I stand in this beautiful boat, watching through the windows as Slater and Jasper interact with their clients with such professionalism despite clearly hating everything the men stand for, and something clicks into place.
I might be investigating the wrong people.
The Wilde Charters pack, these four men who’ve shown me nothing but respect and desire and genuine care, they aren’t the bad guys, are they?
Instead, my time should be focused on the real douchebag.
Reed.
I stare at him through the window as he’s laughing like a fucking hyena, running his mouth, probably saying something else derogatory about Omegas while Rex nods along like the sycophant he is.
And suddenly, everything crystallizes.
I need to change my game plan and work on taking down Reed.
He’s in town. I’m undercover. I have access. Why the hell not?
The more I think about it, the more it feels right. A buzz runs through me at finding a way to tackle Reed beyond just offering an alternative on my radio show. This could be my chance to really expose him.
Because that’s what he is—a fraud. A con man selling Alpha superiority to insecure men who need someone to tell them they’re special. A manipulator who profits from keeping Omegas oppressed and afraid.
I need to get closer to him. Learn more about his operation. Find out what he’s hiding, because men like him always have secrets. Always have skeletons they’re desperate to keep buried.
This is my chance to get inside intel, to tear him down from the inside out.
My investigative instincts, dormant since I started getting distracted by four gorgeous Alphas, roar back to life.
This is what I came here to do. Expose harm. Protect Omegas. Make a difference.
I just had the wrong target.
I take another drink of water, square my shoulders, and head back outside with the camera open on my phone. Slater and Jasper are off to the side, having a quiet conversation about something work-related.
I approach Reed with my best professional smile.
“You’re doing amazing,” I say, lifting my phone. “Let me get some photos of you in action. Really show off that Alpha prowess.” I want to gag saying the words, but Reed eats it up.
“Excellent idea,” he says, puffing up slightly, chest expanding like he’s already imagining the admiration. “Rex, hold my rod. Let me pose properly.”
He passes the fishing rod off and squares himself toward me, adjusting his stance, chin lifting a fraction higher. The ocean stretches behind him in endless gray blue, wind tugging at his jacket, but all his focus is on the image of himself that he thinks I’m capturing.
I lift the phone and snap several photos, angling for variety while he shifts subtly between each shot, shoulders back, stomach tight, playing the part of something impressive.
“You know,” I say lightly, keeping my tone curious instead of confrontational, “I’d love to know more about being an Alpha. I may be a Beta, but who says I can’t learn to be better? Stronger?”
The words scrape on the way out, sour and wrong, but Reed doesn’t notice. Or maybe he does and just doesn’t care.
His face lights up with unmistakable satisfaction. “Now that’s the attitude I like to see,” he says, stepping closer, lowering his voice like he’s letting me in on something exclusive. “Too many Betas just settle. They accept whatever space they’regiven without ever questioning whether they deserve more. But ambition is rare.”
I nod thoughtfully, snapping another photo. “And Omegas?”
He sighs, almost sympathetically. “Omegas thrive when they feel settled. When someone gives them stability and direction.” He watches the line in the water, calm and certain. “Most of them don’t actually want independence. They just think they do. It’s noise. Confusion. Give them a strong Alpha who knows what he’s doing, and they quiet right down.”
I swallow, forcing my expression to stay neutral. I lift the phone, focusing on the reel, the hook, anything but Reed’s face. “I guess structure helps. Keeps things… clear.”
Reed smiles, pleased. “Exactly. You understand. Most Betas don’t.”
I nod like I’m absorbing wisdom instead of swallowing acid.
