Page 38 of Claimed Omega

My hope soared until I spotted the sprinkle of blood across Viper’s clothes, and my blood ran cold.

“What happened?” I pleaded.

“It’s okay, sweetheart.” Viper moved toward me, his touch soothing me. “We’ll tell you both everything. I suggest we head out to find this Amy at dawn before your father finds two of his men dead.”

A sharp ache ran through me at the mention of my father.

Twelve

TRINITY

Iwas nervous as hell, standing at the front door of Amy’s three-story mansion in the early morning hours. We had no time to waste, so after the guys arrived with the files from the Institute last night, they were ready to go see Amy first thing.

The facade of her house was a stunning display of Italian Renaissance architecture, with tall columns, grand arches, and intricate carvings.

The longer I waited at the front door, the more I glanced over my shoulder at the guards by the gate who had patted me down next to the intricate wrought-iron gates, which cast dazzling shadows on the pavement. I told them my name was Charity since my friend got along with Amy back at the Institute. It got me through the gates.

Tugging down on my hoodie, I tried my best to keep a low profile. My men were parked down the road on a dirt road in the woods. Viper was on foot, insisting he could keep an eye on me if something went south, though I had no idea where he was hiding.

Hands deep in my pockets, my rising panic had me hoping I wouldn’t see any of the men from the Matteis mansion. I never expected Amy’s place to be guarded, which worried me that she was more connected to the mafia family than she’d made out. She used to say they were a distant cousin or something, but I suspected she had been hiding the truth.

The front door opened, and my stomach clenched.

As soon as Amy stepped in the doorway, I felt a rush of emotions. Memories of our times in the Bakewell Institute for Girls came flooding back, and I couldn’t help but feel a pang of nostalgia for my friends, Charity, Adella, and especially Frannie.

Amy, on the other hand, appeared tense and uneasy. She was frowning at me, her gaze lingering up and down my body with a sneer on her lips. It was clear she wasn’t happy to see me, and I couldn’t blame her. We were never close at the Institute, but I never hated the girl.

Yet, seeing her outside the Institute, she was stunningly beautiful, dressed up in designer jeans and a floral flounce-sleeve shirt. Her hair cascaded in tight ringlet curls that bounced with each move she made. She had a delicate face, with high cheekbones and full lips that pulled tight at the corners. Despite her looks, her eyes revealed a world of hurt and pain—a world I’d experienced with her at the Institute, though part of me wondered if it was any better for her back home.

Growing up in a rich mafia family didn’t guarantee happiness. I’d seen everyone quiver around my father in his mansion.

“You’re not Charity,” she grumbled. “What do you want, Trinity?” She said my name as if it left a sour taste in her throat.

I stopped short of telling her to keep her damn voice low.

“Look, I don’t have much time,” I stated, breaking the tense silence. “I need your help. I promise I won’t be long.”

Amy raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “What kind of help?” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

“I need information on Axel,” I whispered, trying to keep my voice measured and unemotional. “Back at the Institute, you said you’re related to the Matteis, and I thought maybe you could help me out.”

Amy hesitated, her lips pinching to the side for a moment before pushing the door to close it.

“Nope, sorry I can’t help you.”

Instinctively, I blocked it with my foot, and she frowned. “Please, Amy. Remember that time I helped you out with Jack? You owe me this.”

“Fine,” she grumbled, her lips pinched tight. “Why’d you have to bring that up? I can see what I can do,” she answered, her voice guarded. “But I don’t want to get involved in your mess.”

I nodded, grateful for any help I could get. “Thanks.”

“Hurry in, and don’t talk to anyone,” she ordered.

Perfect by me. I drew my hoodie lower over my face. With a final glance over my shoulder at the guards, I hoped my men were safe.

As I stepped inside, the air grew cooler, and I was engulfed by the hush and serene atmosphere of the foyer. The floor was polished marble, and a magnificent crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling, casting a warm glow over the room. Elegant oil paintings adorned the walls, priceless antique furnishings filled the rooms we passed, and the air was heavy with the scent of rich mahogany and polished leather. The lavish lifestyle reminded me too much of my father’s mansion, leaving a bitter taste at the back of my throat, but there was an underlying sense of danger and foreboding that permeated the space.

Amy’s room was impeccable, with expensive furniture and designer decor. It was clear Amy had a comfortable life at home compared to the Institute, but then I reminded myself her family had put her in that place, waiting for her to come into her Omega. Guess with the Institute out of business, she was stuck at home for now. For all I knew, they intended to send her to another Institute, seeing she hadn’t changed yet.

---