The driver glanced at him in the rearview mirror.
"Are you sure you want me to drop you off here, sir? It's still a few blocks from the office."
Eren adjusted his jacket, tugging it tighter around him.
"I'm sure. If my colleagues see me stepping out of a luxury car, I'll never hear the end of it."
The driver hesitated but obeyed. Eren slipped out, his red hair catching the morning light as the car rolled away.
He hadn't gone far when two familiar coworkers appeared. Their eyes widened immediately.
"Well, look at this," one of them sneered. "Changed your hair? Trying to be noticed, Omega?"
"Even if you dye it," James cut in smoothly, his hand clamping on Eren's arm, "you're still just an errand boy. Coffee runner. Don't think a color can turn you into anything else."
Before Eren could pull away, another voice cut in.
"Manager James," one of the women gasped. "Is that Tyler Wang?"
All eyes shifted as Tyler strode up—tall, sharp-eyed, every bit the famous journalist he was known to be. His easy smile didn't reach his gaze when it landed on Eren.
"So it's true. You work here."
Eren froze. The way Tyler said it—half amusement, half disbelief—felt like a blade. James's grip tightened, and the sting of humiliation burned hotter in Eren's chest.
"What are you all doing loitering here?"
The air shifted instantly. A baritone rolled over the group, making the chatter die. Adriel Ulrick approached, his assistant in tow. His Alpha presence was heavy, suffocating, demanding silence.
"Mr. Ulrick," Tyler recovered quickly, stepping forward with a smile that seemed almost rehearsed. "We meet again."
Adriel barely acknowledged him. His eyes were already locked on Eren.
"Hey, Red."
Eren blinked, looking behind him as if the Alpha meant someone else.
"I'm talking to you," Adriel said flatly, his voice carrying weight.
Heat rushed up Eren's neck. The nickname stung—too intimate, too exposing—yet it also rooted him to the spot.
"What are you still doing here?" Adriel's gaze sliced toward James, who let go of Eren's arm immediately, his bravado shrinking under that stare. Then back to Eren. "You have work waiting. Don't make me repeat myself."
"I was just—" Eren began, voice unsteady.
"Mr. Ulrick," Tyler interrupted smoothly, eager to redirect the Alpha's attention. "Thank you again for inviting me to cover the design competition—"
But Adriel didn't even glance at him. His attention remained fixed on Eren, and the weight of it pressed heavier than any crowd's judgment.
"Let's talk business when we're in the office. This isn't the place," Adriel said, his tone carrying the weight of an Alpha's command. The air shifted instantly; no one dared to argue.
"Let's go," the young Alpha added, already walking toward the elevators. His assistant, James, and Tyler fell in step behind him. Two women, sharp-eyed Betas, exchanged curious glances and followed as well.
Eren lingered, tension coiled in his chest. As an Omega, he could already feel the ripple of disapproval rolling off James and Tyler. Their scents—sharp and dismissive—brushed against him like warning claws. Stepping into that small space with them felt suffocating.
The elevator doors began to close. Adriel's sharp gaze flicked over the group, immediately noticing Eren's absence.
"Aren't you coming in?" Adriel pressed the button to reopen the doors. His deep voice curled like velvet over steel. Every eye turned to Eren, and under their stares his throat tightened. His own scent betrayed him—nervous sweetness bleeding into the air.
"We're wasting time," the Alpha snapped. He stepped out, his presence filling the hallway, and closed a firm hand around Eren's wrist. A jolt of dominance pressed against Eren's senses, impossible to resist. Before he could think, he was pulled inside, his scent smothered beneath Adriel's commanding one.
The ride up was taut with unspoken words. James's pheromones flared with irritation, Tyler's with restrained disdain. Eren stood stiff, every instinct urging him to make himself small. Only Adriel's solid grip on his wrist—possessive, anchoring—kept him steady.
When the elevator opened onto the executive floor, heads turned immediately. Whispers swelled through the corridor. Their President rarely walked beside anyone, yet here he was with an Omega at his side. Eyes lingered on Eren's hair, its unusual hue catching the light, and the subtler detail: the way his scent clung faintly to Adriel's.
"Go straight to my office and bring the meeting documents," Adriel ordered, already striding toward the conference room. James and Tyler followed, their pheromones sharp with barely masked hostility.
"Are you the President's new secretary?" Roen, a Beta, asked once the others were gone. His tone carried curiosity edged with amusement. The two women drifted away, leaving them standing alone.
"Do your colleagues know—" Roen began, but Eren cut him off with a quiet firmness.
"No. And they must not know." His voice was low but steady, Omega softness underlaid with steel. He met Roen's gaze directly. "You can keep a secret, right?"
Roen only smiled, tilting his head in wordless agreement.
Stepping into Adriel's office, Eren stopped short. A desk had already been arranged near the door, positioned unmistakably as his new station. But what caught his eye was the small plastic container set neatly on top. Inside were ripe strawberries, their sweet scent already curling into the air.
His instincts stirred, Omega cravings awakening sharply at the unexpected offering. The sweetness mingled with Adriel's fading scent in the office, and Eren's chest tightened. He reached for one berry without thinking, lips curving in a reluctant, fragile smile. For a fleeting moment, the hostility outside the office walls melted away.
The sweetness burst across his tongue, a small indulgence before duty called. As he gathered the documents Adriel had asked for, temptation won again—he slipped one more berry into his mouth, a satisfied grin curling at his lips as he left the office.
The conference room fell silent the moment he stepped inside. For the third time that day, every gaze found him. Whispers rippled at the sight of his freshly dyed hair, its striking hue impossible to ignore. He didn't blame them; the change was bold, and boldness wasn't something his colleagues expected from him.
Unbothered, Eren crossed the room with calm steps. He placed the documents neatly in front of Adriel, and on top, a small sticky note with two simple words: thank you—and a quick smiley face. The President's stern expression softened. Without a word, Adriel slipped the note into his coat pocket, the faintest smile tugging at his mouth.
When the meeting began, Adriel announced that Tyler would be sent temporarily to their branch to oversee the jewelry design competition being held there. The competition, he explained, was open to all employees, and the winner would earn the rare chance to join Ulrick Jewels' elite design team. The room stirred at the news—colleagues exchanged glances, whispers buzzing with excitement. Everyone knew the Ulrick team's reputation: the best of the best, designers whose names carried weight across the entire industry. To join them was nearly impossible. To even compete was an honor.
As Eren listened, his chest tightened. He had joined Ulrick because he wanted to be a designer, not someone running errands or fetching coffee. He remembered submitting his portfolio during the interview—simple sketches, raw ideas, but full of passion. The interviewer had said he had talent. Yet without a backer, his potential was dismissed, his future confined to thankless tasks.
Now, hearing Adriel's words, a flicker of defiance sparked in him. This competition could be his chance—his moment to prove himself, not just as an Omega everyone overlooked, but as the designer he had always dreamed of becoming.