Page 23 of Forget

“I’ll call you tomorrow, Wren,” I tell her. “I told Dad about this, but it’s such an immense project for an eighteen-year-old.”

“Age is just a number,” Wren says with a shrug. “I’m twenty, so we’re pretty evenly matched there. We’ll have something few other people who have ever thought about doing this have.”

“What’s that?” I ask, though the thought is already beginning to form in my mind. I want to know what she thinks, so I can see if it matches.

“Experience at being an omega with the odds stacked against them who still had to figure shit out,” she says. “An organization like this doesn’t work if it’s not someone like us, and instead becomes a group of individuals who think they know better than us.”

I still feel as if something big is going to happen tonight, but this helps to heal part of my soul that’s been searching for other omegas like me. I can tell that her story is intense by the heaviness and wisdom in her hazel eyes. It doesn’t do anything to change that I believe I was meant to meet her today.

As I say goodbye, hours later, my premonition comes true, and all hell breaks loose. I really need to trust my instincts more. At least I got to use my weapons and kill a few of the infiltrating fuckers.

Never a dull moment as a mafia man’s daughter.

Chapter 5

Aisling

Seven months later

Late August

I’mannoyed at how little people think of me at the moment.

“Mr. Thorns, this property states that it’s for sale,” I remind him, standing before him. I know what he sees as he gazes at me: a barely legal omega who is fucking with things he doesn’t believe she could possibly understand.

I’m trying to keep my cool. Thankfully, my scent is still the same sweet sugar cookie smell that it always is, and isn’t currently betraying me. I don’t want the asshole to know how much he’s pissing me off, nor how much I want to stab him.

I promised my dad I wouldn’t use my weapons today unless someone was actively attacking me.

“It is, just not to you,” he says, shrugging. This is the third time today that I’ve been denied to see a property, so I can purchase it.

The Omega’s Haven fundraiser at Club Serenity a month ago was a wild success, and I have enough money to be able to buy a permanent property, to begin getting our services set up in cash.

This is an important step in being able to get staff and services for the outreach and shelter. Unfortunately, no one wants to allow me to move forward, even when I don’t disclose what it’s for.

“Why shouldn’t omegas own businesses?” I ask, changing tactics. “There are many who do, but the first step is to find a building to house such a business. Is it my age, gender, or designation that's the issue?”

“All of them!” he roars, standing as he slams his palms on the table. I’m grateful I can’t scent his anger right now, so I simply gaze dispassionately at him.

My father is scarier than he is.

“Are you done throwing a tantrum now? It’s disgraceful that an alpha who is in real estate is behaving like this,” I hiss.

My heart is pounding, and the only thing keeping my hands from shaking is sheer discipline. Mr. Thorns is a large alpha in a sharp suit, shiny shoes, and an ego the size of the Mississippi River.

I know he won’t hurt me, but everything inside of me is begging me to placate him, play the good little omega and I refuse.

My instincts tell me to show my soft underbelly to the angry alpha, and I just want to tell him to go fuck himself.

I’m doing nothing wrong except bucking against a society who is forgetting about the less fortunate or those in need. Everyone deserves a hand up, or better yet, safety in the face of a harsh situation.

“You’re trash who doesn’t have any idea what she’s doing,” the alpha growls as I sigh.

“I’m sorry you feel like that,” I tell him, shaking my head. “I plan to make a list of people I’ll never work with because they refused to give me the time of day. When Cian Sullivan or his men choose to come visit you, I hope you remember me.”

Whirling away, I hold my head high as he sputters and screams out obscene things about how I’m over my head and should be packed up to avoid being a troublemaker. Yes, because being fucked regularly would make me any less anxious to see this through.

I hope someone fucks him over with a rusty pole. Blowing out a breath as I leave his office, I pull out my phone to call the other listings. Maybe if they don’t physically see me, I won’t have so many issues.

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