In Eva’s bedroom, her stream setup had suffered the brunt of the intruder's fury. The desk was nearly cracked in half, her equipment smashed nearly beyond recognition.
I took a few photos. When it came to the rest of the room, it was well documented through her streams, and would be easy enough to pick out items from the footage she had, but her desk was rarely seen on camera. It would take a little more guesswork to determine what she had so it could be replaced.
Her clothes, ripped from her closet and sopping wet, had been cut with a knife or a pair of scissors, her makeup smushed overtop in a glom of multicolored paste.
Whoever had done this, they'd been efficient.
As poorly written and repetitive as the dead man's messages were, they painted a clear enough picture. They were angry. And they were sorely mistaken on who the fuck Eva belonged to.
When I found out who they were, I was going to make them wish that they'd never been born, much less heard the name Eva Kent.
It was one thing when I broke in and terrorized my little omega whore, it was another thing entirely for someone else to defile Eva’s autonomy and walk through our contract.
I picked over the mess, looking for anything that wasn’t broken with no luck. Adjusting my gloves, I pressed the power button on Eva's computer.
Unsurprisingly, nothing happened. The water hadabsolutelygotten into the case and fried the entire thing. I’d need to bringit home and see if I could get her files to transfer, but it would have to wait.
Dead man's most irritating move in this was absolutely the fuckingwater.
Well… actually it might’ve been the holes in the drywall. Or the cereal poured all over the kitchen.
No, it was the message, the incorrect use of your so careless that it made my blood boil.
I ran the back of my hand over my forehead with a sigh. Going to her closet, I found a few items that hadn’t been cut or soaked, taking the small drawstring bag from the pocket of my jacket, I added the items inside. Along with a handbag that appeared to be undamaged… even if it was a little ugly.
Digging through Eva’s vanity yielded similar results. A few of her cosmetics and brushes had survived the assault, though the rest would need to be replaced. After snapping a few more photos, I was fairly certain that I’d be able to identify everything, with the help of the internet or Tara.
Or Joon.
I smiled a little at the thought of my omegas taking my credit card to go on a shopping spree, mentally tucking away that activity for when the dust had settled and it was safe for Eva to be without one of her alphas again. It’d be fun for them to get to replace everything, build some new memories together… But for the time being I would at least handle the basics.
I documented as much as I could, trying to give myself a deep cache of evidence. But, with Eva’s computer being a bust, there really wasn’t much more that I could do. My time would be best spent at home sifting through whatever chatlogs I could access in the hopes of unmasking this creep.
Let’s just hope that Eva uses cloud storage, not local.
The longer I remained in the ruined space, the angrier I became. If anyone was going to sneak around in my omegashouse, steal her shit, and terrify her, it was going to beme. I had a signed contract consenting to it.
This loser? He was about to learn that when you stuck your hand into the mouth of a fucking shark, you got your goddamn fingers bitten off.
I knew I couldn't go back out the front door without leaving footprints, so I took my leave through her bedroom window, pausing halfway through the opening when a familiar scent caught in my nose. I turned, looking for the source of the smell, finding a strip of torn fabric caught on the wonky nail sticking from the lefthand side of the sill. I plucked the little scrap from where it'd caught, bringing it close to my nose for a deeper sniff.
Menthol cigarettes.
"Got you, cunt," I whispered, taking a plastic baggy from the front pouch of my bag and placing the fabric inside.
From what I could tell in the dark, it was likely part of a shirt—ripped in the middle of a hasty getaway. A fatal mistake, because now I knew that this wasn’t an isolated event. This creep had been after my sweet tesoro for weeks. I ran my fingers along the closure of the bag, sealing it shut with a smirk.
All I needed to do was have Eva scent the scrap, and we'd be one step closer to making sure that no one was foolish enough to come near what was mine again. Even if she couldn’t identify the scent, any information she could provide would provide useful context for me to narrow down my list of suspects.
Better run, fuck head. Because when I catch you I’m going to make the guillotine look like a beach vacation.
Between losingmy Streamverse account and my apartment being destroyed, I’d almost entirely forgotten that Indigo and Joon weren’t exactly on speaking terms. Though neither of them let that stop them from doing everything in their power to try and make me feel better.
There just… wasn’t a solution. At least not one as simple as some ice cream from the corner store or a few hours worth of cuddling. Though… that absolutely didn’t hurt.
Not at all.
After a day spent piled onto the couch in the media room, Joon offered for me to use his nest as a sort of bedroom for the night, at least until we could all work out something better in the morning.
