Incompetents.
I am surrounded by morons.
This isn't good for my skin. I'm getting this stress all over me. If I'll get a wrinkle from this -or worse, eye bags- I'll make sure to kill them all before my botox appointment.
My dear daughter, Clara, is stating the statistics of our company. I already know them, but I like her presenting them.
After all, this will be inherited by her one day.
"Killian called last night. He took a month off."
Ugh, my dumb nephew. Always doing whatever he wants. A headache really, but I am a family woman through and through. So I stand him. For now. If he gets too big for his shoes, he'll end up like her useless mother.
Dead in a ditch.
My sister was an omega. A shame for this family.Ruined our good name.
The only good thing she did was giving birth to my dear Clara and to Killian.
My schedule didn't allow me to have kids. And the price of my body just for having a little walking mucus that will steal your wealth after your death sounded like a losing deal.
I have adopted her beta daughter. I have made her alpha son the CEO of my pharmaceutical empire.
She would have thanked me. Despite killing her to ensure I have heirs on my own, I did her a favor really.
And yet, her utterly stupid son is giving my estheticians a run for their money everyday.
"Why the sudden vacation?"
"He blabbed about a deal with the Prime Minister and a marriage with his son, Luther."
"Optimistic little shit".
I gave him that pathetic omega on a plate.
A month or so ago, I came across a very interesting piece of information: the son of the Prime Minister was an illegal flower.
The law clearly expresses that omega with flowers that toxic- like his Belladonna- are bound to be secluded in a special institution. Spending their rest of their lives incapable of procreation, in confinement.
If the world got out that the second-most influential man of the state was hiding a Belladonna son, his entire career would be destroyed. He would be executed publicly and his family stripped of any wealth.
In my opinion, they should clean up any male omega with a public execution. It was unnatural- a blasphemy even for men to give birth. A man should be a man- a symbol of power.
Not a bitch.
But someday, when I'll have the Prime Minister in the palm of my hand, I'll make sure to clean the state of this scums of society.
That information would have been the first step.
I needed to use a marriage between the arrogant litter, Luther, and my utterly useless nephew, Killian. It was a small sacrifice.
Like losing a horse for the queen in a game of chess. Except I was losing a waste of my DNA to a waste of air.
Waste combined with another waste. I just love recycling like that.
When I walked into Luther's office to discuss the business, I had to admit to myself that it was such a sin to make this man an omega.
With broad shoulders and sharp features, a downwards smile -like nothing could impress him- and those piercing purple eyes, no wonder why nobody thought he was actually an omega.
If he wasn't such a nature anomaly, I might even have married him.
I don't have a sweet tooth -since that's a characteristic of low class-, but even a powerful woman like me can enjoy an eye candy.
I would have treated him like I treat all my leashed dogs- with care and training.
I may have let him sit kneeled between my knees, open mouth under my desk, as I would have handled business.
Just like I had his father when I was younger. Before he became the arrogant, useless man he is today.
It's a shame to waste such good genetics on a blasphemy- an omega.
Useless thinking in any case.
I rather touch radioactive trash than to let an omega breathe near me.
Despite my trusted source, Luther revealed himself as a Pink Dalmatian Aglaonema.
Sadly lawful.
I have later found out from Damian that Killian gave the little prince hallucinogens to put in my tea and flower prosthetics.
So I punished Killian by sending Damian - his low-taste booty call- to Emiliano.
As a sign of friendship.
Nobody knows exactly who Emiliano is and the men who met him- well, even the devil seem more pleasant.
One thing for certain.
He run the underground pharmaceutical business. Mercilessly.
A true man.
Exactly the kind of man I need for my baby- my company- to expand and grow.
And me? No fault to my diet,mommy is just hungry.
I gave Killian some time off to pout.
A grown man acting like a child. But what can I do?
The company is a giant and it needs protection. In a sea dominated by men acting like hungry hyenas, the only thing they could respect was another man.
But behind every great man is a greater woman.
And so I need my dumb puppet of a nephew to stay alive.
But a month off?
That's excessive and with a bad excuse.
The Prime Minister is an unreachable guy. God knows I tried. And my nephew has the flirting skill of a dying ugly fish. A marriage between him and the little prince is impossible.
"He sent proof. A signature of the Prime Minister."
"A signature?"
"It seems that Killian received a letter, but he refused to show the content in it."
"Search his house. Torch it to the ground if you need to. Just find me the letter."
"Yes, ma'am"
So we still have a chance.
Great.
My dog of a nephew's been thrown a bone. A pricey one—with purple eyes.
And I'll make sure he'll chew and swallow all of it.
I should call Emiliano. This upper hand should be dealt with carefully.
"Mister Sanchez?"
"Yes."
"I am Lucrezia Akna. The founder of Akna's Pharmaceuticals. I have an offer you could not refuse. An unlawful omega."
I paused. Silence.
"I know you are collecting them", I continued."I was thinking the Prime Minister's son would be a nice attachment."
"Bring him to me and name your price"
The line shut down.
The last thing I heard was a laugh—low, guttural, and amused.