Sansa's POV
"What's going on here?"
The voice made even me, who was very much still wailing, look up to see who had spoken. I had no idea why I felt disappointed when I realized it was a man who looked well past his fifties, maybe even in his late sixties.
I didn't recognize him. And part of me had hoped it would be someone who knew me. Someone who would sympathize. Someone who would make me feel less fucking lonely.
But the man standing in front of me wore a deep scowl on his face, one so heavy it made even scary Jackson react. Jackson quickly dropped his cigarette and stylishly stepped on it, straightening his posture in an instant.
"Boss," Jackson saluted.
I couldn't even cry anymore, not even if I tried. Something about this man's presence seemed to drain the life out of me, pulling every remaining atom of emotion straight from my body. And scary Jackson calling him boss did absolutely nothing to ease the tension tightening around my chest.
"I asked a question," he said again. "What's going on here?"
Jackson chuckled nervously, his eyes flicking to me, then to his men, then back to the older man. The man's towering height alone made Jackson look small. Insignificant. Like a prickle beneath his shadow.
"We came to drop off the Beta's daughter's suitcase," Jackson said. "But after the news of the Beta's daughter's death…" He hesitated, then shrugged slightly. "My worker got emotional and… yeah. You know how girls are."
He forced out a laugh.
When he realized the man wasn't sharing in his humor, the sound died in his throat. Jackson immediately shut his mouth.
The man who was called boss shifted his gaze to me, and I felt myself hold my breath under it, completely unintentionally.
"And who is she?" the boss asked.
"My worker," Jackson answered quickly. "I was just bringing her back to my restaurant for her shift. She made herself unavailable all through the night, so I'm bringing her back to work an extra shift."
The boss's gaze lingered on me, scanning me a moment longer before shifting back to Jackson. "Your time with her is over. Remit her to my secretary," he said, then turned and began to walk away.
Only then did I release the breath I had been holding.
Who is this man, and why was he capable of instilling fear in me with little to no effort? I wondered.
"But, Boss," Jackson blurted out. "I didn't use her at my allocated time. That's unfair. Let me fill in the time she missed, and then I'll bring her here alongside—"
The rest of Jackson's words never made it out of his throat when the boss suddenly turned, his eyes blazing with fury, and grabbed Jackson by the neck, roughly and tight.
"Don't forget your place, Omega. Just because I made you a free man because of your talent doesn't make you less of what you are."
Huh? Jackson is an Omega?
"Yes, boss," Jackson stuttered through the chokehold. Only then did the boss loosen his grip on his neck, though he didn't fully let go.
"Your breath stinks, Jackson," the boss said coldly. "Is this how you go about your business as a chef? Smelling like this?"
So I wasn't being bitchy after all when I pointed it out back at the restaurant.
"No, boss," Jackson said quickly, fear thick in his voice. "It was just this evening. I was stressed."
Filthy liar, I was tempted to say out loud.
The boss eventually released him, shoving him away with enough force to make Jackson stumble.
"She stays. Next time, keep watch of your workers. Now remit to my secretary," the boss said.
The men holding me immediately let go, bowing slightly.
Only then did relief slip in, thin and fragile, the kind that barely lasts a breath. For a heartbeat, I thought they were letting me go for good. That this so-called boss meant well… until uniformed palace guards grabbed me by my arm.
"Take her to the maids quarter." The boss instructed and began to walk away.
"No," I yelled, finally finding my voice. It came out cracked, raw, barely sounding like it belonged to me. "No, please. I can't be here… I can't stay here. Please let me go."
No matter how I said that, the guards did not slow down.
"Please," I sobbed. "Please, don't make me stay here. I don't want to be here. Please let me follow him."
My gaze snapped to Jackson.
"Please," I begged again. "Let me go with the restaurant owner. I'll work for him. I'll do anything. I'll work every day. Please."
Jackson turned to look at me, clearly startled. For a second, something like hesitation flickered across his face.
Anyone watching would probably think I wanted to go with him because I liked him. Because I trusted him.
But that wasn't it.
At his restaurant, I could plan. I could think. I could look for cracks. For exits. For a way out.
There was always a possibility of escape.
But being at the palace meant all possibilities of escaping were nulled.
Once I was inside, I was trapped.
Not just trapped in a building.
Trapped with Lucien.
Who I have come to realize was possessive, cruel and a narcissist.
And not just wuth Lucien, but Koa too.
The man I had just found out was his brother.
How was I supposed to survive being trapped between two demons?
Panic flooded me.
I twisted harder, fighting the guards, even though their grip didn't loosen.
"Let me go!" I screamed. "Let me go with him! Please! I don't want to stay here!"
My voice was hoarse now. My throat burned.
"I'll work for him!" I cried. "I'll do anything! Just don't leave me here!"
The boss, who had already started walking away, suddenly stopped and slowly turned to me.
"Why are you shouting, Omega?" he asked, with a calm face yet, fury rolled off him in waves.
I opened my mouth to answer.
Nothing came out.
The urge to explain burned in my throat. To tell him I wasn't being difficult and about my situation. That I wasn't really an Omega without sounding like a Psycho.
I just stood there, shaking.
And then a voice rang out behind us.
"There she is."