serve me while I doted and spoiled him with whatever he wanted. Not to show off my wealth, but to show him that he deserved it.
The ringing of my cell phone caused me to jump, startled. Glancing at the caller ID, I let out a groan.
Not even a full twenty-four hours and Lockswell House was already calling.
“Vincent Harris speaking,” I answered, my voice clipped.
For any other call, I’d have turned the TV down a bit, but there had been no information in the papers about check-in calls, unless it was after the agreed time limit. Which wasn’t even close to that yet.
“Good afternoon, Alpha Harris. This is Alpha Merrick Vale, owner and operator of Lockswell House and Boarding.” His voice was smooth, practiced and clinical.
There was a pause, the faint sound of keys clicking in the background.
“I’ve received a request from a client interested in renting the Omega currently in your care.
Would it be possible to return him by tomorrow morning?
Naturally, we’d refund the unused portion of your payment.
Or, if preferred, we can offer a replacement Omega for the remainder of your term. ”
I didn’t hesitate answering as rage began to boil under my skin. “That won’t be possible,” I said, voice even. “The Omega is staying with me for the full duration.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Charles shift. His body went still, too still with his shoulders drawn tight, breath held. He didn’t speak. But I felt the question in him. And I made sure my tone left no room for doubt.
“He’s not available,” I added. “To anyone while he’s in my care.”
Then Merrick’s voice returned, smooth as ever, as though he never got told no. “I understand your preference, Alpha Harris,” he said. “But you must realize that this particular Omega was flagged as high-demand. The client in question is offering triple the standard rate.”
I didn’t respond. Not yet. He continued, undeterred.
“It’s not personal, of course. Just business. We have protocols in place for reassignment. You’ve had him for several days—surely that’s sufficient for your purposes.”
I glanced down. Charls hadn’t moved, but his body was tight.
I turned away from him, voice low and deliberate. “I didn’t take him for a transaction, Alpha Vale.”
Another pause. Then Merrick’s tone sharpened, just slightly. “You signed a temporary care contract. That makes him property of Lockswell House until the term expires. We’re simply offering a more profitable arrangement.” Profitable for only him.
I let the silence stretch. Then: “He’s not going anywhere.”
Merrick exhaled through his nose. “You’re making this unnecessarily complicated.”
“I’m making it clear.” I ended the call. No pleasantries. No room for negotiation. When I turned back, Charlie was watching with wide, guarded eyes. But beneath the tension, something else flickered. Not fear. Not confusion. Something closer to belief.
I had to take a deep breath, centering myself, before I focused on Charles.
He sat there, stiffly, eyes downcast and legs over the edge of the couch.
Formal, almost, like a single moment was enough to put him back into the mindset of a slave.
A mindset that would, and is, the most challenging to reset.
“That was Master Merrick Vale,” I started off slowly, watching for any reaction the Omega beside me would give.
“He…I’ve met him.” No other explanation, but wasn’t surprised.
“Apparently, there’s a client that is demanding your time and Alpha Vale wants you to be returned.”
Charlie’s breath hitched. I didn’t soften the words. I didn’t hide them. Because he deserved the truth.
“I’m not returning you early, sweetheart.” The nickname came out without me thinking it over. “You’re mine until the time I agreed on arrives.”
Charles open and closed his mouth, like he wanted to say something but was at a loss for words. Finally, he dropped his eyes, defeat falling heavy on his shoulders. “Did he say which client?”
“No.” Nor did it matter. Charles was mine for the week, and I wasn’t going to give him up.
I was enjoying his company, surprisingly.
“You aren’t a transaction to me.” I lowered my voice, hoping he understood how true the words were.
I never saw anyone as property to be traded back and forth.
“it’s not your fault for being born as an Omega, let alone to an Alpha that didn’t want to raise you himself. ”
“My mother was the Alpha,” he said quietly, eyes fixed on the floor. The words came out flat, but his face had gone pale, like saying it aloud cost him something.
“Rare,” I said. “But not impossible.” Rare that an Alpha female willing gave up her child. They tended to be nurturing and wanted to keep their kids, no matter what their blood test results.
Still, I knew what he meant. In a world built on hierarchy, an Omega born to an Alpha wasn’t just unusual, it was inconvenient. And unfair.
The way Omegas were treated had never sat right with me. But laws didn’t bend just because they were cruel.
“I’ll have to go back when the contract ends,” he added, voice barely above a whisper.
“Yes.” I said it because it was true. Pretending otherwise would only make it harder. But the thought of handing him back already hurt more than I expected. “We have time,” I said. “Let’s use it well.”
Even as I spoke, I couldn’t shake the unease. Alpha Vale had power. Influence. If he wanted Charlie back early, I wasn’t sure I’d have a choice. But I wasn’t ready to let go. Not yet.
“We’ll figure it out,” I said, forcing my voice to stay steady. “For now, let’s eat. The stew smells incredible.”
The scent had filled the house all afternoon, rich and warm, like something that belonged to a life I wasn’t sure I deserved. But I wanted it. Even if it was temporary.
“Go wash up and use the bathroom.” Almost instantly, he was up and off the couch. He made no sounds as he went up the stairs bare foot, as though making a sound, any little slip of sound at all, would cause me to punish him.
The stew had simmered all afternoon, filling the house with warmth I hadn’t expected to crave.
I ladled it into two bowls, careful not to spill.
By the time I set one bowl on the table, Charles was sliding into the seat, hands in his lap.
I had placed it close enough to take, far enough to leave untouched.
Then I placed the spoon next to it and turned to my seat across from him. I didn’t say anything. Just started eating. No commands. No expectations.
I let him choose.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw his fingers hover near the bowl. He touched the ceramic like it might bite. Then slowly, he picked up the spoon and took a bite.
No reaction at first. Then a second bite. Slower. Measured.
I didn’t look directly at him, but I watched the way his shoulders eased, just slightly.
He was tasting comfort. And I wondered how long it had been since food had felt like anything but survival or a notch in his schedule.
I kept eating, letting the silence stretch. Because sometimes, the most generous thing I could offer him wasn’t words.
“This is really good, Charles. Thank you for making it.” I spoke in between bites, keeping an eye on the Omega for any type of reaction.
Adrian and Moore often made food, dropping off left overs for me, but that wasn’t anything near warm, homey type of food that had been cooking all day. Plus, Charles really was a great cook.
“Thank you, Sir. I’m on kitchen duty often, and have learned how to make nearly anything an Alpha could possibly want.” Yet another automatic response.
“Do you enjoy cooking?” I lifted my eyes to him, wanting to know the truth. Thankfully, he seemed to answer truthfully.
“It’s okay when there’s someone who will enjoy it. The Omegas at the house only eat because we are all required to, and with certain serving sizes.”
“To keep you fit and likeable for Alphas,” I assumed.
Charles nodded and took another bite, chewing slowly. “It’s part of our training,” he said, voice flat. “To stay fit. Slim. We’re not desirable if we look like whales.”
The words were rehearsed. Not cruel but conditioned.
I watched him eat, noting the sharpness of his collarbones, the way his wrists looked too narrow for the weight of his own hands. He wasn’t unhealthy. But he was underfed. And I doubted anyone at Lockswell would’ve noticed unless it affected his obedience.
I didn’t respond right away. Didn’t correct him. He was speaking and I wouldn’t take that for granted. I considered asking more, pressing gently, guiding the conversation deeper.
But I knew the risk. Push too hard, and he’d retreat. Back into that quiet shell. Back into the version of himself they trained him to be—skittish, mechanical, careful.
I didn’t want that. I wanted the real Charles. The one beneath the conditioning. The one who flinched less when spoken to. The one who chose his own seat, his own spoon, his own silence.
I could wait. Because seeing him unfold, slowly, and deliberately, was worth more than any answer he could give me now.
The rest of dinner was quiet, Charles not saying much more as he finished up the last bits in the bowl. I debated on seconds, the stew too good to not eat more, but decided against it. There’d be enough left over for days, and I’d happily enjoy that.
Before I could clean up the table, Charles was up and taking my bowl along with his own. I almost told him to leave them, to let me take care of it all, but thought otherwise after a second.
Charles did better with tasks, feeling needed and seen in a quiet sort of way. So, I let him go, watching as he moved about the kitchen as though he lived here for years.
The only other Omega that had made themselves at home like that was Adrian. Not because he had to, but because he enjoyed cleaning up after Alphas. That Omega enjoyed seeing things taken care of, all the while he chatted about everything.
Charles wasn’t like that. He moved in the silence, as though he were one with it.
He moved from one spot to another, as though he were weightless.
His movements were smooth, as though he’d been taught how to move with any sort of task.
It was the same way he kneeled, or obeyed any of my commands. Smooth and without second guessing.
Sir?” Charles’s voice was soft and uncertain. He tilted his head slightly, watching me like he was waiting for something I hadn’t decided to say.
I knew he had questions, just like he knew I had some, too. But whether I’d ask them, that was another matter.
“Is there anything you need from me?” Not obedience. Not routine. He meant something else.
Instead of answering, I stood. Pushed in my chair, then walked toward him.
It had been a long day. The shadows beneath his eyes told me more than words could. He looked worn thin—not just physically, but in the way people do when they’ve been holding themselves together too tightly for too long.
“No,” I said, voice even.
Then I reached out and took his hand in mine. He didn’t pull away, but he didn’t lean in either. Just stayed still like he was trying to decide if the touch was safe.
I didn’t press. Didn’t tighten my grip. Just held it. Because sometimes, the most important answer wasn’t spoken.
It was offered—quietly, gently, without demand
“You may go to bed, Charles. Or you can keep me company while I look over emails.” Work would never take a break, and after today, looking at emails may be the one thing to tire me out enough to sleep.
His eyes bounced between mine, looking for something he wouldn’t find.
“If…it’s okay. I’d like to go to bed.”
“That’s perfectly fine, sweetheart. If I need anything, I’ll find you.”