THE ALPHA'S DEADLY ADDICTION

Chapter 13: Girl Talk

Angel’s pov

I stood outside Quindeck, staring at the storefront like it might bite me.

Through the glass, I could see warm lighting, shelves stacked with books, a coffee bar in the corner, and what looked like fresh flowers arranged in vases throughout the space. It was exactly the kind of place I'd imagined working at in another life—the one where I wasn't drowning in debt and owned by the Russian mafia.

You can do this, I told myself. It's just a job interview. You've survived worse.

My phone buzzed in my pocket. Again.

I pulled it out.

Jason (8:47 AM): Good morning beautiful

Jason (9:12 AM): Thinking about you

Jason (9:45 AM): Did you sleep okay?

Jason (10:23 AM): Angel?

Jason (10:58 AM): Are you ignoring me?

Jason (11:34 AM): It's not going to work

I shoved my phone back in my pocket without responding.

Yesterday was a mistake. A moment of weakness. It couldn't happen again.

Even if I could still feel the ghost of his hands on my thighs. Even if I'd woken up this morning aching and remembering exactly how his tongue had—

Stop.

I took a deep breath, straightened my shoulders, and pushed open the door.

A bell chimed softly.

The smell hit me first—coffee, old books, fresh flowers. It was warm and cozy and exactly the kind of atmosphere that made you want to curl up with a novel and never leave.

The place was empty except for one girl pushing a small trolley stacked with books. She was around my age, maybe a year or two older, with bright eyes and dark hair pulled back in a messy bun.

I approached nervously. "Hi, I'm Angel. I'm here for—"

"The new recruit!" She beamed at me like I'd just announced I won the lottery.

I blinked. "I... what?"

"You're the new hire, right? Angel Steele?" She abandoned her cart and practically bounced over to me. "Oh my God, I'm so excited. We've been short-staffed for weeks and you have no idea how much I need another pair of hands around here—"

"Wait." I held up a hand. "I'm here for an interview. I haven't even—"

"Yeah, yeah, interview, whatever." She waved dismissively. "Come on, follow me. I'll show you around while we chat."

Before I could protest, she was already walking away, gesturing for me to follow.

I hurried after her, bewildered. "I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name?"

"Quinn! I'm the assistant manager. Well, technically I'm a manager because there are three of us, but I handle the day-to-day stuff, the hiring, the scheduling—" She stopped in front of a towering bookshelf. "Do you have experience with inventory systems?"

"Uh... yes? I've worked retail before."

"Perfect." She grabbed a clipboard from a nearby table and started checking off boxes without actually writing anything down. "And you're comfortable with customer service? Making coffee? Light cleaning?"

"Yes, all of that."

"Great. How do you feel about flowers?"

"I... like them?"

"Even better." She grinned. "Okay, so the pay is fifteen an hour to start, with the possibility of raises after three months. We offer flexible scheduling because most of our staff are students. You get a discount on all books, coffee, and flowers—twenty percent, which is honestly amazing. And—" She stopped walking suddenly, spinning to face me. "—most importantly, the vibe here is super chill. We don't do corporate bullshit. If you need to swap shifts or take a day off or whatever, just let us know. We're all about work-life balance."

My head was spinning. "That sounds... really good. But I still need to—"

"Interview, right." Quinn started walking again, leading me through a maze of bookshelves toward the back of the store. "Okay, rapid-fire questions. Why do you want to work here?"

"I need the money," I said honestly. "And I love books."

"Good answer. Most available shifts?"

"Evenings and weekends. I have classes during the day and I TA for a professor twice a week."

"Perfect, that's exactly when we need coverage. Biggest weakness?"

I thought about it. "I'm a perfectionist. Sometimes I spend too much time on details."

"That's actually a strength here. We like things organized." We reached a door marked 'OFFICE' and Quinn turned to face me fully, her expression softening into something genuine. "Okay, real talk. You seem great. Your resume was solid, your references are impressive, and you're clearly smart and responsible. I think you'd be a good fit for Quindeck."

Hope bloomed in my chest. "Really?"

"Really. I just need to verify your references—standard procedure. But if you want to hang out while I make those calls, I can probably have an answer for you today. If you're interested, obviously."

"Yes!" The word came out too eager, too desperate. I cleared my throat. "I mean, yes, I'm very interested. Thank you."

Quinn's smile widened. "Awesome. Make yourself comfortable. There's fresh coffee at the bar—help yourself. I'll be quick."

She disappeared into the office, leaving me standing in the hallway.

I let out a breath I didn't know I'd been holding.

Holy s**t. I might actually get this job.

I wandered back toward the coffee bar, my mind racing. Fifteen an hour wasn't amazing, but with my TA stipend and if I took on some tutoring on the side...

My phone buzzed.

Jason (12:47 PM): Where are you?

Jason (12:47 PM): Are you okay?

Jason (12:48 PM): Angel, you're worrying me

I stared at the messages, my thumb hovering over the keyboard.

I'd been avoiding social media all morning, but curiosity got the better of me. I opened i********:.

My feed was full of posts from last night—Jason's party. Photos of people I vaguely recognized from campus, all of them drunk and beautiful and carefree. Someone had posted a video of the living room, bass thumping, bodies pressed together.

I scrolled further.

Found a photo of Jason sitting on a couch, a brown haired girl on his lap. Gianna. His arm was around her waist, his hand playing with her hair while he looked at his phone.

My stomach twisted.

That's what you wanted, I reminded myself. You told him to leave you alone. You ended it.

So why did it feel like someone had reached into my chest and squeezed?

I kept scrolling.

More party photos. More drunk people. More evidence that the Scarlet District scandal had already been buried under newer, more interesting gossip.

Nobody was talking about it anymore.

I was safe.

At the expense of someone else.

Guilt churned in my gut. I bit my lip and turned off my phone, shoving it deep into my bag where I couldn't reach it easily.

Yesterday was a mistake. I wouldn't make it again.

No matter how much I wanted to.

The office door opened and Quinn emerged, grinning. "Okay, good news and weird news."

"Weird news?"

"I was able to get in contact with one of your references—Professor Chen says you're amazing, by the way—but the other one is apparently on vacation and not answering his phone." She shrugged. "But honestly? I don't need to talk to him. You clearly know what you're doing, and we're desperate. So if you want the job, it's yours. I'll prepare a contract with all the details—salary, bonuses, scheduling, all that official stuff. But you could start today if you want. Like, right now."

My jaw dropped. "Seriously?"

"Seriously." Quinn held out her hand. "Welcome to Quindeck, Angel."

I shook her hand, probably too enthusiastically. "Yes! Oh my God, yes, thank you so much—"

"Yay!" Quinn squealed and pulled me into an unexpected hug. "I'm so excited! We're going to be such good friends, I can already tell."

I laughed, hugging her back, feeling lighter than I had in days.

A real job. A normal job. With normal hours and normal people and no one groping me or making me feel like a piece of meat.

This was exactly what I needed.

Quinn pulled back, still grinning. "Okay, so let me show you where everything is, how the register works, the coffee machine—oh!" Her eyes snagged on something and widened with delight. "Speaking of... your man sure sucks like a vacuum, huh?"

"What?"

She gestured to my neck. "The hickey. It's peeking out."

Horror flooded through me. My hand flew to my collar, yanking it up to cover the mark I'd completely forgotten about.

"Oh my God."

Quinn laughed. "Don't be embarrassed! It's cute. Clearly, someone had a good night."

My face was on fire. "It's not—we're not—it's complicated."

"Ooh, complicated." Quinn leaned against the counter, eyes sparkling with interest. "Tell me everything. Is he hot? Please tell me he's hot."

"Quinn—"

"Come on, I'm starved for drama. My love life is a wasteland. Live vicariously through me."

I shouldn't tell her anything. Shouldn't open up to someone I'd just met.

But God, I was so tired of keeping everything bottled up. And Quinn seemed genuinely interested, not judgmental or gossipy. Just... friendly.

When was the last time I'd had a real friend?

"He's..." I struggled to find the words. "He's rich. Like, really rich. From a powerful family."

"Okay, so far that sounds amazing."

"It's not. His family and my... family—" I stumbled over the lie. "—they have history. Bad history. They're practically enemies. And his parents would never approve of me."

Quinn frowned. "Why not? What's wrong with you?"

"I'm nobody. I'm poor, I'm on scholarship, I work multiple jobs just to survive. I'm not—" I gestured vaguely. "I'm not their kind of people."

"That's literally every romance novel ever," Quinn said. "Romeo and Juliet— Okay, they’re clearly not a good example but they could have worked out if there wasn’t so much miscommunication. Different worlds, forbidden love. They always make it work."

"This is real life, Quinn. Not a book."

She gave me a look. "What does that have to do with anything? You like him, he likes you. Why would you let anything get in the way of your happiness? It's your life, and you only live once."

"It's not that simple."

"Why not?"

"Because—" I fumbled for an explanation that didn't involve strip clubs and mafia wars. "Because sometimes caring about someone isn't enough. Sometimes the world gets in the way."

"f**k the world." Quinn said it so matter-of-factly that I almost laughed. "Seriously. If he makes you happy, if you make him happy, then screw everyone else. Fight for it."

"You don't understand—"

"You're right, I don't. I don't understand why you're running from something good." She pushed off the counter. "But that's your choice to make. Just... don't let fear make it for you, okay?"

My throat felt tight. "I'll try."

"Good." She smiled. "Now come on, let me show you how the coffee machine works. Fair warning: it's temperamental and will burn you if you're not careful."

"Story of my life," I muttered.

Quinn laughed and linked her arm through mine, pulling me toward the bar.

And for the first time in a long time, I felt like maybe—just maybe—I wasn't completely alone.

Later, after Quinn had shown me the ropes and I'd successfully made my first latte without burning myself, I finally allowed myself to check my phone again.

Twenty-three missed messages from Jason.

I scrolled through them, my chest tightening with each one.

Jason (1:15 PM): If you don't answer me before the end of today I'm coming to find you

Jason (1:47 PM): I'm not joking

Jason (2:23 PM): Angel please

The desperation in his messages made something in my chest ache. But it was for the best. If I kept ignoring him, keep my distance, whatever was forming between us would die a natural death. He was a priviledged rihc boy, always got what he wanted. If I ignore him enough, he’d get bored and move on to another girl. I just have to keep this up for a little while more. With my resolve strengthened, I turned off my phone and shoved it back in my bag.

I swallowed down the huge knot forming in my throat.

"Everything okay?" Quinn asked, noticing my expression.

"Yeah," I lied. "I’m fine. Everything's fine."