Apart from the client and his companions, the only others permitted inside a VIP chamber were the servers, chosen according to the client's preference, Beta or Omega. But their role went far beyond pouring drinks. They were expected to entertain.
Now Eric stood before a door marked with a single engraved letter X. His skin prickled, every hair rising in alarm. The X-Class suite was reserved for the highest tier of patrons, the untouchables, the VVIPs.
"Well?" Diego drawled, arms folded, one brow arched. He lounged casually against the wall as though savoring Eric's unease. "Do I need to roll out a red carpet and announce you in, or are you capable of walking through a damn door on your own?" His voice dripped with impatience and biting sarcasm.
"Fuck you," Eric muttered under his breath, refusing to look at him as he steadied his mask in place.
Diego's smirk widened. "Gladly, if you aren't about to sell your holes in there first. Now get moving. And be sure you keep that mask on, unless you want that man coming after you later."
Grinding his teeth, Eric pushed through the door. He'd been inside the VIP lounges before, but this room eclipsed them all. A massive ping-pong table gleamed under low lights, and a private bar stood stocked to excess. It was luxury layered over luxury, nothing like the others.
He was so caught up in scanning the room that he forgot why he was there. Until his eyes collided with a pair of dark, dagger-like ones staring straight into him. His body stiffened, an alarm screaming in his head. The man didn't just look at him, he hunted him.
"Do I have to wait until you're done gawking?" The man's voice was deep, unhurried, the drawl of a predator savoring the chase before the kill.
Eric's gaze flickered to the table; three empty wine bottles, one half-full, and an empty glass dangling from the man's hand. Without a word, Eric walked forward, poured him a fresh drink, and carefully set the bottle down.
"Sit."
The command was soft, but carried weight. Eric obeyed, deliberately choosing a spot as far as possible from the man.
"What's your name?"
"B29," he replied firmly, his eyes fixed on the floor.
"No." The refusal cracked through the room like a whip. "Your real name."
Eric stayed silent, measuring his words. "That's against the rules."
The silence thickened, the man's gaze pressing into his skin like heat against bare flesh. Eric wondered if refusing had been a fatal mistake.
Then, casually, the man said, "I'm Aaron."
Eric risked a glance. Aaron was watching him intently, unblinking. Dark eyes like deep wells in the dead of night. His lips full, beautiful, framed against his sharp features made him breathtaking in a dangerous, magnetic way.
Aaron drained the glass in one swallow. "You're a Beta, I assume."
The assumption was predictable as Aaron's pheromones were leaking, potent enough to overwhelm any Omega. "Yes."
"Come." Against his better judgment, Eric obeyed, stepping closer to the Alpha whose very presence radiated dominance.
"Sit." Aaron's large hand patted his lap.
Eric froze. Every nerve screamed at him. His pheromones were dangerous enough from a distance, but this close, with a dominant Alpha reeking of rut, was suicide for someone concealing what they truly are.
He stepped back, two cautious paces. "That's not my job."
Aaron tilted his head, eyes narrowing in curiosity. "Then tell me, what is your job?" His voice was deep and resonant in Eric's bones.
Eric only then noticed the tremor in his own hands, a subtle quake that spread through his limbs. It unsettled him. He had never been afraid of anyone. Even while hiding his secret. He had faced dominant Alphas before, many who tried to claim him. None had shaken him like this. But Aaron did, not through brute force, but through sheer presence.
That confident posture, the shadow of a smile, those enthralling eyes, the deliberate cadence of his voice, everything about Aaron unsettled him in ways he couldn't name.
And now, for the first time, he wasn't even sure what his role here was.
Lugrid, the boss, always favoured him. Sometimes in ways that made his skin crawl. Often Eric was tossed into clients' laps with no explanation, forced to entertain those who had failed to catch his attention at the bar. He played along; served them, teased them and let them drink themselves into ruin. Then he'd sneer and leave them pathetic in their stupor.
But Aaron was different. The three empty bottles on the table told Eric enough. No man should be standing, sane and steady, after drinking that much. Yet here Aaron sat, sober, lucid and dangerously calculating his responses.
"Come back to me," Aaron's voice cut through his spiraling thoughts. Eric flinched. "You're drifting. I asked what your job was."
Eric's shoulders sagged, defeated. He still didn't know. Slowly, he stepped closer. Aaron watched him with an intensity that bordered on awe, eyes tracking every subtle move.
And then, before Eric could react, he found himself perched on Aaron's lap, his back pressed against the Alpha's chest.
Warm breath ghosted over his ear. Aaron leaned in, his lips grazing the sensitive skin, his large hands locking firmly around Eric's arms. He inhaled deeply.
"W-what are you doing?" Eric stammered, trying to pull back, but Aaron's grip held him immovable.
The Alpha exhaled slowly, lips brushing the shell of his ear, then dragging down the line of his neck. "Is it normal for a Beta to smell this sweet? ..... it's intoxicating" His voice dropped lower with each word, shivers cascading down Eric's spine. "It's delicious."
Panic jolted through him. Eric shoved against his broad chest, trying to break free. But Aaron pinned him with terrifying ease, pressing him deeper into the chair he just abandoned.
For one heartbeat, Eric was caged, trapped in that heavy presence, his body overpowered..
Aaron loomed above him, towering, his shadow filling the room. His eyes burned with unhinged hunger. The deliberate patience in his movements felt more dangerous than violence itself, like a predator circling before the final strike.
And then, suddenly, Aaron's palm cupped Eric's cheek, thumb brushing the corner of his lips. Eric's struggles only tightened the Alpha's hold.
"Why would I let go?" Aaron's breath was soaked with vodka, intoxicating and suffocating. His lips curled into a dangerous whisper. "You're not a Beta… are you?"
Fear gripped Eric's chest. If Aaron has uncovered his truth, it meant disaster. In this room, with this man, no one would intervene.
And then the Alpha's lips crashed against Eric's.
The kiss was violent, consuming, tearing the very air from his lungs. Eric's world spun. His heart thundered. It was his first kiss and it was nothing like the fragile fantasies he'd ever entertained. This was raw, brutal, addictive. He hated it.
When Aaron finally tore away, it was only to ravage lower, his lips branding the skin of Eric's neck, tracing down toward his collarbone. The sensations were fire and ice, terror and ecstasy so entangled that Eric could no longer tell where fear ended and desire began.
And then pain seared. Sharp, merciless, biting into the soft flesh of his collar. His scream ripped through the room, yet unanswered and ignored. No one came. No one dared. This Alpha was untouchable.
Pinned beneath him, Eric felt the world contract, suffocating under the weight of one truth, he might never escape this room alive.
In that moment, whether by pain, madness, or desire, he knew he had been marked by a drunk beast.