Chapter 2: The Lawson Account

The voices outside continue, low and careless, while Finn stands barefoot on the marble with broken glass in his bleeding hand.

“The Lawson account clears payment before midnight,” one man says. “There cannot be any mistakes tonight.”

Lawson.

Finn does not know the Lawsons personally. People from Lark Street do not meet families like that unless they are serving drinks, cleaning floors, or being dragged through systems that those families control. Still, everyone in Riverton knows the name. Lawson Holdings has money in private hospitals, registry offices, legal firms, and public charities that portray themselves as helping Omegas while destroying the ones who cannot afford protection. Vera Lawson’s face appears in society magazines beside white roses and engagement rumors, praised as the perfect Omega bride for a future Alpha king.

Finn’s throat tightens.

If the Lawsons are involved, then this is not a random crime by reckless men. It is organized, funded, and probably protected by people who can erase a poor Omega before sunrise.

He backs away from the door until his shoulders hit the wall. Heat surges through him again, heavier and more demanding than before, and a broken sound escapes his throat before he can bite it back. Shame burns across his face the instant he hears himself.

The hallway goes quiet.

Then someone chuckles.

“There it is.”

Finn’s hand shakes around the glass shard, but he holds on tighter.

He thinks of Owen so suddenly that his eyes sting. Owen is only nineteen, too hopeful for the kind of world they live in, still convinced that studying hard enough can lift him out of Lark Street without owing his life to anyone. Finn promised him rent, suppressants, and exam money every month with the confidence of someone who cannot afford to sound afraid.

Tonight, Finn walked into the Harborline Club for forty dollars.

Now men outside a gold door discuss what his body is worth.

Footsteps move away, then stop. Finn forces himself toward the curtains and pulls them apart, but the windows are sealed. Beyond the glass, Riverton glitters below in silver, blue, and gold. Towers rise above the harbor like another world, one built high enough to forget the streets beneath it. Somewhere down there, Owen is probably checking his phone every few minutes and pretending not to worry.

Finn presses his forehead to the glass and tries to breathe through the heat.

His body refuses to settle.

Every scent in the room grows too sharp. Leather, smoke, whiskey, and the heavy trace of Alpha cologne crowd into his lungs. Beneath all of it, his blood searches wildly for something steady, something strong enough to answer the drug and pull the heat into focus. That instinct fills him with helpless, furious disgust. He hates that his body can still want anything while his mind is full of terror.

A new voice sounds in the hallway, and it changes the air before Finn understands why.

“Why is this room sealed?”

Finn lifts his head slowly.

The voice is calm, deep, and controlled, without the lazy cruelty of the men who spoke before. It carries authority without rising, and the hallway responds to it. The quiet outside becomes sharper. The men who laughed moments ago no longer sound amused.

“Private reservation, Mr. Stone,” someone replies quickly. “Nothing that concerns your meeting.”

Stone.

Finn knows that name, too.

Everett Stone is not simply rich. He is one of the men whose decisions move through Riverton before most people finish breakfast. Stone Group owns towers, buys companies, funds campaigns, and employs the kind of private security force the police treat with careful respect. Finn has seen Everett’s face on business screens in train stations, clean-shaven and severe, with dark hair, broad shoulders, and eyes that look as if they never need to ask twice.

An Alpha like that does not rescue people like Finn.

An Alpha like that understands the price of silence.

Still, Finn pushes himself away from the window and stumbles toward the door.

“I asked why it is sealed,” Everett says, his voice colder now.

The pause that follows makes Finn’s skin tighten.

Then another man answers more quietly. “The Omega inside is accounted for.”

The words cut through Finn’s fear and find his rage.

He slams his bleeding palm against the door. Pain bursts through his hand, but he hits it again because pain is better than silence.

“Help me,” he shouts, and his voice cracks in a way that strips the last of his pride from him. “Please. I am not supposed to be here.”

The hallway falls completely still.

For one terrible moment, Finn thinks no one will answer. He imagines Everett Stone looking at the men outside, understanding exactly what kind of private arrangement has been made, and choosing the cleanest path for his own reputation. Powerful people survive by not seeing things they do not want to fix.

Then Everett speaks from just beyond the door.

“Open it.”

“Mr. Stone, that would create a serious misunderstanding.”

“Then misunderstand me quickly.”

The threat is quiet, almost elegant, and somehow more frightening because of it.

A lock panel beeps, then denies access. Someone curses under his breath. Heat rolls through Finn again, and he leans one shoulder against the wall, fighting the weakness trying to drag him down. The glass shakes in his hand, and his vision blurs at the edges.

The gold handle moves, but the door does not open.

A man outside says, “He has already been sold.”

The sentence strikes Finn with a coldness stronger than the drug.

He raises the glass shard and forces his trembling arm steady. If the door opens to the wrong person, he will fight. If his body fails, he will still fight. He survived Lark Street, unpaid bills, hunger, and hidden suppressants for too long to become a signature on a Lawson account.

Something heavy hits the door once.

The frame shudders.

A second impact follows, harder and more violent, cracking the polished wood near the gold trim. Men shout in the hallway, but Everett’s voice cuts through them with a command Finn cannot fully understand.

When the third impact breaks the lock, Finn lifts the glass higher and prepares himself for the worst.