CHAPTER FOUR

Isabel

I open my eyes when the sunlight hits my face and close them again right away, absolutely certain I've been run over by five trucks in a row, given how much my head hurts.

Mercy. What happened to leave me like this?

The brutal migraine brings a deep wave of nausea with it, and I end up rolling across the bed until I get my head hanging off the mattress, out of range of throwing up on the cheap sheets I bought with my first paycheck as a cleaning girl.

Was I mugged on my way home?

I try to take a deep breath to remember what could have left me in this state, and when I finally work up the courage to open my eyes again, I get even more confused, since I find all my clothes scattered across the grimy floor of the small apartment I share with Marieta, another cleaning girl at the Red House.

Was it a break-in, and they ended up hitting me too?

The idea seems plausible for exactly two seconds, until my brain starts working just enough to realize there's no reason anyone would want to rob us.

We're two broke girls who can't even afford bread and jam!

With a low groan, I ease myself up out of bed slowly, afraid my body might split in two at any moment from the agonizing pain, worse than any pre-heat I've ever lived through.

My legs protest the second they touch the cold floor, and I have to lean against the wall until the world stops spinning and my stomach decides not to come up through my throat, taking the Mutea along with it.

Mutea...

The name of the medication my father sends every month makes my mind snap open, and suddenly I'm not worried about throwing up my own guts anymore.

“Where are the pills??” I scream as I run around the room, not even feeling the muscle pain anymore over the desperation.

I drop to the floor to find the loose floorboard I use to hide the drug that lets me have a “normal” life.

When I see the empty space, though, I lose all the air in my lungs — and all my strength.

No.

No. No. No. No.

I shove my hand into the hole, feeling around for the dark bottle, and the sigh I let out the second I feel the cold glass against my fingertips is so loud it drowns out the sound of the door opening.

“Are you okay, Isa?” Hearing Marieta's voice makes me lift my head to look at her, still clutching the forbidden pill bottle.

My fear is letting it go and having her vanish, taking every chance I have at a normal life with her.

Not being seen as just a walking womb.

“Y-yeah.” I stammer the lie and force myself to let go of the dark bottle after grabbing a pill and swallowing it dry, then putting the floorboard back in place.

“You don't look okay...” Marieta walks all the way into the room, giving me a full view of her loose, worn gray shorts and the ripped black tank top she sleeps in.

Her long, straight black hair, which pairs perfectly with her warm light-brown skin, is pulled up on top of her head in a loose bun that somehow looks more stylish than any hairstyle I've ever managed on myself.

Honestly, even her raggedy pajamas look surprisingly elegant on her tall body, which has all the right curves.

Big butt and boobs. Tiny waist. Not a single damn bit of belly fat.

God, life is so unfair...

“What happened here?” I finally decide to ask when she makes a face at the mess in the room. “Were we robbed?”

“You don't remember?” Her blue eyes lock on me, and her frown deepens when I shake my head. “Isa, you got home at two in the morning saying everything was ruined and you couldn't stay here anymore. Then you threw all your clothes on the bed while planning to move to Paraguay. When I went to get you some water to calm you down and came back, I found you passed out.”

“Paraguay?” I repeat, stunned, trying to remember what could have made me decide to move to some random country I have zero connection to, so abruptly. “I don't even speak Spanish!”

“Out of everything I just said, that's what caught your attention?” Marieta crosses her arms and glares at me, clearly expecting answers I don't have. “You really don't remember what happened at work yesterday that got you so desperate you wanted to move away?”

“I don't even remember going to work, Mari... Let alone what happened there!” I confess, letting out a dry laugh with zero humor in it.

I run a hand through my messy hair, hunting with my eyes for the little clock that's supposed to be on my nightstand.

I find it fallen under the bed, and when I get closer, I'm shocked to see it's already four in the afternoon.

“I slept the whole day?”

“Yeah. I even tried to wake you up, but couldn't.” She sighs, picking up an old pair of jeans lying at her feet. “You looked dead, Isa! You scared the hell out of me.”

“And you didn't call an ambulance?” I raise an eyebrow, following her lead and picking up the clothes scattered on the floor.

“You got money to pay hospital bills? Because I don't...” She raises an eyebrow right back, shutting down any argument, since she knows perfectly well the answer is no.

“Fair enough...” I mutter, putting the clock back in place before starting to fold the clothes she hands me.

“At least you called our supervisor, letting her know I was sick?”

“I did. She asked you to come to the Red House as soon as possible.” Her hesitant tone ties a knot of dread in my stomach. “Said she had something urgent to discuss with you.”

Oh no.

My legs give out again, and I collapse onto the messy mattress, feeling that hellish headache slam back into me the moment I woke up.

“Do you... think you're getting fired, Isa?” Marieta's question seems to be the final push my mind needed to finally crack open about what happened overnight.

The cleaning.

The documents.

The bathroom.

The “promotion.”

The most dangerous monster in the world calling me little one.

The memories crash over me like a tsunami, and the urge to move to Paraguay comes back full force, along with paralyzing panic.

My life is over.

“The king knows.” I whisper the terrible realization, as the first tear slides down my cheek.

“What are you talking about?” Marieta moves closer to sit beside me, and even though I feel the warmth coming off her body, the cold gripping me inside doesn't ease up one bit.

“I ran into him yesterday... A guard sent me to clean the ex-assistant's office.” I explain, pausing only to swallow down the massive amount of saliva pooling in my mouth. “Everything was thrown all over the floor, and I ended up reading some documents while I was organizing them. I think he saw everything through the cameras... and came after me.”

Marieta frowns.

“Did he fire you?”

“Worse.” I let out a dry laugh remembering my “new job.” “He said I'm going to be his secretary.”

“Secretary?” She blinks, confused. “But... that doesn't sound bad.”

“It's terrible, Marieta! The pill had worn off by the time he found me, so he knows I'm an omega!” My breath catches, and the whole room starts spinning as I get to my feet on autopilot, realizing there's only one thing left I can do. “I'm leaving. Disappearing before he comes to get me with the male who's going to rape me and get me pregnant.”

“Isa, I think you're overreac—”

Marieta's words are cut off by a loud pounding at the front door, hard enough to echo through the whole apartment.

My body freezes when the sound repeats, and I know, even without checking, exactly who's waiting on the other side.

The Alpha found me.