THE MAID OF MADRID

Chapter 1.

Revon.

“No son of mine will be an Omega!”

My father’s roar flinched through the sterile hospital room. Victory looked down, clearly to hide a smug smile. My mother looked as if she’d bitten into a lemon. Poor Dr. Lewis, who hadn’t asked to be entangled in the Hawthorne family drama, kept fiddling with his fingers.

And me?

I kind of wanted to laugh.

Because my life was so beyond screwed that it was hysterical.

“Um, Mr. Hawthorne, being an Omega is nothing to be worried about anymore,” Dr. Lewis interjected. “It’s true that just decades ago, a lot of Omegas died during heat or labor, but with the advent of modern medicine-”

“Shut up!” Dallas Hawthorne, my father, screamed, making the doctor flatten himself against the wall, nervously eyeing the two bodyguards standing behind us, guarding the door. “One word out of your damned mouth and you’ll find yourself without a job!”

I rolled my eyes discreetly. Looks like I was gonna have to apologize to Dr. Lewis before we left. He didn’t deserve to have all this dumped on him.  

“Three generations of Alphas, and now this happens,” my father lamented. “I knew that he wasn’t the most assertive of boys, and I thought at worst, he’ll be a Beta. But no, he had to be an Omega.”

I always thought I’d be a Beta. Victory was an Alpha, and from a young age, I knew I could never be like her. I wasn’t assertive enough. I didn’t walk into a room and command it. Rather, I stepped into the shadows and watched, observing everything that happened.

And I was okay with it. Not everyone had to be an Alpha. Dealing with ruts sounded disastrous. So, did heats. Society still treated Omegas like shit, and I didn’t want that for me.

I wanted to be a Beta.

“Well, what else can you expect from an adopted son?” My sister chimed in offhandedly. “We might’ve raised him to be one of us, but his blood will always set him apart.”

I gritted my teeth, wishing that the Designation Sheet said something different just so I could retort. But with the word ‘Omega’ staring back at me, there wasn’t much I could do.

“Shut up, Victory,” my father muttered, twisting his insignia ring around his finger.

Everyone in the family who worked for my dad’s company had one, and it was a privilege to get it. Victory, who would be graduating from college next year but already had an internship with the company, wore hers proudly on her right ring finger and constantly mocked me over it.

Victory pursed her lips.

“Doctor,” my dad said carefully. “Will it be possible to seal Revon’s medical reports related to his designation? Or better yet, make them disappear?”

I felt myself get cold.

Dr. Lewis blinked at him.

“Mr. Hawthorne,” he carefully enunciated. “As the director of this hospital, you can absolutely have that happened.”

It was illegal, but this wasn’t the first time my father played with fire. Hell, compared with everything else he dealt with, this one wasn’t even a matchstick.

“Dad, what are you thinking?” Victory asked.

My father smiled, ignoring her. “Then make that happen. The Hawthorne family will not have an Omega son, adopted or not.”

***

Sawhill Preparatory College was one of the most prestigious private schools in the country, and the best in Caveat City. So naturally, every Hawthorne child had been enrolled there since the institution's conception.

It was a good enough school, filled with both the pretentious rich and the lower-class bright who received lavish and generous scholarships to attend.

There was a clear hierarchy in the school. Old money wealth held the Upper rung, and they were the most popular. Then, just below them was a Neveu rich; celebrity spawn, silicon valley heirs, and any other offspring whose parents had the fortune of getting rich in their lifetime. The Lower rung was, of course, the scholarship kids.

And then there was I.

The Hawthorne family was new money. Grandpa founded the conglomerate and grew it enough to be a household name before passing it to my dad. Dad revamped it and made it the giant it was, controlling more than twenty hospitals across the country, two pharmaceutical companies, and even a global STEM-based private university network.  

That should’ve placed me on the Middle rung.

But I happened to be adopted, and not as assertive or posh as my contemporaries, and frankly, listening to them talk gave me a headache. My dad this, my mom that…who had the patience to listen to them go on and on about their parents’ money?

So, that made me very unpopular in the Middle rung, placing me directly with the undesirables.

Speaking of whom, Avery waved at me from across the hallway as soon as she spotted me, sporting an exciting grin. It was a Tuesday, and I’d been absent the day before, so she knew what was up.

I hiked my bag over my shoulder, underarm brushing against the scent patch securely placed over my ribs, and started walking towards her.

My father’s warning rang clear in my head.

As soon as we came home, Mom rushed into the master bedroom under the guise of getting dressed for dinner, but I caught the tears in her eyes. That made me feel like dirt. Despite her treatment of me, she was still my mother. I never liked seeing her cry.

Dad watched her leave before turning to me.

“Tomorrow, before school, you’re coming to my study,” he said, not even bothering to look at me. “The scent patch will be delivered by then. You will wear it every single day, under your arm. As long as you do, no one will know what a disgrace you are.”

I ignored the jab. “I got PE. We change clothes in the lockers. They will notice.”

“Tell them it’s an insulin pump.”

“I don’t think people wear insulin pumps under their ar-”

Before I could get the last word out, a slap ran across the room.

My cheek stung, and I wanted to rub at it. But I didn’t dare move my hands from where they were stuffed into my pocket.

I looked up at Dad, making sure my expression was neutral.

His jaw tightened.

Good. I will never let him get the satisfaction of seeing me flinch. Not anymore.

“You will do as I say, or I’ll ship you off to a correctional facility and wash my hands off your ungrateful ass,” Dad spat through gritted teeth. “You will make sure that everyone you meet will never doubt your designation. You’ll be the perfect Beta. Am I understood?”

Finally, he was looking at me.

I met his eyes, unyielding.

“Crystal.”

Without a word, he turned and left.

“Always knew you were a loser,” Victory muttered as she walked past me, following Dad. “But I didn’t know you’d be a slut too.”

I turned to her with a carefree smile, the one I knew she hated.

“That’s stereotyping, Miss. Hawthorne,” I pointed out, knowing better than to dispute anything coming out of her mouth. In Victory’s mind, her word was the law. “The press will have a field day if they knew the Hawthorne heir was prejudiced against Omegas. They don’t tolerate that kind of thing anymore.”

“Wait until your first heat comes,” Victory grinned, mean and sharp. “Can’t wait to hear you moaning for an Alpha.”

“Victory, I may have been adopted, but I’m still your brother, that’s disgusting,” I smirked, despite my heart racing. It felt like the walls were closing in on me. “Keep those thoughts to yourself, weirdo. Better yet, stop thinking about me moaning, period."

Victory stopped. She leveled me with a glare colder than ice.

“You can pretend to be nonchalant all you want, Revon. You can pretend to be a smartass who thinks the world doesn’t affect him. But I know the truth. No matter what Dad does, you can’t hide forever. Reality’s going to come back and bite you in the ass,” she smiled again. It was so cold that I nearly shivered. “When it happens, I’ll make sure to have a front row seat, and I will laugh.”  

“Woah head’s up!”

The deep, masculine voice came far too late.

I walked right into a boulder and fell on my ass right there in the middle of the hallway with at least a hundred students witnessing my humiliation.