Exception
1172 Words
Kai Lancaster’s POV
The offer I had been waiting for. Yet I knew better than to accept it too easily.
I bit my lower lip looking down. His brows drew together. "What? Is that too difficult for you?"
"Well." I withdrew my phone and held it out, screen glowing between us. "I signed with TJN Pharmaceuticals yesterday. Seven hundred thousand dollars , paid in advance. Years of service in exchange."
I laughed, and the sound cracked against my teeth. My eyes burned, wet and bright. "I sent every dollar to the Shylock before they released me. Right now I own nothing. I don't know how to survive." I paused, letting the silence stretch. "I just wanted to stop running."
Jensen looked at the phone. Then at me. He sat back down.
"Then I can't help you. The government is already forcing me to work with that company. A stranger who might be their spy isn't worth the trouble."
My eyes widened. I let the dejection settle fully into my face. "I'm not a spy.But, thank you for your help, Mr. Hayes."
I turned and walked away.
He didn't call me back.
My heartbeat thundered against my ribs with every measured step. I maintained the rhythm, kept my shoulders rounded in defeat, while my mind began to splinter at the edges.
Why? I had calculated his compassion extensively, had watched him destroy his own advantage to save strangers especially humans and omegas. Had I miscalculated the one variable I considered absolute?
My head throbbed. My hands shook.
How had I messed this up? Of all the things I had accounted for, of all the scenarios I had prepared for, this was the one I hadn't allowed myself to consider. Going back to the beginning. Starting over.
I stopped walking.
No. The plan was airtight. I had simply underestimated the depth of his distrust. A miscalculation.
Suddenly , my phone chimed.
I almost ignored it. Only a handful of people had this number and every one of them knew better than to contact me without cause except for Jensen and the escort agency.
It was the agency.
Date. Time. Location.
Jensen had reconsidered.
I read it twice. The message specified that I must report to the agency first. I stood on the pavement as evening settled over the city like velvet, and I allowed my shoulders to drop for exactly one second before the mask reasserted itself.
The corners of my mouth lifted.
He was breaking his own rules. For me. And he didn't even know why yet.
I flagged a cab and settled into the backseat, tracking the two men who had been stalking me from the back in the side mirror. Amateur surveillance. They thought themselves invisible, these men Jensen had assigned to tail me from the hospital. Probably still suspicious of me.
They would report my route, my apartment, my patterns. Let them. He had already run my background thorough enough to include the fabricated hospital records in Ashford, the actress playing my mother, and the entire drama production. Precisely what I expected, he fell.
But he still didn't fully trust me.
I laughed. The driver glanced at me in the rearview mirror with open concern.
He had no idea I had the love of my life within reach at last.
*
"Why are you late? Did you forget you had a wax appointment?"
Jamie, my assigned manager at the escort agency, was already pulling me through the door before I had fully stepped inside, dragging me into a room lined floor to ceiling with clothing racks.
He was fem presenting, immaculately groomed, and currently looking at me like I had personally ruined his evening.
"Mr. Jensen hates body hair. Do you understand what I'm telling you? He is our biggest client." He turned back to the rack, flipping through hangers with aggressive efficiency. "You are beautiful but so unbelievably stupid."
I watched him.
An omega speaking to me like that. My wolf bristled with quiet offense. I could have ended the man in under three seconds without raising my voice.
Instead I stood still and let him talk.
For Jensen. I didn't mind.
"I waxed already," I said. "Don't worry."
He turned around and stared at me. Then he sighed deeply, seemingly annoyed by me . He shoved a garment into my chest and walked out. "So lucky he handpicked you."
I looked down at what he had given me.
Jensen liked his boys dressed a certain way. Glam on the surface. Something pervy and sexually explicit on the inside . I changed without complaint.
*
The hotel sat in the heart of Crestwood District, the kind of building that didn't need a sign because everyone already knew what it was. I stepped through the lobby and for once didn't have to act poor, the agency had dressed me well enough that I simply did.
His room was the presidential suite.
I stood outside the door for a moment, rubbing my palms against my pants. Ridiculous. I had planned this for years and my hands were sweating outside a hotel room door.
I swiped the key card.
He was seated by the window, one leg crossed over the other, a glass of champagne resting loosely in his fingers. His silk robe had fallen open at the knee, pearl white skin catching the low light. He wasn't looking at me.
My wolf went very still. Years of discipline and celibacy and carefully maintained distance and still the smallest thing turned me on.
"Come here," he said without turning.
I moved toward him. He stopped me with a single raised finger, redirecting me without vocabulary, without effort.
"Kneel."
I descended. My knees met the carpet without hesitation.
He turned then. For the first time that evening, he looked at me with something other than professional suspicion. The beauty mark on his nose, the one he typically concealed beneath cosmetics, remained exposed tonight. He smiled, and it transformed his face from handsome into something devastating.
"Good boy." The words resonated in my ears. He tilted his head, studying me like a specimen he had decided to keep. "Now crawl."
I crossed the distance on my hands and knees, the motion deliberate, unhurried, until I positioned myself between his parted thighs.
He leaned forward. His finger traced my jawline with excruciating slowness, as though time had ceased to matter, as though the world outside this room had ceased to exist.
"Since you can't quit TJN because you owe them," he began, "how about I give you the seven hundred thousand instead. You owe me rather than them." His finger traveled slowly down my throat. He curled it into my collar and pulled me closer.
"I won't beat you to collect." His voice dropped. "You just have to f**k me crazy. Eight thousand per visit, paid off clean, and it comes with bonuses." He studied my face from inches away.
"So." His thumb pressed against my lower lip, parting it slightly. "What is your answer?"
- Writer
