Because I know her, I also know what drives her.It will always be about the next payday, the next bit of income.It will never be about people.It can’t be.People will let you down.They will sell you promises they never intend to keep.
Bitterness wells in my chest as I close out her account and put my attention to people I can actually assist.At the end of the day, when money is in the mix, people will always let you down.I’ve already been burned more times than I care to count, and I refuse to be burned again.
Not when I can just go find another woman.
Not when I can just go back to the clinic and fuck an omega until Noelle is out of my system.
Not when I can just find someone else like her and pretend until my heart becomes cold and callus.
Noelle.
Her name trips through my mind like a mantra.It was never supposed to be more than one session.Hell, it was never supposed to beher.It was supposed to be a facsimile, a replica, an omega in her likeness.Not her.Never her.
A growl hums low in my throat as I pull up the clinic’s page.The bright smile of the owner grates on my nerves as I quickly skim to where I can sign in.It’s all so pretty, so clinical, so professional.I almost wish I had never given in.
As my fingers hover over the appointment sheet, I hesitate.What are the odds I’ll see her there again?Did I make it clear that I never wanted her to show up there again?God knows I didn’t really scare her off.Not like I intended.
I fucking choked at the end.All I wanted was in between her thighs, to ease the ache in my chest for just a little bit.It was only supposed to be a little bit.
Clinical.
Routine.
Detached.
Ha.Anything but.
Closing out the screen, I take a swig of coffee and bury myself in work.Eventually, I get back into the rhythm until breathing becomes easier, the numbers no longer blur, and I forget all about a bewitching omega with wide hazel eyes and hair I want to wrap my fist in.
Hours passuntil it becomes dark outside.Once everyone is gone and it’s just me, I stretch back and yawn.I need to go home, but I dread the empty penthouse.
Just once more, I need to see her account, to feel connected with her.Like a junky looking for a fix, I type in her information and look at her purchases.Somehow, in the span of a day, she’s managed to get far lower than I expected.At first, I worry she’s been hacked, but no.Every purchase seems legitimate and, unfortunately, necessary.
Seems as if the little omega is doing the practical thing with her windfall and paying down some debt I didn’t realize she had.No doubt she’s also getting ahead of some of them, paying them early so she doesn’t have to worry about it.Smart, but what about Christmas?
She mentioned a brother at one point.Has she already gotten him some presents?Nothing shows up on the screen, but then again, she might have used the cash for that.Shaking my head, I close it out and rub at my eyes.
There’s no use.She’s not mine.She’ll never be mine.
Never again will I fall for someone who only wants me as a paycheck.Once was enough.Watching an omega smile and promise forever while she siphoned every cent she could… and walked away the second the account stopped growing.
Lesson learned.Money first, heart never.It’s an agony I wouldn’t wish on my enemy.Sure, many Alphas may not care, but they’re also the ones to sleep around, only keeping a trophy wife, so they have someone to show off.
But that’s not me.That’s not what I want.I want an omega I can proudly bestow my mark on, someone who I can show off with my claim etched deeply in their shoulder.
It’s not about the money.It’s never been about the money.Money just gives you the means to buy things that can make you happy, but it doesn’t magically give you happiness.Maybe I’m just naïve.Maybe I’m just far too sentimental for my own good.Either way, I only want one thing, and it seems to be the thing that will always elude me.
With a heavy sigh, I turn off my computer and head home.I have to face the loneliness sometime.
Even though I brace for it, the bright, clean floors gleam at me, polished so brightly, I nearly see my reflection in them.Everything is cold and sterile.Not someone a family lives.Not somewhere love lives.
As much as I detested growing up poor, there was always something about our house that screamed home.Was it the threadbare pillow on the couch I used to hold when watching something scary?Was it the worn table we’d sit at and eat what precious little food Mother made for us?Was it the smell of home?
Even now, as I close my eyes, I can barely seem to recall it.It never had an exact smell, yet here I note its absence.There’s something missing, something I can’t just purchase.With all my money, this place will only ever be a house.It will never be a home.
I pour a shot of whiskey and groan as the heat slides down my throat and into my belly.Could she make it a home?Could Noelle find a way to turn this glacial prison into something worth coming back to?
My footsteps echo across the tiled floor as I go to my bedroom.Still, that damned scent of peppermint follows me.One time.One fucking time.Why the hell can’t I get her out of my head?Why does her scent seem to morph with every inhale?Was does it smell more and more like she belongs to me?
