9

Vickerry’s POV

Heaven knows the stinging sensation in my ribs was nothing compared to the roaring furnace of humiliation burning in my chest. Every step I took across the floor of my penthouse lobby felt like I was walking on broken glass. I could still hear the annoying whispers of the students, the pathetic, smug look on that Omega professor’s face in the VC’s office, and the submissive apology I had been forced to choke out—it was all clawing at my throat, suffocating me.

Urghh! I groaned as I rounded the corner toward the private elevators, ready to smash the glass into a thousand pieces, but my boots ground to a sudden halt.

Standing by the panoramic windows, his back to me, was my father. Alpha General Havoc Adams. He was clad in his unblemished military regalia, his hands clasped tightly behind his back.

"Did you really do it?" I demanded, my voice coming out as a harsh, ragged snarl. I stepped forward, wincing as my side flared with agony. "Did you really authorize those fucking Gammas to drag me across the quadrangle like a common criminal? In front of the entire school, Dad?"

He stood there like an unyielding mountain of stone, completely ignoring me.

"Answer me!" I barked, stepping close enough, my eyes flashing. "You embarrassed me! You let a nobody Omega and a spineless Vice-Chancellor treat me like a dog from the slums! Your own bloody son!"

Slowly, he turned his head. His gaze was colder than a winter frost, his eyes locking onto my battered, blood-stained face with absolute detachment. There was no pity in his expression. Only profound disgust.

"You are very close to being bundled off to the northern military academy, Vickerry," he said calmly. "One more mark against your name. One more whimper from that university. And I will personally ensure you are stripped of your title, locked in a barracks, and battered until you learn what accountability and responsibility means."

I held my breath, the words dying in my throat. My inner wolf recoiled, sensing the absolute certainty in his tone. And that’s how I knew he wasn't making an empty threat.

Father rarely made empty threats.

Without another word, my father stepped past me. His shoulder brushed past mine, sending a jolt of pain through my cracked ribs, but I didn't dare make a sound. The ddoors of the elevator slid open, and he stepped inside, leaving the room entirely devoid of warmth.

"Fucking hell!" I roared, kicking a velvet armchair near me.

I needed to reclaim my status and blow of some steam. I needed to remind myself who I was. I was Alpha Vickerry Adams, not some disciplined school rag tag. I whipped my phone out of my pocket, my fingers trembling as I speed-dialled Ruby.

She picked up on the second ring, her voice dripping with her usual sycophantic sweetness. "Vick, babe? I heard what happened in the quad—"

"Shut up and listen to me," I growled down the line. "I’m coming over right now. I want you waiting for me on the bed. No undies on. And leave the bloody front door unlatched. Do you understand me?"

A brief pause hung on the line before Ruby let out a low, breathless purr. "Everything is exactly how you want it, Vick. Come to me."

I slammed the phone shut, pulled a cigarette from my silver case, and lit it with a shaky hand. I dragged the smoke deep into my lungs, letting the nicotine burn through the panic in my chest until my eyes were bloodshot and red.

Fuck, I didn't care about the university rules.

More fucks, I didn't care about my father's warnings.

I needed an outlet, and I needed it immediately.

And Ruby’s sweetness would help stable me.

I stormed out of the penthouse, climbed into my SUV, and tore through the streets like a madman.