Rico woke the next morning to silence. The room was empty, the sheets tangled around his legs, still faintly scented with someone else's heat. He blinked slowly, his body heavy and sore in ways he had never felt before.
He sat up, touched his skin, and froze. His fingertips brushed over raised marks, sharp stings where teeth had broken the surface. He stumbled to his feet and went to the mirror.
His reflection stole the air from his chest.
His body was covered in bites. Deep, raw, claiming marks that painted every inch of him.
Memories slammed into him. His cheeks flushed hot as he saw himself sobbing and begging, his voice broken with need, pleading for that Alpha, pleading for more, begging to be filled, to be used.
Like a whore. Like a desperate, needy omega who had no shame.
His stomach twisted, but at the same time, something inside him eased. For the first time in his life, he was sated. A deep relaxation wrapped around him, almost like a glow. He had never felt so complete.
But who was he? Who was that Alpha? Why had he been here? And what had happened to Kieran?
Questions crowded his head, but his body pulled him in another direction. His belly ached with hunger. He decided to shower, eat, and then face the storm waiting for him.
...
Kieran, on the other hand, was trapped in a storm he couldn't control.
He sat stiffly in the back of the car, fists clenched so tightly his knuckles were white. Humiliation burned him raw.
He looked down at himself and wanted to vomit. A sheer top that showed his chest, tight shorts that clung to his thighs and ass like second skin. Clothes that screamed of desperation, of a needy omega flaunting himself for attention.
He wasn't an omega. He wasn't some sugar baby begging for scraps. He was an Alpha. He might not be Dante's equal in wealth or power, but he was still an Alpha.
His pride seethed. He promised himself that once this was over, once he survived whatever game Dante was playing, he would leave this city behind.
The car pulled into Dante's company building.
The moment he stepped out, Kieran felt their stares. Hungry, mocking, curious. The shame burned hotter, but he forced himself to keep his head forward. His jaw locked, eyes closing for a moment as the driver guided him toward the elevator.
By the time they reached Dante's office, Kieran's chest ached from holding everything in. He was left alone in the sleek room, the door clicking shut behind him.
He sighed and sank into the chair opposite Dante's desk. His hands rested on his thighs, tense and restless.
What now? What else did that lunatic have in store for him today?
...
The door opened.
Dante strolled in like he owned not just the room but the air Kieran was breathing. His gaze flicked immediately to the chair.
"Who," Dante asked quietly, "permitted you to sit?"
Kieran's stomach dropped. He shot to his feet so fast the chair legs screeched against the polished floor.
Dante didn't even glance at him as he sank into his own chair. He leaned back, relaxed, then pointed to the empty space beneath the desk.
"On all fours. Here."
Kieran's spine stiffened. His mouth opened with the beginnings of refusal, but Dante's eyes sharpened.
"Do you want Rico to pay for your disobedience?"
The words cut clean through his pride.
Kieran's jaw locked. He cursed inwardly as he forced his body down, crawling into the small space beneath the desk. He settled on his hands and knees, shame burning through him.
Then came the weight. A heavy pressure pressed down between his shoulders.
Kieran gritted his teeth. That bastard. Dante was using him as a footstool.
His rage sharpened when he noticed the desk wasn't solid wood. It was glass. Transparent.
Anyone who walked in would see him.
And soon, they did.
Staff came and went, their voices polite and professional as if nothing was wrong, but their eyes always drifted under the desk. Always found him. The Alpha reduced to a piece of furniture.
Heat crawled up Kieran's neck. His whole body trembled with suppressed rage. He cursed Dante. He cursed Noah. He cursed himself for ever caring, for ever staying when he should have walked away.
By the time lunch rolled around, Kieran's chest was a cage of fury ready to explode.
The door opened again.
Noah walked in.
For a split second, everything froze. Their eyes met. Noah's widened in shock, disbelief twisting his features.
Kieran shut his eyes.
He couldn't bear to be seen like this.
Noah's voice broke the silence.
"What is he doing here?"
Dante's eyes snapped to him, sharp and cutting. "Mind your business. Why are you here?"
Noah flinched at the tone but straightened. "I… wanted to ask if you would have lunch with me."
"I'm busy," Dante said flatly, his gaze already back on the papers on his desk. "Go alone."
The dismissal was final. His tone left no room for protest.
Noah hesitated, lips parting as if to argue, but then he lowered his head.
"…Yes, Dante."
He turned and left the office without another word.
The door clicked shut, and silence filled the room again. Kieran stayed frozen beneath the desk, jaw tight, breathing hard.
Not long after, Dante ordered lunch. The scent filled the office quickly, warm and rich, and Kieran's stomach twisted painfully. He tried to ignore it, to keep quiet, to pretend he wasn't starving.
But Dante noticed. He always noticed.
"You want some?" Dante asked, voice smooth, almost mocking.
Kieran said nothing.
"You'll eat if you beg." Dante leaned forward, his smile sharp. "And you'll take it from the floor. Like a dog."
Kieran's fists clenched against the carpet. His teeth ground together. He said nothing.
Dante let out a short laugh and calmly went on eating, savoring each bite. When the last scrap was gone, he pushed the empty plate aside and went back to work, as if Kieran weren't even there.
...
Later that evening, Rico arrived at work. His supervisor pulled him aside almost immediately, face tight with unease.
"I'm sorry for letting them arrest you yesterday," the man said, sighing. "It wasn't right. But you have to admit, bringing that Kieran here caused trouble for all of us."
Rico's chest tightened. He seized the chance. "Do you know where Kieran is now?"
The supervisor lowered his voice. "Dante took him. Made him his servant." His eyes darted away. "If you're smart, you'll stay clear of him. Don't get involved, Rico. For your own good."
Rico nodded stiffly, though his stomach turned.
In the locker room, he changed into his uniform, his mind restless. Kieran had done this to himself, yes, but still, he couldn't shake the image of the proud alpha forced under Dante's command. Maybe, if he saw Noah, he could convince him to plead for Kieran's sake.
As he buttoned his shirt, his gaze caught the mirror. His eyes locked on the fading bite mark across his skin.
Heat rushed to his cheeks. He touched it lightly, the memory of last night flooding back, the hands, the voice, the way he had begged and broken apart under that mysterious alpha.
Even now, he had no idea who it was. No name. No face. Just the ghost of that overwhelming presence lingering in his body.