Page 22 of Fired at the Heart

The server’s curious gaze settles on me. “Another blond?”

Raphael’s hand brushes the small of my back, the touch sending a lick of heat up my spine. “I’m more into compatibility than appearance, if you know what I mean? I’m interested in a permanent arrangement.”

“If you’ll follow me?” Turning, the server leads us deeper into the club, past silk-draped alcoves and more illicit displays.

I keep my mask in place. This isn’t the first time I’ve stepped into a place like this, and it won’t be the last. A lot of business is conducted in such clubs, just not ones where the Omegas are slaves instead of contracted employees.

As we step into the VIP area, the atmosphere shifts, cigars and expensive whiskey becoming more dominant, the lighting brighter. Plush couches line the walls, occupied by men in tailored suits and women draped in silks and jewels.

At the center sits our target. The club owner, Vince Moreau, is a sleek, well-groomed Beta who regards us with cool calculation, his posture assessing us like a predator sizing up its prey. “What have we here? A pair of pretty little things, come to play with the big boys?”

“I’m here looking to add to my collection.” Raphael tugs me to his side and grips my chin, tilting my head from side to side. “As you said, my current Omega is quite pretty, and I’ve had trouble finding a second pet who meets my standards.”

Vince laughs as he sprawls back on the couch, fingers tapping his glass. “And what makes you think I can help you?”

I don’t miss the way his assessing gaze shifts to me, sharp with interest.

Raphael follows his line of sight, and his fingers slip to the side of my neck in a casual touch that burns my skin. “Because you know quality when it’s in front of you. And you can see I take care of my investments.”

The man hums, intrigued. “That so?” His attention lingers on me in consideration. “He’s well-trained.”

Raphael smiles, but there’s nothing warm in it. “Exquisitely.” His fingers slide lower, brushing the pulse at my throat. “Even the best-kept pets need companionship, though, and I have particular tastes.”

The man leans forward, elbows braced on the table, interest piqued. “What do you have in mind?”

Raphael chuckles, low and knowing. “Something that complements my current toy’s pheromones.”

Though my expression remains neutral, my blood simmers. He’s playing the role too well, every word sending a spike of unwanted jealousy through me. This is a game. I know he’s maneuvering us into position, that wanting to breathe in another’s pheromones is what will get us into the back room.

But he’smymate, and the thought of him seeking out another Omega instills me with the seething desire to kill anyone who tries to come between us.

Vince studies me, and a smirk tugs at his lips. He lifts a hand, crooking a finger, and the security guards who stand near the entrances step forward, closing in around us.

“Do we have a problem?” Just the right amount of indignation laces Raphael’s tone.

The club owner rises to stalk toward us. “You tell me. Something about you two feels off.”

A surge of panic rises, but I force it down, schooling my features into a mask of cool indifference.

Raphael’s hand drops to his side, leaving me room to move if needed. “What do you mean?”

With a jerk of his head, the club owner motions for his guards to surround us, their hands resting on the weapons at their hips. “Why don’t we take this somewhere more private, hmm?”

My mind races, calculating our next move as we’re ushered toward a door at the back of the club, the guards caging us in on all sides.

As the door swings shut behind us, a sinking sensation fills me as I take in the private room. A plush velvet couch faces a wall of gleaming mirrors and a single bed.

Vince’s eyes rake over me with a predatory gleam that makes my skin crawl. “So, you’re the Alpha’s little pet, huh?” He drops onto the couch, his knees spread wide. “Prove it.”

8

My pulse stutters, a mixture of anger and anticipation coursing through my veins.

Beside me, Raphael tenses. “Is this a new kind of interview process for your customers?”

“You’ve never purchased from my club before.” Vince rattles the ice cubes in his glass. “Indulge me.”

Raphael’s hand settles on the back of my neck, his thumb slipping beneath the nape guard to circle his Mark. “You heard the man, pet. Show him who you belong to.”

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