Un Errore Diventato Amore

Jeliah Elias Campbell had three rules in life. Never depend on an alpha. Never let anyone make him feel small. And, most importantly— Never, ever have children. The third rule was the easiest. Children were loud. Messy. Sticky. Unpredictable. And, quite frankly, terrifying. Jeliah didn’t understand why anyone looked at a tiny human being with a runny nose, a screaming mouth, and absolutely no sense of personal space and thought, Oh, I want one of those. No. Absolutely not. He would rather walk barefoot across broken glass. “You’re staring at that child like you want to murder him.” Jeliah slowly turned his head. Kian Matteo was sitting beside him in the back of the black SUV, looking entirely too amused with himself. Jeliah blinked. “I don’t want to murder him.” Kian raised an eyebrow. “You look like you’re planning his funeral.” “I’m simply observing.” “You’re glaring.” “I’m not glaring.” “You’ve been glaring at that child for five minutes.” Jeliah looked back through the tinted window. The little boy was sitting on a bench outside the café, swinging his legs while his mother tried to feed him something that appeared to be chocolate cake. The child dropped half of it on his shirt. Then he laughed. Jeliah shuddered. “See?” Kian burst out laughing. “See what?” “He dropped food on himself.” “He’s four.” “Exactly.” Kian shook his head. “You’re unbelievable.” “I don’t like children.” “You don’t like anything that makes noise.” “I like you.” “I’m loud.” “I tolerate you.” “That’s not the same thing.” “It’s the closest thing you’ll ever get.” Kian laughed again, leaning his head against the leather seat. “One day, Jeliah, you’re going to have three children.” Jeliah’s face twisted in absolute horror. “Don’t say things like that.” “I’m serious.” “I would rather die.” “You can’t avoid your biological instincts forever.” “Watch me.” Kian grinned. “You know you’re an omega, right?” “Unfortunately.” “With a perfectly functioning body.” “Unfortunately.” “And one day you’re going to meet an alpha who—” “Stop.” “—will make you want—” “Stop.” “—to have a little family—” “Kian.” “—with tiny little green-eyed babies running around your house.” Jeliah looked at him. There was a long, terrifying silence. Then he said very calmly, “If you don’t shut up, I’m throwing you out of this moving car.” Kian laughed so hard that the driver glanced at them through the rearview mirror. Jeliah turned toward the window again. His reflection stared back at him. Green eyes. Dark lashes. Sharp cheekbones. Soft lips. A face that magazines loved. A face that brands paid millions to put on billboards. A face that strangers recognized before they even knew his name. Jeliah Elias Campbell. Twenty-four years old. Omega. Model. And, according to practically every fashion magazine in the country, one of the most beautiful men alive. Jeliah stared at himself for a moment. Sometimes, he wondered what people would think if they knew what existed behind the face plastered across their cities. Would they still call him beautiful? Probably not. Because beauty didn’t erase scars. It only taught people how to hide them better. His phone vibrated. Jeliah pulled it from his pocket. MOTHER ❤️ A smile immediately appeared on his face. He answered. “Hi, Mom.” “Are you on your way?” Her voice instantly softened something inside him. “Yes.” “Did you eat?” “Yes.” “Properly?” “Mom.” “That means no.” “I had coffee.” “Coffee isn’t food.” “It has calories.” “Jeliah.” He laughed. “I’m joking. I’ll eat when I get there.” “You’d better.” “I will.” There was a brief pause. Then she asked, “Are you coming home tonight?” Jeliah’s smile faded slightly. Home. That word had always been complicated. His mother’s house was home. His childhood house was not. And his father’s house? That place had never felt like anything except a building he was forced to exist in. “Yes,” he finally answered. “I’ll be there.” “Good. I made your favorite.” “What?” “Your mother’s recipe.” His chest tightened. “You made—” “Yes.” “I love you.” “I love you too, baby.” The call ended. Jeliah stared at his phone. Kian watched him quietly. “You okay?” Jeliah nodded. “Yeah.” Kian knew better than to push. He simply reached across the seat and squeezed his shoulder. Jeliah smiled faintly. His mother. Technically, she wasn’t his biological mother. But blood had never mattered to Jeliah. Not when it came to her. His stepmother had been the first person to hold him after his biological mother died. She had been the one who changed his clothes. Fed him. Held him through nightmares. Taught him how to tie his shoes. Taught him how to stand in front of a camera. Taught him that being an omega did not mean he was weak. She had never once looked at him like he was a mistake. His father had. Every single day. And perhaps that was why Jeliah had spent his entire life trying to understand how two people could look at the same child and see two completely different things. His stepmother had seen a son. His father had seen a problem. ⸻ Jeliah’s biological mother had been an omega. A maid. She had worked in the Campbell household before Jeliah was born. His father had been an alpha. A powerful one. A wealthy one. A man whose name carried weight in business circles. And one night, he had slept with the maid. Jeliah was the consequence. At least, that was how his father treated him. His mother had died when he was five. And after her death, her family had insisted that Jeliah be taken to his father’s home. There had been no other option. His father hadn’t wanted him. Everyone knew it. Even Jeliah knew it. He remembered standing in the enormous foyer of the Campbell estate with a tiny suitcase in his hand. He remembered looking up at his father. He remembered waiting. Just waiting. For the man to smile. For him to kneel down. For him to say something. Anything. Instead, his father had stared at him with cold eyes and said, “Take him upstairs.” That had been their first conversation. It had never really improved. As Jeliah grew older, the insults became worse. Weak. Pathetic. Useless. Mistake. Bastard. Omega. His father had a different name for him depending on how angry he was. And Jeliah had learned very early that crying only made things worse. So he stopped. He learned to swallow his tears. He learned to smile. He learned to laugh. He learned to become so cheerful that nobody could tell how terrified he was underneath it. Except his stepmother. She always knew. She had been a former model herself. Beautiful. Elegant. Confident. She had taught Jeliah everything she knew about the industry. When he told her he wanted to model, she hadn’t hesitated. She had smiled and said, “Then model.” His father had nearly exploded. An omega male model? Embarrassing. Ridiculous. A disgrace. But his stepmother had stood between them. And she had told his father that if Jeliah wanted to model, then he would model. She had become his manager. She negotiated his contracts. She attended his shoots. She protected him from predatory agencies. She made sure he was paid properly. She was the reason Jeliah had become successful. Now his face appeared everywhere. Paris. Milan. London. New York. Seoul. Billboards. Magazines. Advertisements. Fashion campaigns. Luxury brands. His face had become a business. And his father hated every second of it. Jeliah had once asked his stepmother why. Why did his father hate him so much? Her answer had broken his heart. “Some people hate reminders of their own mistakes.” Jeliah had never forgotten that. ⸻ The SUV pulled into the Campbell estate. Jeliah immediately felt the familiar knot forming in his stomach. He hated this place. The gates opened. The car moved through the long driveway. Everything looked exactly the same. Perfect landscaping. Perfect windows. Perfect white stone. Perfectly miserable. Kian glanced at him. “You want me to come inside?” Jeliah shook his head. “No.” “You sure?” “Yes.” Kian studied him for a second. Then he nodded. “Call me.” “I will.” “And Jeliah?” “Yeah?” “If your father says anything stupid—” “He will.” “—don’t let it get to you.” Jeliah smiled. “I’ve survived twenty-four years of him.” “Still.” “I’ll be fine.” Kian nodded. Jeliah opened the door. Before stepping out, he looked at his reflection one more time. The famous model. The beautiful omega. The boy who had survived a childhood he never asked for. He straightened his jacket. Then he smiled. Because that was what Jeliah did. He smiled even when he was afraid. He walked into the house. And immediately heard his father’s voice. “You’ve finally decided to show your face.” Jeliah froze. His father’s voice had always had that effect. He slowly turned. His father stood at the end of the hallway. Tall. Broad. Cold. Exactly as Jeliah remembered him. His eyes moved over Jeliah’s expensive clothes before settling on his face. “Another ridiculous modeling job?” Jeliah swallowed. “My mother asked me to come home.” “Don’t call her that.” Jeliah’s fingers tightened around his phone. “She’s my mother.” “She’s my wife.” “And she’s the closest thing I’ve ever had to a mother.” His father’s jaw tightened. For a second, neither spoke. Then his father scoffed. “Still dramatic.” Jeliah smiled. It was small. Polite. Almost harmless. But his eyes were tired. “Nice to see you too, Dad.” He walked past him. And for the first time in years, Jeliah didn’t stop to wonder why his father hated him. He already knew. He was an omega. He was his father’s mistake. And Jeliah had finally learned something important. Being unwanted did not mean he was unworthy. He had spent twenty-four years being told he was weak. Yet somehow, he was still standing. Still smiling. Still beautiful. Still free. He just didn’t know that everything he thought he understood about his life was about to change. Because somewhere in the very near future, Jeliah Elias Campbell was going to meet an alpha who would look at him and see something his father never had. Not a mistake. Not a weakness. Not a pathetic omega. But a man worth choosing. And that alpha was going to have one very serious problem. Jeliah hated children. And the alpha he was about to meet wanted one.