"Yeah, kind of,” I said with a smile, the first buzzy sparkles of pride making my chest feel light. “I’m opening a company that makes video games."
"I see," she said, glancing around thoughtfully. "Then this would be a good space for that, big and open, good for collaborative work environments. Though… between you and me, honey, I’d recommend getting some security installed beforehand."
My brows pinched in confusion. "Why? It’s a keycard entry downstairs, right?”
"It's perfectly safe," she assured. "And the area is beingrenovated,” a nice way that middle-aged betas with silver bobs said ‘gentrified’, “But if you're going to have loads of expensive equipment, I’d consider it a necessary expense."
"I see…”
"But!” she said, returning to her brisk, bright manner. “You really havenothingto worry about. I’ll just send over all the info, you fill out a couple of forms, and I’m sure I can get you approved like that!” She snapped her fingers, long red nailscatching the light. “Just let yourself out, hon. I’m going to head downstairs and get this sorted.”
“Okay, cool! Thanks,” I said, taking one more glance around the room.
This could be the origin story, the place that news articles pulled photos of as thestartof my gaming empire. Or I could crash and burn horribly and be forced to leave the industry as a complete disgrace, but who was thinking aboutthat?
My idea was solid. There was a huge player base that was being deeply underserved in the horror game market that I had my finger right on the pulse of—omegas. Out of the hundreds of titles on the market, there were only a couple dozen that portrayed omegas as anything other than a victim, someone who needed saving.
Fuck that.
Omegas could be badasses too. Not everything had to be about stupid alphas and their toxic tropes about being tough and strong that only they could relate to. I wanted to build something different, and I knew I could. Though I didn't have as much technical knowledge as I would’ve liked, I did know what people wanted to play, and I was sure I could sell it.
It just needed to exist.
I had one more potential location on the list, but I had a feeling that this was going to be the one. The price was right, and for the most part, it ticked all my boxes.
On the way out, I took a couple more notes on my phone. Well, I was taking notes until the screen went black. It, like my car, probably needed an upgrade. But I didn’t mind the short battery life for the most part.
It was a little annoying, but I had a charger in the car, so everything would be fine.
Still, with the heavy front door of the building slamming shut behind me, I found myself walking a bit faster—that comment the realtor made had me just a little nervous.
In a few short minutes, I was rounding the corner for the paid parking lot that I’d left Dorothy in, digging in my bag for my keys. When I looked up, it was with a scream.
They’d killed her.
The bastards hadmurdered Dorothy.
All four of her windows had been smashed out, glass littering the inside of the car and mixing with the gravel below. But it wasn’tjustthe windows; parts of the body were dented, too. They just flailed the bat or crowbar or whatever they used to bludgeon my beautiful old girl to deatheverywhere.
And now my car was destroyed.
Totaled.
The new windows alone would cost more than the entire thing was worth in parts.
My throat was tight with tears, vision already starting to blur.
What should I do?
I needed to call someone. If not for help with this mess, at the very least for a ride. Butfuck, of course my phone was fuckingdead.
As dead as Dorothy.
Tears rolled down my cheeks as I sobbed, finding my phone cable blissfully in one piece among the wreckage. It was pretty long, so if I got it plugged in and the car on, I’d be able to get enough charge to call somebody without hurting myself.
Trying to be at least a little smart, I wrapped the bottom of my shirt around my hand and carefully opened the handle. The rest of the ruined window crumbled out of the frame to the tune of the shards hitting the ground near my feet.
I’d thrown the cable carelessly over the center console, so it was draped onto the passenger seat, or maybe that was whoeverbroke in. I wasn’t exactly keeping tabs on how I left a piece of wire every time I got out of my car. I tried to be careful as I leaned over to grab it, but my blurred vision was making things more difficult than they needed to be.
