DENNY: 

Jaden Jason Corato?!

My legs buckled beneath me. My mouth dropped open. I couldn't breathe, not because I was afraid of him, but because I had just laid hands on the one person I wasn't supposed to provoke. Not yet. Not this way.

I struggled in his grip, but it was like wrestling steel. He held me with the effortlessness of someone swatting away a fly...Like I weighed no more than a feather.

"Easy, now," he murmured against my ear, sending shivers down my spine. "You're strong for an Omega, but you are no match for me."

My entire body stiffened.

"Come on, don't be too embarrassed. It is okay to be a bîtch."

What did he just say?

With a surge of adrenaline, I twisted free, slammed him against the wall, and spun to face him. He didn't resist. He just stared, amused. A smug smile curled on his lips like I was a pet throwing a tantrum.

And that face, that mockery, erupted a storm within me, and before he could smirk again, I punched him and afresh, his nose burst open.

"Bîtch?" I hissed. "You think I'm a bîtch?"

He chuckled, even while bleeding. "Why are you so pîssêd, princess? You are very palpable, I can smell your heat."

I kicked his balls, not sure if I burst them up, because Max rushed in just as his face turned frantic, indicating either pain from the kick or anger of bursting his balls.

"Denny, we need to go. Now."

"I am not done here."

"Yes, you are."

Max yanked me away. I didn't resist. But when I glanced back at Jaden freaking Jason...he was hunched over, groaning.

"Denny," he growled, straightening upright. "I didn't like that kick. You sure will pay for that."

"Go fvck yourself!"

As Max dragged me away, we passed three men in the corridor...tall, scarred, radiating menace. One look, and I knew who they were.

"They're with him," Max said under his breath.

"Thanks."

I might have learned to punch and beat up asses, but I am not sure how long I would stand up to those creeps we just passed. Maximum? A couple of minutes, and I would be knocked out. I could barely stand up to the Corato heir, let alone when they are multiplied.

And Jay, how...how did he see through me? Smell me? Sure, I didn't forget to use my suppressants, so how was it possible?

Did he know since the parking lot? So ruining my car, the restroom, the punches, and the entire encounter was a trap. Jay had let me hit him. He wanted to see what I would do. To confirm. And now, I was exposed.

Worse, I was turned on.

Night came. I couldn't sleep. I tried to drown the memory of his voice, his smirk, the way he said "bîtch" like a twisted compliment...but nothing worked.

So, I drove to the bar, the only place where I could breathe. 

Disguised beneath my wig, heels, and layered perfume, I stepped onto the stage. Becky. A goddess in a glitter dress. Ready to be my true self.

No one in the bar knew the real me. Not a single customer, not even the owner. And Thomas cared little for my identity. Great deal, I wasn't on his payroll. I didn't need the money. I only perform for freedom. For sanity.

But tonight, I was hoping for something more. I was aiming to tend to my needs, not to suppress them, but to satisfy them. To quench the fire Jay had ignited in me.

And I knew just the person, the mystery man from last week.

He had saved me from a drunk jerk. Broke bottles over skulls and shattered bones just to make sure I got out safely.

I hadn't seen his face, but I remembered his moves. The alpha energy still clung to me like my perfume.

I was singing for him tonight. And if he wanted me, I would go with him.

To hell with pretending. To hell with hiding my heat. 

*************** 

POV: JAY

This town turns me off.

Small. Cramped. No action. No thrill.

But there is little I could do. It is a punishment. One I deserved, sure. 

If I hadn't killed the Hawks heir, Williams, started a war too risky to contain, I wouldn't be confined in this shady town, on the terms to lay low.

Lying low isn't my style. I love disasters. Tornado. Earthquake sounds better. Well, I'd appreciate a volcano. 

But no, I can't pull stunts anymore. I must behave. I swore to my father to be at my best until he decided otherwise.

I don't listen to anyone. I don't have to. But my father has been in a dilemma since the mess I made in the South. So I owe him my compliance here in the West.

I returned to the West with my men. Killing Williams brought more than I was expecting. The Union and all members of the Hawks Clan are out for me. And the West, inside my father's old mansion, is the best place to hide.

For the record, I didn't regret beating the fool to his death. He had it coming. All he would have done was find himself another blonde. He shouldn't have marked my woman; he should have known I detest sharing my property the most. But what? He thinks he fvcks better than me?

He's lucky I didn't burn the entire Hawks Clan.

But now I am stuck here. Power outage, of all things. In a dusty mansion with Luo babysitting me like I'm some fragile flower.

"I need air," I told him. "Prepare the car." 

Luo wasn't happy, but he drove me out. He chose the quietest bar in town. One that wouldn't trigger whispers.

Fine. Whatever.

Until I saw her. The singer.

She took the stage, and I forgot everything. Her voice wasn't only beautiful, it was haunting. She owned that mic. Every note, every sway of her hip lit a fire in me I hadn't felt in weeks...Since I killed Liz and her lover, Williams Husks.

I grew hard in seconds, watching her sing like she was escaping her reality. 

Then, some drunk touched her. Said she sang an abominable classic. His wife had eloped with the original artiste.

Luo warned me not to make a scene.

I didn't. I swear it.

Until that pig swaggered back to his seat, smirking like he'd won something for obstructing the music.

My table caught him mid-step. Okay, okay, my leg caught him. He fell. But dâmn it, I apologised.

He didn't accept. He fought back. I just dodged, but he bled.

The singer left the stage for safety. But I'd remembered her. And the next time I saw her? She wouldn't get away. She owes me a good fvcking thank you.

JAY: 

"One thing, Jason. Just one instruction," my father barked through the phone. "Keep your dâmn head down, but no, you went soaring in a bar!"

"It wasn't my fault."

"Like it wasn't with the Hawks?" he snapped.

I am not offended; he never trusts me. He always blames me for everything.

"The Unions are going to the West next week," he said after a long pause. "We need a good camouflage."

The Unions aren't just political. They are dangerous. They are an elite, secretive council of the oldest and most powerful Alpha clans across the territory. They maintain balance, peace, and hierarchy among the ruling clans...particularly among rival Alphas.

Inside their Blood Court, they judge the misconduct of the Regions, especially Alphas. Alpha, who initiates war, disrupts the natural order... kills another Alpha. And among these, I am guilty of all.

"I can lie low."

"I can see that," he scoffed. 

My father's asking me to lie low was mostly to shield me from the Union's wrath. Their quest now is to strip me of my Alpha traits. Oh yes, they can. They can not only take it away from me, they will strip me to nothing...more like a living corpse.

And losing my trait is losing my hierarchy. My claims over the South.

"You'II go to Midville. Get busy during the day as you always wanted."

"Going to school isn't getting busy."

"I have talked with the administrators," he said, ignoring my protest. "Make sure you have a haircut."

"No," I said flatly. "I won't go."

How could I? How could I sit in a classroom with a bunch of clueless brats and play pretend?

But my protest was worthless. Days later, I found myself behind the wheel, driving, something I hadn't done since birth, and crashing into some sharp tongued bîtch on campus.

And the second I looked him in the eye, I met his secrets. Thanks to my strong senses, I uncloak him.

He burned up. Heated like a furnace. His scent screamed Omega even if he tried hiding under that false-Alpha swagger.

And when he dared kick me in the balls? That sealed it. He was mine now...my toy. Mine to torment. My entertainment in this godforsaken town.

"Find out who that bîtch is?" I told Luo as he arrived with two of my men in the restroom.

"He is Delvyster Breon," he said, tapping his phone and showing me a photo. "That is his father."

Interesting.

Delvyster Breon. The supposed Alpha heir of the Broen Clan, the same low-class name my father warned me to steer clear of. The one he said had a notorious reputation. The dominant West, I shouldn't interfere with?

Well, Daddy dearest was wrong. He's not a threat. He's a lie in Alpha's clothing.

Driving out, my brain swirled with ideas...ways to make the bîtch pay. For his punches. For pretending. For turning me on.

"Luo," I smirked, eyes gleaming. "About Denny, bring him to me. Tonight."

************

By 11 pm, I still hadn't heard from Luo.

He'd taken two men with him; it should've been easy. I even told him not to raise alarms, just bind and bring. Quiet and fast.

It made me so furious that Luo couldn't carry out a simple task. If I weren't trying to keep a low profile, I'd drag that bîtch here myself.

"He doesn't seem to be home," Luo said from his end.

"What do you mean he isn't home?!" I muttered, bolting in anger.

"No one is here, Jay."

"Stay there until someone appears."

I stormed out of the mansion and climbed into my car. I drove recklessly through the night, headed straight to the downtown bar, the same bar from last week.

No, I wasn't looking for Denny. Not now. 

I am only desperate and impatient. I needed to cool off. I needed release.

The pretty singer with the honey-silk voice that made me forget how to breathe would do just fine. And no, I won't be taking her home with me tonight. I would be taking her right on the goddamn stage if I had to.

And there she was. Under the warm stage lights, crooning into the mic like she owned the night.

The moment her gaze landed on me, I saw it, recognition. Her eyes widened, and her voice trembled just slightly. Whether from fear or desire, I didn't know.

I followed her offstage.

She slipped behind the bar, and I trailed her quickly. It wasn't clear if she was trying to escape, but I didn't care. I grabbed her and pulled her against my chest.

"I hope you're not trying to run from me, pretty dear," I said, breathing her in. "You should be happy to see me again."

"I am...so pleased to see you," she stammered, her voice slightly hoarse.

"You should be," I whispered, lifting a hand to her perfect make-up, one I would be ruining soon.

Her face...now that I saw her up close, she looked oddly familiar. Something in the shape of her mouth. Her posture. Her scent.

She oozed heat, I know for sure. But it was dimmed, coated with undetectable redolent.

She flinched as I gripped her neck lightly and sniffed her. My sense struggled to figure her out. It was both taunting and challenging.

I sniffed her again. This time, I caught it. A masculine scent hidden in a feminine fragrance.

I recognized that masculinity. That heat. That masked Omega scent.

Denny!

What the actual hell? Was I thinking about him in a moment like this? Was my côck reacting because of her...or him?

"You smell too familiar," I said, narrowing my eyes. "Tell me something, have we met before?"

"You mean...the night you saved me?"

Right. The night she sang me to life. 

I leaned in closer. "You owe me for that," I growled softly, my voice thick. "And you will repay me. Right here. Right now."

My words hadn't even landed when she broke free from my grip, surprising me with her strength. I took a step forward-

"Becky?" a voice called from the side entrance, slicing through the tension like a blade. "Come on, it is time."

I gritted my teeth, eyes flaring. I could take her in a minute. I was that boned to finish quickly, but the owner of the voice refused to leave without her.

"I should get back," she said and half-ran off, disappearing backstage.

And I...I was left there. Raging. Throbbing. And suspicious as hell.

Denny, Becky? Why am I going through the same kind of nuts for these bîtches?

I pulled out my phone, eyes still on the darkened hallway. "Luo," I barked. "Do you have him?"

"Not yet."

I slammed a fist into the wall, hard. "Don't come back without him!"

Back in the bar, Becky had vanished. The stage was empty. The music was low and forgettable. But I sat there, beer in hand, waiting.

Not for her. Not anymore. I was waiting for the real call.

And it came, my phone vibrating across the table, snapping me to attention.

"Jay," Luo's voice came through. "We've got him."

DENNY:

My breath stopped.

He was there. Sitting among the drinkers. Jaden. Jason. The guy from last week. The one who saved me.

The realisation crushed me like a falling wall. They were the same person. The one who shattered that drunk's head...the same bâstârd I punched at school.

And now, those eyes, cold, sharp, commanding, were fixed on me with the same intensity as that day. His stare pierced straight through the makeup, the wig, the fake lashes. 

He couldn't know. Could he?

There was no way. I had used Becky's strongest perfume and Denny's cloaking-cologne before coming on stage. After witnessing his insane sense of smell at school, I didn't want to risk another exposure from just anyone.

My pulse thundered beneath my skin as I stepped off stage, avoiding his gaze and darting toward the backroom. I needed to escape. I wasn't ready...not for him, not for whatever game he might want to play with Becky.

But he caught me.

I felt the pull of his presence before he even touched me.

When I turned, he was already there, too close, too composed, too dangerous.

"I hope you are not escaping from me, pretty dear," he said, his voice dark velvet, the kind that tempts and destroys. "You should be pleased to see me again."

My throat tightened. His voice was lower now, rougher. Hungrier. 

This wasn't about last week. It wasn't about saving a girl. 

This was something else.

"I...I am pleased to see you," I replied, forcing Becky's shy tone.

He hadn't come for introductions. He came to feed his needs. It was obvious Becky affected him. I affected him.

And I wanted him, too. I mean...the guy from last week.

Thankfully, the bar owner came to my rescue before his plot escalated. Jay didn't move. His brow furrowed, but he backed away as I slipped past him.

Halfway to the house, I pulled over, cleaned off my makeup, applied Denny's cologne, peeled off Becky's dress, dumped everything in the trunk of my car, and drove home.

But Jay's men were waiting. Not for Becky, I was sure of that. They were waiting for the bully who busted their boss's balls. 

They tossed me inside their car and drove.

I didn't fight. I didn't struggle. It would be useless to. Instead, I reserved my energy for their boss.

**************

TEN HOURS LATER: (FROM THE BEGINNING)

"Where is he?" 

I heard him roar in the hallway. Jay Corato. Storm of power, fury, and certainty.

The room his men had locked me in was bare. A single chair sat in the centre like a throne of interrogation. No curtains. No decor. Nothing but cold silence.

The door slammed open, and he stood...filling the frame, eyes fixed on me.

"Hello," I waved from the chair. "I heard you missed me."

He stared at me, gaze narrowing. Then a slow grin slid across his face.

"Well," he said, his fingers reaching for his buttons. "You heard correctly."

He undid his shirt, revealing hard, sculpted muscle, a display so intentional to make my breath catch.

And dâmn it, he succeeded. My eyes dropped for a second before I pulled myself together.

"Why am I here, Jaden?" I asked, voice firm despite the throb in my chest.

"I believe you know why," he said, stepping forward. That grin of his? Deadlier than ever.

Of course, I knew. I was here to pay for my sins. What I didn't know...was how he wanted the debt paid.

"How much?" I asked. "How much to fix your balls?"

He chuckled darkly. "So you do know it has to do with my balls."

His voice dropped. "But you are wrong. Money can't fix me...only you can. And you will."

My pulse flinched. God, he was infuriating. And yet, something about his words gripped deeper than fear.

I rose from the chair, jaw locked. "What do you want from me?"

He moved in, deliberate, powerful, commanding. "A lot of things," he said softly. "But let's start with this...something doesn't add up. And it is driving me insane."

My skin tingled. My heart beat faster. I already knew where this was going.

"What exactly?" I asked.

"You." He stepped closer. "I've seen you fight like an Alpha."

He took another step. "I've seen you walk, handsome, proud...like a king."

I flinched. Not because of his further step, but from the way he said handsome like it meant something.

"But I've also seen you pretty." He tilted his head, gaze fierce. "Very pretty."

I stopped breathing.

"So tell me, Denny," he said, voice low, intense. "Who are you? Because I swear, you smell like the boy who punched me into ruts...and the girl who sang me into them."

I clenched my fists. My chest rose and fell with ragged breath.

He leaned closer, grazing my ear like smoke. "That can't be a coincidence, can it?"

"I don't know what you are talking about," I said, stepping back, my voice barely holding.

"Oh, don't play dumb." He followed. "An Omega pretending to be an Alpha could easily pretend to be a woman. A singer. Becky, for instance."

"You've really gone insane."

"Have I?" his eyes narrowed like blades. "Then I will find out myself. It won't be long," he paused, voice rich with warning. "And if you're both...then you're both mine."

"And if I'm not?"

He smirked. "Then, you're still mine. Mine to torment."

"What the hell does that even mean?"

He ignored me.

Instead, he stripped his shirt to the floor, revealing a torso gleaming like a war god's. Every ridge of his abs flexed with power. The room lit like a chandelier, nearly striking me blind. 

And when he pulled out his belt, letting his trousers hang loose on his hips, I understood exactly how he meant to torment me.

I backed up, but there was nowhere to go. The wall hit my spine just as he stopped in front of me...close enough that I could smell his needs, feel the burn of his curiosity...his obsession.

He took my hand. Pressed it against his hardness.

"Feel that?" he whispered. "You wrecked me, Denny. As you. As the singer. You wrecked me both ways. And now..." His hand slid down, tracing my waist. "I will ruin you the same way."

My breath caught.

"You can't touch me," I said, voice trembling. "I am not yours."

He leaned in, mouth brushing my ear. "You are. You just don't remember it yet."

I shuddered. My stance collapsed. "Jaden..."

He kissed me. Hard. Hot.

A kiss that punished and pleased. My thoughts shattered against the weight of it. My knees almost buckled.

"Unless you tell me the truth," he whispered, breathing in my mouth. "I can stop."

His eyes searched mine, giving me a way out. But I didn't take it.

"I am not your singer."

"You are a liar," he said, smirking.

Then he spun me toward the wall, his hand flat against my chest, pinning me. 

My body sparkled.

"I will pull the truth from you," he growled.

"How?"

"By fvcking you, Omega," he said darkly, "until you admit it."

My entire body jolted. Because the truth is, I was throbbing. Hard.