Chapter 3: No Memory

RYLEE P.O.V

I woke the next morning to find myself lying on a white bed. I hastily sat up, trying to remember what had happened the previous night. I had been mopping when Elizabeth called, asking if I had found out about Nash's betrayal. He had gotten engaged to our Beta's daughter.

Tears welled in my eyes as the memory came flooding back. But when I looked around the room, I wondered what I was doing here.

When I tried to get out of bed, a sharp pain between my legs made me freeze. Someone had used me in my broken state.

"Oh no! Who used me?" I cried, as I had no memory of the man I'd slept with last night.

I searched the room for my phone. It sat on the nightstand, placed on top of a white note.

The note read: "Thanks for last night. Here's a check for ten million as your compensation for the wonderful sex."

"Damn it. Who is this person? How can I not remember him?" I was enraged. I had lost my virginity to a total stranger, and I had no memory of him.

The man must be a rich escort. How else did he write this check? Was it real or fake? I took a second look at the check for ten million.

"Well, I'll have to go to the pack's bank to find out," I muttered to myself, tucking the check into my skirt pocket.

My shirt was ruined, missing a few buttons. I decided I needed another shirt, since I worked at the pack's hotel.

I called Elizabeth to apologize for the previous day's events. I knew it wasn't her fault. She had a mate while I had none. I was never jealous of her, but in my brokenness, I had hurt her feelings.

When she picked up, I said, "Hello, Elizabeth. I'm sorry about what happened last night."

"It's okay, Rylee. You don't have to beg me. Where are you?" Elizabeth asked, knowing I hadn't returned home.

"I'm somewhere special. I think I hooked up with someone last night, but I can't remember who it was," I told her, rubbing my temples.

"Oh my goodness! Rylee, how could you lose yourself like that? This is serious. Anyway, I'm coming to pick you up. Can you send me the hotel details? Or is it the pack's hotel? Do you have the money to pay for the night, or did the person already pay?"

I gazed at the check in my right palm and thought against telling Elizabeth. What if it was fake?

"I don't know, but I still have some money left in my bag. I'm not that broke," I said, remembering how foolishly I had supported Nash out of love.

"It's okay, Rylee. I'll be at the pack's hotel soon. Wait for me," Elizabeth said, then hung up.

I sighed and got out of bed.

I moved to the mirror. Scratch marks covered my body.

I tried to think deeply about the man I had met at the club. Who was he? Did he use any protection?

Oh no! I needed a contraceptive pill. What if he was a rogue or something?

My head ached as I tried to recall who I had slept with.

I looked at my neck, recalling that the person had the audacity to mark me. I massaged the sore wound. "Why can't I remember him?"

Sighing, I went into the bathroom to bathe. When I came out, I remembered I had no top to wear. The fụcker had torn my shirt and my bra.

I called Elizabeth again. "Hey, Eliza, can you stop by a store and get me a shirt and a bra? Or can you lend me yours?"

"Alright. I'm almost leaving the house now. I'll get you my top and bra. Wait, what happened to yours? Did someone steal them?"

"No. They're ruined and torn to shreds."

"Oh my goodness! Rylee!" Elizabeth gasped. "I'll get them for you. Hold up."

The call disconnected, and I waited.

A knock on the hotel room door startled me. I wrapped a towel around my chest—there were free towels in the bathroom—and moved to the door to see who it was.

When I opened it, two women, like maids, stood there holding a collection of dresses, bras, and panties on hangers.

"Hello, how can I help you both?" I asked. They looked at me in surprise but shook their heads.

"Are you the woman who spent the night in this room?" the first lady asked. She was a little older than me and didn't look happy to have to serve me.

"Yes, I am. What's the problem?"

The second lady's phone rang out. "Excuse me. Hello, boss. It's a poor Omega in the room you asked us to deliver those dresses to."

"Shut up, you idiot, and do your job, unless you want Beta Fabian to kill you!" their boss yelled over the phone.

"Forgive me, boss. We'll do just that," the second lady begged.

"Then get to it and make sure she picks something nice to wear." The call ended. The second lady bit her lower lip and looked at me with yellow eyes.

"Well, we don't know what's going on, but our boss insisted we deliver all these dresses so you can pick whatever you like and wear it, since you're the woman who spent the night in this room," the second lady said, though she didn't seem happy to serve me.

"Can we come in and put the dresses down? You don't have to keep us waiting," the first lady said, and I welcomed them inside.

"Wait, this is a VIP suite. How the fụck did I get here last night, and who sent these dresses? I hope it wasn't Beta Fabian who spent the night with me. I'm going to kill him!" I growled, glaring at the two women.

They laughed and went to place the dresses on the bed.

"You should count yourself lucky if a handsome man like Beta Fabian had the guts to spend a night with you, you ugly moron," the first lady barked at me.

I glared at her. "If you insult me, I'm going to report you to your boss, and you'll lose your job."

They rolled their eyes at me.

"Whatever. Our boss asked us to deliver all this to you. So we're out of here." The two ladies walked away. They were Delta wolves, and they didn't seem happy to serve me. It was mostly Omegas who worked as servants in this pack.

I shook my head and wondered, "Who sent all these?"