Page 32 of Stolen Omega

“Don’t worry about that. No one’s going to jail.”

He means he’ll take the fall. I know him. I know how he thinks.

“She’ll need you more than she’ll need me if it comes to that,” I warn him. “Don’t punish her for a mistake I made. Okay? Promise me. Or I won’t give her the suppressants and we’ll take our chances escaping this hotel together tonight.”

“Don’t jump the gun. We might not even need an exit strategy,” he tells me.

“Promise me.”

“Who’s the Alpha here?” he asks, sounding vaguely amused.

Okay, he’s not too worried, then. At least, he doesn’t sound like he is.

He might play by the rules as much as possible, but when he decides to break them, all bets are off.

He’s already decided we’re going to have to break the rules, so I can’t trust anything he says.

“If you can’t make that promise, right fucking now, I swear, I’ll go wake her—”

“I’ll make sure we don’t go to jail. Any of us. Okay?” he asks, before he blows out a breath.

I guess he just did me one better than I asked for, but I don’t fully trust that promise.

I don’t answer, and he sighs softly before he starts to explain himself. “Seriously, Russ. That contract is shady as hell. I have enough money for the kind of lawyer who can turn a jury against a saint, and her parents are as far from saints as it gets. No one will see the inside of a prison cell.”

“How did you get that kind of money?” I ask, suspicious.

“I flipped houses when I got the money from my grandfather’s estate as a teenager.”

Huh. I vaguely remember him mentioning flipping houses, but I’d assumed that eventually he’d spent whatever he made doing it. Why else would he live like he earns a pittance?

“You still have that?” I ask, not quite able to believe it.

“I have a little more than that now,” he admits. “Turns out five mil earns decent interest.”

There’s no way I just heard what I thought I did.

“Five what? You have how much in the bank?”

My Alpha’s a millionaire, and this is the first I’m hearing about it?

What the hell?

“I think it’s almost six and a half now,” he murmurs.

Alphas. They don’t know how to be alive without attracting crazy fortunes, apparently.

“Russ? Are you still there?”

“Hmm? Yeah, I’m just wondering how much I’d get if I bumped you off.”

He laughs. “All of it.”

“Every last cent?”

“And the apartment, and a beach house in Spain …”

“Okay, now you’re shitting me.”

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