I text frantically:OMG. OMG. OMG. Reed just confessed. He’s not an Alpha. He’s a Beta. He’s been lying to everyone this whole time.
But nothing is going through, as it’s being held up by the huge video file, and I don’t have time. I rush to room 1002 and knock, thinking,What if I convince them to let me have access to their social media?
No answer.
I try the handle—unlocked.
I push inside to find it empty. They must be with the others, eating. Anticipation swells within me at the possibility.
There’s a computer switched on, showing the social media accounts and my uploaded photos.
And next to it is another computer with what looks like presentation controls. Background visuals for the stage. Music cues. Lighting controls.
The whole system for running the show.
I’m moving before I can stop myself, shutting the door, and hurrying into the chair.
I pull out my phone and text the guys:This is my one chance to really take him down. I’m doing this. I love you all.
The video is still uploading—39%… 45%… 52%…
I have no time to waste, so I get to work, my fingers flying over the keys, my heart racing, knowing this is how I destroy Reed.
And I’m going to make damn sure everyone sees exactly who Dr. Langston Reed really is.
31
ANITA
I’m back in the auditorium, taking photos of Reed onstage like nothing’s happened, playing my part perfectly.
Still haven’t heard from the guys. My video is probably still uploading, taking forever because of the file size. But that’s okay. I have things in motion. I’m doing this whether they respond or not.
Reed is pacing the stage now, his white suit practically glowing under the lights, his voice booming through the speakers.
“I have the secret,” he announces dramatically, pausing for effect. “The secret that will fundamentally change you. Transform you from the inside out, and if you apply this every single day in your life, I can absolutely guarantee you will see dramatic changes. Real, measurable results.”
The audience leans forward, hanging on every word.
“But first,” Reed continues, his voice dropping conspiratorially, “let me convince you with a real example. Someone who came to me broken. Lost. A Beta who feltabsolutely awful about himself. Weak. Invisible. The kind of man women walk right past without even seeing.”
My jaw clenches at his words.
“A man who let society convince him he was worthless,” Reed goes on. “Who believed the lies that he didn’t matter, that he’d never amount to anything. That he’d die alone and forgotten.”
Some people in the audience gasp, as he’s building this up perfectly, and I know what’s coming.
“But I took him under my wing and showed him the truth, and now he’s going to tell you firsthand how my program has changed his life. How it’s given him purpose and power. And he’s going to convince you—all of you—not to question what I’m teaching or listen to outside noise from people who will tell you otherwise. Feminist propaganda. Omega activists who want to keep you weak. Ignore all of it.”
Reed extends his arm toward where I’m standing in the shadows. “Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome to the stage—Ash!”
The audience erupts in applause.
I tense for just a moment, my heart hammering, but this is going exactly according to plan, yet nerves are getting to me. I’d told Reed backstage during intermission that I was ready to speak onstage as his example of success.
Concern crawls up my spine like spiders, but I hold my ground and my own phone securely in my hand.
I walk up the steps to the stage, keeping my stride masculine and confident. The lights are blinding up here, and I can’t see the audience at all, just shapes in the darkness beyond the stage.
