Chapter 8
Ophelia
I didn't sleep. Of course, I didn't. I tossed and turned, and the moment I drifted off, the image of all four gorgeous Constantine alphas making a liar out of me had me shooting up and awake, sweaty and horny and annoyed. The bespectacled Alpha, Enzo, with his mysterious yet earth-shattering, quiet smile and piercing, direct gaze kept dominating my dreams. In them, he sat patiently on my couch, waiting for me to give in and fall to my knees.
His alpha dominance is quiet and controlled. Like I'll submit merely because he expects it.
In my dream, Asher and Sully shared me between them, their thick, muscular frames holding me up in the air, one leg in each arm, as they took turns thrusting in and out of me. Theo, angry and devastatingly sexy, his careless, knowing sneer watching his brothers punish me while he watched on, lazily stroking his cock.
I was dripping in slick, and no toy would take the edge off.
Finally, after a long shower, and putting on a thick pair of slick-wick panties, I was cranky, tired and ready for work.
I left my apartment cautiously, half expecting to find one of the brothers waiting outside my apartment door. I was surprised and, confusingly, disappointed when I found the hallway empty, save for the late afternoon noise of my neighbors. Mel's gone, and most of the kids in the building are at school.
I hurried down the stairs, pulling my hood up over my head, and slipping my sunglasses on before stopping short in front of Sully, looking totally out of place in his fancy-ass charcoal gray suit, leaning against the crumbling brick stoop.
"Uhh… hey," I say slowly. "How'd you know when I was leaving?" I narrow my eyes, wondering if it was just him.
"I didn't."
"So… how did you know… how long have you been here?"
He smirks, "Did you really think we'd just wait to hear from you? We wanted to be sure you didn't try to run off."
Turning on a heel, I scoff and walk past him, dutifully ignoring my omega's preening that he's here and waiting for me.
Sully reaches out to grasp my arm, gentle but firm. He's holding me through two layers of fabric, and there's nothing sexy or caressing about it, but still, it causes shivers to rack through my body. After the night I had, the unfulfilled dreams, I'm walking on thin ice.
"As I said last night, where would I go?" I gripe, tugging out of his hold, continuing my walk.
"Will you stop, please?"
"Can't. I'm late for work."
"You work?" He asks, surprised. It gives me pause, and I turn to face him, my eyebrows high on my forehead.
"Yes, of course I work. Who do you think pays for my lavish lifestyle?" I wave my arm back toward C-Block.
He shakes his head, "My apologies, Omega, I didn't mean to offend." I snort, wondering what it'll take to get him to drop the prim and proper act. Then again, I can picture him dominating me with it. Do be a good girl and get on your knees for me, Omega. I clear my throat, willing the image away, when he continues, "You don't have to work now, you know that, right?"
I roll my eyes but keep walking.
"Can I drive you, at least?"
Queenie's is only ten minutes from my apartment, so I don't bother saying yes. Though, in the winter, I'd totally take a ride.
He said I didn't have to work, but he didn't bark and tell me to stop walking. He and Enzo left my apartment last night when I asked them to. No one tried to force me into anything. Yet. I wait for the other shoe to drop as I glance at Sully while he follows me in his crisp suit, totally out of place.
Despite his bulk, he strolls, concern morphing into curiosity as he takes in his unfamiliar surroundings, keeping pace. But when I slip down the narrow alleyway behind the club and pause outside the back entrance, Sully's curiosity changes into something darker.
"You work here?" He asks angrily.
His disapproval makes me feel ashamed, so I straighten my shoulders and lift my chin. "So?"
"Does your employer know you're an omega?"
"Of course."
"And they let you work here?" He asks, incredulous.
One of Roxy's mates, Jess, opens the back door, alarmed when he sees us. I give an awkward thumbs up and a wave to assure him I'm okay. He apologizes for interrupting, ducking back inside.
Sully laughs, but it doesn't seem like he finds the situation funny. "Oh, I see how things are in South Loop. Of course, your employer knows. He probably loves it. Are you fucking him?"
I grit my teeth, "You know what? It's none of your fucking business how I make a living or who I'm fucking." I storm toward the door and bang, the metal sound echoing in the alleyway. Jess opens the door again. He's a bouncer, though he only works on nights Roxy's here. Sometimes they work the back rooms together. I'm pretty sure they make more than a month's rent on those nights.
"Ophelia," Sully growls, the sound causing shivers to run down my spine.
I want to hear him fed up and punishing me with an open palm on my ass. I shake the image away before ducking beneath Jess's meaty arm and heading to the changing room, leaving a sputtering, enraged Sully in my wake.
I find my locker, slipping on my fishnet tights, black bootie shorts and ballet flats. Most girls wear heels, and I'm already exceptionally short, even for an omega, but no one wants to see me wearing high heels. I'm just pushing my bustier up, reclaiming my near non-existent cleavage, when Roxy, glistening from practicing on stage, sneaks up behind me.
"Spill it."
I scrunch my face and turn. Anyone would feel inadequate next to Roxy. She's pretty tall for an omega. She also has the perfect shape, the kind the OFA tries to engineer through diet and exercise with all their graduates. Perfectly proportioned, with a slim hourglass figure. On heels, and especially on stage when she's dancing, she's stunning.
I'm not jealous. Sure, I wish my ass and legs were a little smaller and less curvy and that maybe I filled out my bra like some of the other girls, but I love my body.
I wonder what Sully would think of me in my work clothes. I wonder what he'd think of her.
She slaps my hand away when I start nervously adjusting my top, thinking of Sully and the guys in here and seeing all these gorgeous women and finding me lacking—and fuck them for thinking that anyway, I don't even want them to want me! And around and around I go. I think I'm going insane.
Roxy adjusts the corset for me, saving me from myself. Covered in rhinestones, it's the most expensive thing I own. Black and lacy, and since my chest is on the smaller side, my nipples are nowhere near the cup lining, so it's full coverage, but I still feel sexy in it.
Like the expert she is, she adjusts my straps, spinning me in place to fix the back, whipping me back around, manhandling me to make everything fit.
"Jess told me you were hanging with an alpha, and things seemed… heated," she gossips like the information is new to me.
"He's… I don't know. Trying to court me." I think.
Roxy gasps, "Oh my god! Ophelia, that's huge! Are you letting them? Has he got you any gifts yet? Does he have a pack? You didn't try to dance for him, did you?" She winces while I duck beneath her prying gaze to put makeup on in front of the mirror.
"No, I didn't try to dance. Why would I?"
"Okay, phew, that's good." I shoot her a look, and she giggles and shrugs, like, what can you do? Taking the seat next to me, touching up her own makeup, she continues the interrogation. "So? Pack? Lone wolf?"
"He has a pack… the… Constantines…" I wince, but when she gasps dramatically, I slap my hand over her mouth. Another dancer comes in to change her outfit. It's still early in the afternoon, and the girls mostly use this time to practice new routines, so they change their outfits often.
"I don't want anyone to know they're coming around. Okay? Please, Roxy, promise me you won't say anything."
"Of course, I won't. But if they're courting you and coming around here, I doubt it'll take long for everyone else to find out. But… they're kind of a big deal, right? The Constantine Pack is always on the cover of the Daily Rag. How did you even meet?"
On the bridge where my family died. "It was… at the catering gig last night. Anyway, don't say anything. Especially to Dante," I whisper, and she nods sagely. Dante Pack is my family, and they would have a lot to say if Constantine starts coming around here. They have just as much against the OFA, and therefore, OFA sponsors, as I do. She's right, though. I doubt it will take long for everyone to find out.
I finish getting ready before making my way out front. The bar is slow and likely won't pick up for another hour or two, but I make the rounds, refilling and serving drinks, collecting tips as I go. Afternoons are usually pretty quiet, so I relax as I work, checking in with friends and hanging with Cass, Red's packmate in the back office, helping him with monotonous busy work. I avoid Roxy and Jess most of the night, but each time I see them together, they're conspiring, giving me knowing glances. I wonder how long it took before she told Jess who Sully was.
"Do you know who that is?" Chandra, one of the dancers, whispers from behind a thick, heavy velvet drape as she peers onto the main floor.
"That is Asher freakin' Constantine!" Franky gasps beside her.
My steps abruptly stop in the hallway behind the girls, who are gossiping at the hall's entrance.
"Can we just appreciate the gravity of a Constantine being in South Loop? The Rag says their pack's worth, like, billions. I wonder what he's doing all the way out here," Chandra hums. "Maybe he's interested in a private dance?"
Chandra winks at Franky, slipping out of the hall onto the main floor. Anxiety ignites in my gut, and I tread after her. My omega is a jealous green-eyed monster. I'm nothing like Chandra. She's tall, beautiful, much more the image of all the other betas and omegas the Constantines are always pictured with—minus the stripper clothing.
The reminder that they're seen with so many other women slows my steps. The thought of any of the Constantine alphas with another sends a hot burning poker through my brain. It's a violent feeling, and only when Franky's gentle hand resting on my arm pulls my attention up do I realize I'm standing, staring at nothing, in the middle of Queenie's. She eyes me suspiciously, but I tell her I'm okay, brushing it off and heading back behind the bar, scanning the floor, looking for Asher. He must be here; Chandra said she saw him. And they know where I work now. Roxy was right, that didn't take long.
If only Chandra knew why he was really here, even if the truth is incomprehensible. I mean, me, Ophelia from South Loop, orphan, broke ass bitch, best friends with the Dante Pack of C-Street, is a scent-match to one of the wealthiest packs in the country, certainly in our city. Makes no sense.
It takes Herculean effort not to keep searching the room for Asher, but when I finally stack my tray with drink orders and glance up, there he is, and I nearly melt on the spot.
He notices my reaction and lights up with unadulterated joy, and it supersedes all the hurt and resentment from last night. Hurrying toward me, he ignores my flattened palms on the bar between us, ducking underneath like he belongs here, and wraps me up in his arms. It's futile to resist, I melt against him, and we breathe each other in before he starts coughing.
"Damn, that scent-blocker is strong. You smell terrible," he laughs, and it's so sweet, it makes me giggle like a damn school girl.
"That's the point."
He smirks. "Are you almost done?"
"Oh. Umm…" I look up and find Roxy's eyes dancing in delight, watching us. "I uh… I'm still working. I'll be here pretty late, actually."
Asher smiles tightly. His voice is thick when he asks, "So… do you dance, or…?"
"Or. Definitely or. Not that there's anything wrong with stripping!" I rush to say.
"No, not at all," he agrees, a little too pleased with my answer.
"But I can't dance. I can barely carry drinks."
He chuckles like I'm adorable, and I love it. Every warm touch, the glint in his eyes. His thick chocolate brown hair curls around his ears, and though he's nearly as tall and stacked as Sully, there's something really disarming about Asher. He's a teddy bear. Damn, he's making this hard. I clear my throat, trying to shake out of whatever hypnotized state the Constantine men have got me in. Yesterday, literally just yesterday, I was running away from them.
Chandra leans against the bar, "Ophelia, I've got a private dance request at table ten in the booth. Can you bring a bottle of Black Label and three glasses?" She eyes us bitterly, and I nod, pushing Asher back.
I tell him to move to the other side of the bar. Reluctantly, he goes, but not far. Asher orders a beer, then attempts to relax in his button-up work shirt, tailored gray slacks, and shiny black shoes; he's the epitome of a good catch in a place like this.
I load up the tray with drinks and make the rounds, feeling Asher's eyes on me the entire way. The club's lighting is dim, and the crowd starts to fill in as it gets later into the night. The music gets louder, and the vibe slowly changes. It's not subtle, either. The dancers, who take advantage of slow afternoons to practice, begin their real routines, something decidedly more erotic.
I suddenly appreciate Roxy's alphas for a whole new reason. I try to catch Asher's eyes wandering, but they never do. Each time I look up, he's burning heat and desire into me, not acknowledging he's surrounded by beautiful, mostly naked women and men.
When I finish a few rounds of deliveries, I find a smiling Asher waiting patiently, eyes lighting up the moment he realizes I'm heading toward him. I slow, taking him in. Asher's kind eyes, so warm and inviting, and wide, soft lips unabashedly spreading into a big smile, make him look less like a boardroom billionaire and more like the boy next door. He's gorgeous, but his confidence and the look of utter devotion on his face blooms a kernel of excitement deep inside me.
His kind, sweet demeanor takes my breath away, and at this moment, I can't for the life of me remember why I ran off that first time we met. Why didn't I chase him down?
Oh, I remember now. Because he barked at me and nearly killed me. Because his pack continued courting omegas even after he found his scent-match. They were pictured in the newspaper almost immediately after that night on the bridge, so he couldn't have been pining for me that hard or for that long. Maybe he didn't feel the pull the same way I did. Maybe he didn't ache and burn and cry for days afterward at the loss of us.
I've been through exactly one full heat and went through it with only a toy for company. It had a battery-operated inflatable knot and barely scratched the surface of my need. It was the worst kind of pain. I was hollow inside, lonely, burning with a need I couldn't sate. I've never experienced anything so physically painful in my life. Not until that night on the bridge. Knowing my scent-match was out there and denying it, watching them court other omegas. That was a pain nothing could compare to.
And besides, I could never trust a high-society alpha after what the Olcenes did to Alma. I'll never be anyone's obedient little omega.
That puts a little more fire in my step as I reach him. His light dims when I ask him to leave so I can work without him distracting me, but he assures me he'll be back at closing to walk me home.
I'm sad to see him go, but I can breathe again. Eventually, when the bar slows, I cash out, change out of my server outfit, grab my purse, and head out back. Since he's waiting patiently in the alleyway, I lead Asher Constantine into South Loop, a place he really doesn't belong.