Page 17 of The Beta's Bargain

“Oh, my god, you, like, totally know nothing, don’t you? Girl, you need to stay informed.” She shakes her head, sending brown corkscrews bouncing around her shoulders. “Right, so seven months ago, it’s rumoured that the Treyfield Pack was about to enter a bonding ceremony with the omega in question. But just before they were to go ahead and do it, he ran and disappeared.”

“Why?”

“No one knows. But he didn’t go home. He just vanished. People thought he was dead. Or they locked him up. Or any number of things. The newspapers kept showing sightings, but I have to admit, I didn’t believe it until I saw him yesterday. It reminds me of that missing Donahue heir. He took off. No one knows where. Richer than the Treyfield pack combined. If I had that kind of money, you wouldn’t see me running away. But your omega, he was pissed.”

“That’s…tragic.” I say sadly. I know where he was. Starving in the street. Following me in the dark. How did he end up so far from home?

“How so?”

“They found each other, they had happiness, and it was snatched away. It’s sad.”

Moira gives me an odd look and wheels the trolley to the next table. I pick up the cloth and wipe the forks as I place them.

“It wasn’t tragic, it was a scandal. Treyfield Pack are the pack. If you could become a part of their world, you’d never want for anything ever again. You don't run from them.”

“They might be abusive, misogynistic assholes.” I say dryly. “They could be controlling narcissistic whores.”

“Do you think so? Really?” The voice snaps with ice-cold fury.

I whirl so fast I have to catch myself on the table. Silas is standing there with a hurt look that doesn’t even pretend to look sincere on his face. If anything, I think the alpha might be amused by my statement. His black shirt is pristine and reveals a tapered waist and broad shoulders. He sweeps his hair back, and I notice he hasn’t shaved. The dark stubble just makes him look even more appealing.

“No, sir. I’m just using examples of why we should not judge a pack by their newspaper headlines. I certainly don’t know you well enough to state if that statement is factual or fiction.”

Silas stares at me with those dark eyes, and I get a horrible feeling that I shouldn’t have said that.

“I don't know whether to fire you or just walk away,” he murmurs. A laugh outside the dining room draws his gaze, and for a moment, he looks hunted. I peer at the door, but when no one comes in, he relaxes.

“She didn’t mean it, honest, sir. We were just talking about…” Moira trails off, her cheeks turning a ruddy red, and she drops her eyes.

“You were just gossiping about us in company hours.” Silas nods in understanding. “Well, let me fill in the blanks, Miss Davies. My name is Silas Leonidas Hastings. I was trained to take over this empire from the age of fourteen. I have zero workplace reports, infractions, or warnings against my name. Not a single complaint. I know how to deliver your fantasies in a one weekend long stay at my hotel. You want to watch mermaids while you dine? I can make it happen. A marathon of the hottest men in the world in your bed, I can have them here by lunch. You want a chocolate fountain and a ball gown that will turn you into a fairy tale? Let me be your fairy godfather. Whatever your price is…Miss Davies, I can afford it.”

He moves in closer and closer until we’re parted by just a tiny amount of space. We’re not talking about gossip anymore. He’s really trying to find out my price. A frisson of fear chases away the cobweb-like spell he’s placed on me.

Dylan.

Silver.

The intimate way he spoke leaves no doubt to his intention. No doubt that I’m supposed to crumble and agree to anything.

Silver needs this chance. I will not jeopardize her dreams for this alpha’s revenge or whatever it is he wants.

I peer up at him and smile tightly. “Not my fantasies, Mr Hastings. I am, after all, just a beta. If you will excuse me, I need to get back to work.”

I can feel his eyes on me the whole time I load the tables, but when I finish and turn around, he’s gone.

I’m confused by the mixture of disappointment and relief that I feel but shrug it off and chase after Moira as the waiters bring out the food.

An hour later, and I really hate this job, but I grit my teeth and hold in my irritation by pasting a bored expression on my face and counting the window panes.

We, the hired help, need to stand to the side against the wall. We need to be ready to jump to our charges' aid, cutting their potatoes or testing their food for poison. I force my eyes closed so none of that bitter thought leaks out. It’s humiliating, and I’ve never had to do anything like this before.

I’m really not a good fit for this job.

It’s for Silvie, I remind myself over and over.

Her voice has me snapping to attention. I turn my head and spot her walking into the room. She’s laughing, happier than I’ve seen her in years. She’s surrounded by handsome men. The dress she’s wearing is floaty and violet. Her hair gleams. She looks incredible, like some kind of fairy princess.

I smile wide and blink back tears. She walks past me. I know she sees me because her face darkens, and she hesitates. It’s a micro-expression so small that most people would miss it, but not me. I’ve known her too well for too long.

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