Chapter 3
Revea
It’s been two days since the alpha incident.
That whole evening was spent gathering police reports from staff and clients. I offered to reschedule appointments for those affected. A few accepted, some politely declined.
I get it.
Why would you risk coming back here when there were other, safer salons in the area?
Yesterday, even more clients cancelled. Some didn’t even bother to call. The footage of police cars and a handcuffed alpha being dragged out of my salon doesn’t provide the best optics. Different angles of the same thing have been shared all over, some even tagging the salon’s page.
I tried not to read the comments, but I found myself doing just that yesterday morning after a cancellation.
This is what happens when omegas try to run a business *eye roll emoji*
I hope everyone is okay. That’s so scary!
Name and shame! That alpha should be in prison!
Fucking alphas ruin everything #antipack #alphaassholes
I heard the omega owner knocked him out *nail painting emoji*
LOL fake news!!!
Receipts? I’ll believe that when I see it.
I ended up turning my phone off after that.
Now it’s 7 AM the next day. I’ve just opened up the salon, and I’m feeling anxious.
Mainly because Rue called last night to say someone from the firm is coming today.
Serena refused to take time off after the alpha attack, and now she’ll be arriving at work to find another alpha. How will she react?
Trauma isn’t a competition, but Serena has had a tough life when it comes to alphas. And it isn’t just her. Other staff members have suffered too. They were relieved to find a workplace focused on omegas without a single alpha in sight.
Am I about to let them all down?
I told them in the team meeting yesterday afternoon that I was looking for security, that it would be an alpha. They all seemed okay with it. Maybe even a little relieved.
But now it’s happening.
I try to keep my mind busy, settling at my desk, shaking my mouse until the screen comes alive, and there it is.
My five-year plan.
My meticulously detailed spreadsheet that tracks and dates every aspect of my professional life. The bank said I needed one before they would even consider giving me a loan. Now I use it every day.
Every decision I make goes through this spreadsheet first.
I sigh, clicking onto the expenses tab. I drag the little bit of profit I’ve made into the column labelled Unforeseen Costs and add Security in brackets.
My profit margin resets to zero.
I chew my cheek, trying to bite back my annoyance because there’s no one to be angry at but myself.
I didn’t plan for this.
It’s my fault.
At least my house is bringing in some money.
Ping.
A booking notification flashes across my laptop screen. Thankfully, the police footage seems to be working a little in my favour today. The last few seats for tomorrow’s training session are booked, and I’ve had several new requests for hair consultations.
I’m replying to one of the requests when the light flashes above my office door, indicating someone has pressed the comms button outside.
I look down through the glass walls of my office to the reception area below and the salon entrance beyond it. From this angle, all I can see are black boots.
A man’s black boots.
This must be my security.
With a sigh, I exit my office, head down the stairs, and towards the revolving doors.
The guy’s back is facing me, and I think he’s on the phone. So I tap lightly on the glass with my sharp nails.
When he turns, I’m hit with a large, bright smile… and my omega is suddenly wide awake.
Alpha.
Yes, that’s an alpha. Well done. An alpha with a ridiculous smile, which only widens when I don’t move at all, my fingers frozen on the glass.
He frowns, nodding at the door that I still haven’t opened.
I shake myself, pressing the button. The soft buzz hums into the silence as the revolving doors fill with de-scenting mist, and he steps inside.
They turn, and he enters.
For fuck’s sake.
I hate my brother.
Seeing this man through the tinted glass was enough to know he’s attractive. One of those guys you’d see walking down the street and try to catch a second glance at.
But now he’s right there, with nothing between us, and he is gorgeous.
And so damn alpha.
Wearing a tight, black t-shirt covered by a padded vest embroidered with ‘Nexus Security’ in white thread.
But that doesn’t hide his muscular form, not one bit, nor does it hide the smooth, tanned skin of his bulging forearms. The kind of build that makes people move out of the way without thinking.
When I make it to his face, I catch dark hair cropped short, the same brutally neat style my brothers and dads have always worn. Military. Definitely military.
Which makes the bright, cocky smile he throws me even more surprising—all white teeth, sharp canines, and smug confidence.
“Luciano Vale, at your service, ma’am.”
And his voice.
The soft Spanish lilt to his name does something to my stomach. My omega is practically on her back, rolling.
“Revea,” I murmur, my voice way too quiet for me.
I swallow, trying not to get distracted by those deep brown eyes, the way they hold a glint of amber in the morning sun.
“My brother said you were coming,” I say. Then mentally berate myself for making such a pointless comment.
“Yeah. Rue’s a great guy, said I’d help him out,” he says, eyes darting over my face before taking in the reception area. “He said you built all this from the ground up.”
When his gaze lands back on me, I nod.
He bites his lip and copies my nod. “Impressive.”
Right, that’s enough of being tongue-tied by this attractive alpha and his big muscles and Spanish accent.
I clear my throat, straightening my spine as I gesture to the waiting area and the sofas. “We have a few things to discuss. Sit.”
I don’t wait for him, walking past and sitting on one of the sofas, assuming he’ll take the one opposite. Instead, he sits on the coffee table, leaving him slightly higher than me and closer than I’d like.
Typical alpha. I almost roll my eyes.
“I’ll apologise now,” I start.
He frowns. “For?”
“The bitch I’m about to be.”