I WANT HIM?

DENNY:

My breath stopped.

He was there. Sitting among the drinkers. Jaden. Jason. The guy from last week. The one who saved me.

The realisation crushed me like a falling wall. They were the same person. The one who shattered that drunk’s head…the same bâstârd I punched at school.

And now, those eyes, cold, sharp, commanding, were fixed on me with the same intensity as that day. His stare pierced straight through the makeup, the wig, the fake lashes.

He couldn’t know. Could he?

There was no way. I had used Becky’s strongest perfume and Denny’s cloaking-cologne before coming on stage. After witnessing his insane sense of smell at school, I didn’t want to risk another exposure from just anyone.

My pulse thundered beneath my skin as I stepped off stage, avoiding his gaze and darting toward the backroom. I needed to escape. I wasn’t ready…not for him, not for whatever game he might want to play with Becky.

But he caught me.

I felt the pull of his presence before he even touched me.

When I turned, he was already there, too close, too composed, too dangerous.

“I hope you are not escaping from me, pretty dear,” he said, his voice dark velvet, the kind that tempts and destroys. “You should be pleased to see me again.”

My throat tightened. His voice was lower now, rougher. Hungrier.

This wasn’t about last week. It wasn’t about saving a girl.

This was something else.

“I…I am pleased to see you,” I replied, forcing Becky’s shy tone.

He hadn’t come for introductions. He came to feed his needs. It was obvious Becky affected him. I affected him.

And I wanted him, too. I mean…the guy from last week.

Thankfully, the bar owner came to my rescue before his plot escalated. Jay didn’t move. His brow furrowed, but he backed away as I slipped past him.

Halfway to the house, I pulled over, cleaned off my makeup, applied Denny’s cologne, peeled off Becky’s dress, dumped everything in the trunk of my car, and drove home.

But Jay’s men were waiting. Not for Becky, I was sure of that. They were waiting for the bully who busted their boss’s balls.

They tossed me inside their car and drove.

I didn’t fight. I didn’t struggle. It would be useless to. Instead, I reserved my energy for their boss.

**************

TEN HOURS LATER: (FROM THE BEGINNING)

“Where is he?”

I heard him roar in the hallway. Jay Corato. Storm of power, fury, and certainty.

The room his men had locked me in was bare. A single chair sat in the centre like a throne of interrogation. No curtains. No decor. Nothing but cold silence.

The door slammed open, and he stood…filling the frame, eyes fixed on me.

“Hello,” I waved from the chair. “I heard you missed me.”

He stared at me, gaze narrowing. Then a slow grin slid across his face.

“Well,” he said, his fingers reaching for his buttons. “You heard correctly.”

He undid his shirt, revealing hard, sculpted muscle, a display so intentional to make my breath catch.

And dâmn it, he succeeded. My eyes dropped for a second before I pulled myself together.

“Why am I here, Jaden?” I asked, voice firm despite the throb in my chest.

“I believe you know why,” he said, stepping forward. That grin of his? Deadlier than ever.

Of course, I knew. I was here to pay for my sins. What I didn’t know…was how he wanted the debt paid.

“How much?” I asked. “How much to fix your balls?”

He chuckled darkly. “So you do know it has to do with my balls.”

His voice dropped. “But you are wrong. Money can’t fix me…only you can. And you will.”

My pulse flinched. God, he was infuriating. And yet, something about his words gripped deeper than fear.

I rose from the chair, jaw locked. “What do you want from me?”

He moved in, deliberate, powerful, commanding. “A lot of things,” he said softly. “But let’s start with this…something doesn’t add up. And it is driving me insane.”

My skin tingled. My heart beat faster. I already knew where this was going.

“What exactly?” I asked.

“You.” He stepped closer. “I’ve seen you fight like an Alpha.”

He took another step. “I’ve seen you walk, handsome, proud…like a king.”

I flinched. Not because of his further step, but from the way he said handsome like it meant something.

“But I’ve also seen you pretty.” He tilted his head, gaze fierce. “Very pretty.”

I stopped breathing.

“So tell me, Denny,” he said, voice low, intense. “Who are you? Because I swear, you smell like the boy who punched me into ruts…and the girl who sang me into them.”

I clenched my fists. My chest rose and fell with ragged breath.

He leaned closer, grazing my ear like smoke. “That can’t be a coincidence, can it?”

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” I said, stepping back, my voice barely holding.

“Oh, don’t play dumb.” He followed. “An Omega pretending to be an Alpha could easily pretend to be a woman. A singer. Becky, for instance.”

“You’ve really gone insane.”

“Have I?” his eyes narrowed like blades. “Then I will find out myself. It won’t be long,” he paused, voice rich with warning. “And if you’re both…then you’re both mine.”

“And if I’m not?”

He smirked. “Then, you’re still mine. Mine to torment.”

“What the hell does that even mean?”

He ignored me.

Instead, he stripped his shirt to the floor, revealing a torso gleaming like a war god’s. Every ridge of his abs flexed with power. The room lit like a chandelier, nearly striking me blind.

And when he pulled out his belt, letting his trousers hang loose on his hips, I understood exactly how he meant to torment me.

I backed up, but there was nowhere to go. The wall hit my spine just as he stopped in front of me…close enough that I could smell his needs, feel the burn of his curiosity…his obsession.

He took my hand. Pressed it against his hardness.

“Feel that?” he whispered. “You wrecked me, Denny. As you. As the singer. You wrecked me both ways. And now…” His hand slid down, tracing my waist. “I will ruin you the same way.”

My breath caught.

“You can’t touch me,” I said, voice trembling. “I am not yours.”

He leaned in, mouth brushing my ear. “You are. You just don’t remember it yet.”

I shuddered. My stance collapsed. “Jaden…”

He kissed me. Hard. Hot.

A kiss that punished and pleased. My thoughts shattered against the weight of it. My knees almost buckled.

“Unless you tell me the truth,” he whispered, breathing in my mouth. “I can stop.”

His eyes searched mine, giving me a way out. But I didn’t take it.

“I am not your singer.”

“You are a liar,” he said, smirking.

Then he spun me toward the wall, his hand flat against my chest, pinning me.

My body sparkled.

“I will pull the truth from you,” he growled.

“How?”

“By fvcking you, Omega,” he said darkly, “until you admit it.“

My entire body jolted. Because the truth is, I was throbbing. Hard.