Page 6 of Royal Omega

“Ok, but counterpoint, maybe it wouldn’t be the worst thing if someone showed you some affection. Real, honest affection. Maybe you could even be, oh I don’t know, happy?”

I have to admit that in my heart of hearts, that sounds pretty damn nice.

“Castle! Come in here,” Simon shouts from his doorway.

“Uh-oh, Martinez wants to see you. Hope you’re not getting thrown back into the gossip pages,” Seraph teases.

I groan. “Don’t even joke about that.”

She scoffs. “Please. We both know Simon loves you.”

Maybe he does, but any goodwill I have, I’ve earned since I got my foot in the door. I proved my worth. I went from gossip to current events in the space of a few months, and I’ve had my head down on some big project or other ever since. Simon, it turns out, cares more about my results than my last name, thank God. He gave me room to run, and that’s exactly what I’ve been doing.

“Maybe your mom called and quit on your behalf again?” Seraph muses. “Or remember that time your dads announced your engagement to that douchebag in the Tribune without telling you?”

“That was a great week,” I say dryly.

“Well, good luck, whatever it is. Lunch later?”

“Sounds good to me.” Seraph slaps me on the back and heads off to her desk, whistling happily like she doesn’t have a care in the world.

I step into Simon’s office and shut the door. “What’s up, boss?”

“Carissa, do you know this showOmega Girls?”

“Yeah...?”

“Well, I’ve got an assignment for you.”

***

“NO, ABSOLUTELY NOT. Come on, Martinez, you can’t be serious!”

Simon holds up his hands in a gesture of surrender. “I know, I know, but hear me out. There’s a story here. TheOmega Girlsproducers, they’re changing the whole game this season. After what happened with that girl Haven last year, they took a lot of heat for how they were doing their casting.”

“Yeah, I remember. They put her on the late night show instead of the primetime show because she was curvy. That other girl, too, the one with the scars. What happened to her?”

Martinez shrugs. “No clue. The late night show just stopped after they moved Haven to the mansion, no explanation. Something must have happened, though, because this season, there’s no moreAfter Darkprogramming. It’s going to be all main-house all the time, and they’re bringing in some serious packs. They say their omegas will be the most diverse they’ve ever had. And you know, I can’t get just anyone to go in there.”

“What, you don’t think Seraph would twist that place around her little finger?”

Simon snorts. “More like she’d fuck everything that moved and then burn the place to the ground. Come on, Iz. You know what I’m saying here, right?”

“I know you’re saying that you think it’s a good idea. I don’t. You know I don’t like to do omega shit. I want to be a writer, not an ‘omega writer.’ If I wanted that job, I could have gotten it anywhere. I came here to do something different. That’s why I don’t use my real name on my articles.”

To my surprise, Simon’s eyes narrow, and a vein appears on his neck — the one usually reserved for writers who miss their deadlines. “Look, Carissa, I give you a lot of leeway, but don’t forget I’m your boss.”

Wow, that’s new. I blink at him in shock. “So you’re saying that this isn’t a choice? I have to do this or I’m fired?”

My boss rubs his forehead and sighs. “Look, what I’m saying is that this is a good assignment for you. You’ve been trained to be the ultimate omega, and you’ve got the talent to find the real story, if there is one. And with your name, you know they’ll make space if you say you want to come.”

I drum my fingers on the arm of my chair for a moment, tilting my head to the side as I contemplate my boss. This isn’t him. This isn’t his MO. He looks me in the eye for a moment, but then drops his gaze to his desk. I purse my lips together. Fuck. I know what this is.

“What did they offer you?” I ask, letting a little of the poison from my gut run into my tone.

Simon’s mouth opens and closes. He reminds me of a fish dying on the pier.

“Don’t lie to me, Martinez. My family put you up to this. What was it this time? Money? A trip to Belize? Or did they just tell you what they wanted and you bent over?”

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