Goodbye Deadbeat, Hello Alpha!

Are You My Meal?

[Isolde]

Following Harlan through the manor was like walking into someone else's dream. The place was ridiculously huge, in that 'over the top', 'old-money' kind of way. The ceilings were so high you'd wonder how they expected the maids to clean them. There were pillars everywhere, some in the courtyard weren't even holding anything up! The floors were marble—of course they were. Anything less would have been an insult.

Other staff zipped around us, carrying mops and hauling furniture around.

"Is there an event, Mr. Harlan?" I asked, turning my attention to his back.

"Just Harlan is fine." He paused and looked over his shoulder. "As you can tell, this is a holiday house. Everyone seems so on edge because the Quinns would be arriving tomorrow."

He then turned to continue in the same direction and I followed him.

"You said you have children?" He asked.

The question caught me off guard. "Yes. A little boy." I replied, unwilling to give out too much information.

After the anonymous text from that night, the sender had asked what hiring me would cost. I thought it was a trick question and called a life-changing sum just to scare them off. The moment I did, twenty thousand was paid into my account and once the job was done, I would get the actual amount. Hell, I should have asked for more!

With the amount in question, not only could I pay off my debts, but I could also move and start afresh with Rick.

Still, I had no idea how I got accepted as a maid into the Quinn family's vacation home, but from how smoothly the whole process had gone, I could only assume that my sponsor was likely one of the family members.

There was barely any information about the Quinns on the internet, so all I knew was the name of my target and what the rumours said about him.

They say the Quinns are eccentric people and amongst them, Nicolo—was a bit... twisted. Though I had no idea what that meant.

Harlan eventually crossed to a smaller building beside the main house, and then he stopped outside a pale wooden door on the ground floor. It looked deceptively simple compared to the rest of the estate's regal design, but inside was a clean and sunlit room, with a line of beds and wardrobes.

"This will be your room for the duration of your employment," he said. "Yours is the first bunk on the left. There's a maid's uniform in the top drawer, though the rest of the Quinns are not particularly strict about attire, the mistress is." It sounded like a warning. "The bathroom is outside the sleeping area." He pointed at a door to the right. "And because we are light-staffed, you'll need to be up as early as four to get the manor ready." He adjusted his glasses.

I gave him a nod, seriously relieved. I mean, after everything, an actual bed? Not the cold, hard floor or that stony couch back home?

"It's perfect. Thank you."

Harlan added. "I'll give you a quick tour of the main grounds before dinner, and introduce you to the others."

So he dragged me through every wing of the house—solarium, breakfast room, game room. On and on. Then a dining hall big enough to host a wedding, and the endless hallways that felt like they'd just put them in to mess with people. Harlan's voice droned on, carefully reciting who owned each room.

I listened and watched.

But more than that—I memorised. I was counting doors. Counting windows. Figuring out where the creaks were and how many steps it took to reach the top of the stairwell and down the hall.

By the time dinner rolled in, I discovered just how understaffed we were. Just twelve people, out of whom I'd managed to memorise the names of five. Everyone introduced themselves alongside their ages. Most of the other maids had worked here in the past, leaving only me and a young girl named Hannah as the new recruits for the time being.

I smiled just enough. Spoke just enough. They were mostly omegas like me, yet the butler and old cook were beta-ranked.

The food was amazing! Grilled salmon, fried rice, and some kind of dessert with a name in another language. Despite the luxuries, my mind was too busy going over my plan in my head.

I waited until well past midnight. I heard the laughter die down. The footsteps faded. The estate fell into a quietness that felt like time took a break.

That's when I quietly slipped out, using my missing pendant as an excuse to roam around.

The halls glowed all golden and soft, carpet muffling my footsteps. I moved straight for my target: second floor, west wing, last door at the end. Nicolo Quinn's room.

I needed to stalk out of the room in order to plan ahead. I dropped to my knees and retrieved the hairpin from my hair—One of the few useful things Johnny ever taught me.

The lock clicked open after only a few seconds.

I slipped inside without a sound. The room smelled like money and secrets. Cedar, patchouli, something smoky. All shadows and pale moonlight on the floor. I scanned the place, looking for... hell, I didn't even know what I was looking for.

Moonlight spilt in through the window, casting silhouettes over the floor. I looked for anything, anything that could tell me why Nicolo was a target, or how I could make what had to happen look like an accident.

But suddenly, the door behind me slammed shut.

And before I could even turn—someone was already behind me.

A hand wrapped around my neck, making me stay facing forward.

I couldn't breathe, and my heart raced in my ears.

His body pressed against my back and I could tell. He was tall, lean and his body emanated heat—and I felt it. Not his breath. Not his grip.

The bond. His scent.

My pulse raced so fast I thought I'd faint.

Mate!

No.

This wasn't part of the job.

I swallowed hard then I tried to move, to look the man in the eye—but his grip only tightened.

He stilled and for a heartbeat, neither of us moved.

Then he inhaled—sharply, deeply—and I knew. He felt it, too.

"Well," he murmured near my ear in a husky voice. "Isn't this a surprise?"

His lips brushed my ear, and I shuddered.

"Are you... Nicolo?" That was all I could manage.

I stared ahead, hands curled into fists, ignoring the damn mate bond that never did any good.

"That's 'Master' to you," he corrected, one hand dipping to my hip and spinning me around. His grip was firm on my waist, keeping us close. And for the first time, I got a good look at him.

Standing over six feet and possibly four inches with broad shoulders and a lean build. He had emerald green eyes, framed by lashes too dark for someone so pale. Dishelved black hair that seemed like he'd been tossing around in bed mere moments ago, a high-bridged nose and thin lips curved into a smirk that seemed a little too smug.

He looked like someone who spent too much time in front of a mirror, searching for flaws and correcting them.

He was undeniably attractive. But, he was young. Too young to be mated to a woman my age.

He stared me down, lingering a little too long for comfort. He looked me over like a man who recognised something he'd ordered in a catalogue, just not in the colour he expected and I pretended like I didn't care about the mate bond. That way, I wouldn't need to react once he rejected me.

"Young master... Nicolo." My voice was dry. "You arrived early."

"Does that bother you?" He asked with amusement, like we were old friends catching up. "What were you hoping to find in here? A watch? Some cufflinks? Or just a scent to take back to your bed?"

I glared at that comment. How vile. Maybe getting rid of him would be doing the world a favour.

"Are you a thief, spy, stalker? Or..." he leaned closer, the corner of his mouth lifting into a mischievous smirk. "...Are you my meal for the night?"