The streets were still half-empty; the morning bustle had just begun with a few people leaving for work. But inside the luxurious vehicle, the silence was absolute, that kind of dense, heavy silence that only forms when no one dares to break it.
William Aballay sat by the window, his body perfectly relaxed, as if nothing existed more urgently than the buildings passing on the other side of the glass. The alpha had one leg elegantly crossed over the other, his elbow resting on the padded edge of the door, and his chin on his closed fist.
At first glance, anyone might have mistaken him for a bored and distant man, perhaps waiting for something worthy of his attention to happen.
But inside, it was a different story.
His mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, where a riot of images and data appeared from time to time. And at the center of it all, a white-haired omega occupied the center of attention.
The alpha reviewed the information he had gathered the night before. First, through Elias, who had been so tense that he spilled more than he should have, a quick call to one of his most effective contacts was enough to obtain a detailed report.
Erika Doll. Daughter of Beatriz and Darent Doll, parents with impeccable surnames but rotten souls who left her alone when she needed them most, who preferred to disappear rather than raise her. This led her to abandon that surname and adopt a new one. One that wouldn't weigh her down like a chain.
Belion.
The surname she now used to protect the two puppies in her care. Melina and Rose, her younger sisters, were two girls who clung to Erika with the same strength with which she fought every day to keep them safe.
The three of them lived together in a modest apartment, in an area forgotten by development, without luxuries or a safety net. Just the three of them together.
The social worker in charge of the case had agreed to let them stay together on one condition: Erika had to generate a stable income; she had to prove she could be more than a sister, that she could be a caregiver, a provider, the breadwinner of the family.
And she had done it. In her own way, job after job, singing all the songs she could night after night in that dive, smiling at strangers, enduring leering, violent drunks, and a boss with more ambition than morals.
She endured it all.
After waking up, William looked down at his cell phone, where an image softly glowed on the screen. Erika, kneeling between Melina and Rose, a moment frozen in time with a sweet, unforced smile, with an authenticity that no amount of acting could fake.
"An omega who protects, who fights, who doesn't beg or give up..." he murmured softly, his voice low and deep, as if speaking louder might break something delicate.
He had met many omegas, more than he cared to remember. Some offered themselves to him with hollow seduction, seeking status or protection; others tried to trade their own children as currency, as livestock, as debt.
He avoided those types. Not out of pity, but because they were already broken beyond repair. He delegated them to others.
But Erika... Erika wasn't one of them.
He clearly remembered the first time he saw her. Erika commanded the stage with a buzz that seemed plucked from the depths of her soul. A performance that silenced more than one person with a presence that shouldn't belong in such a wretched place.
And then... the collapse.
The moment her essence was released, wild, pure, intoxicating. The moment her pheromones filled the air, sharp and unfiltered, and every man in that room faltered. William felt it too, like a flame licked at his bones. His wolf wanted to pounce, clawing at the edges of his control, howling for her, for a place by her side.
But he resisted. Instead, he watched. He watched the trembling in her limbs, the catching of her breath. This wasn't a moment for possession. It was a moment that needed space.
Now, however, the memory haunted him, causing him to clench his jaw, forcing himself to ignore it.
(This shouldn't be happening. Not to me. Not like this.) The thought echoed behind his gritted teeth, but it didn't help. The image returned again and again: her voice, raw and beautiful.
William turned to the window, seeing his own reflection. The same sculpted, impassive face, but in the window, her red, ember-like eyes pulsing with something darker.
This time, thinking about something else, wanting to distract himself with something else... like the dress she wore that night. A color he would never choose. And yet, with Erika, even something like that became a blade. He suspected she could be covered with curtains and still silence a room all by herself.
"I could wear rags and still get noticed," he murmured, exhaling slowly as he sank deeper into the leather seat, closing his eyes and letting the hum of the engine envelop him.
(I don't know what you did, omega... but you're inside my head. No one has ever achieved that.) William opened his eyes again, which seemed to glow a deep crimson, gleaming with danger. (I hope you like the gift Omega presents to you.)
The thought made the alpha chuckle softly. He reached into a small side compartment, from where he pulled out a bottle and poured a careful measure of dark liquor into a crystal glass.
He sipped it slowly, savoring the small, momentary sting, which helped him understand with brutal clarity that what he felt wasn't just a passing attraction and something more than simple obsession... it was destiny.
Which was even more dangerous. But what alarmed him most was that he felt he was beginning to seduce.
That part of him that still knew how to be careful and keep his distance... was beginning to fall silent.
Because some things in this world weren't made to be denied.
And Erika Belion, with her inner fire and her wounds, was already William.
Even if she didn't know it yet.