To ruin an Omega

Chapter 177: Necessary Evils

HAZEL

We lay tangled together in the sheets, our breathing finally settling into something resembling normal. His arm draped across my waist, possessive even in the quiet. The room smelled like sex and sweat and something else I couldn’t quite name. Something that made my skin prickle despite the warmth.

I turned my head to look at him. His eyes were closed, his face relaxed in a way I’d never seen before. Peaceful. Almost boyish. It didn’t match the man who’d just fucked me like he was trying to erase every other touch I’d ever felt.

“You should prepare to leave soon.” The words came out rougher than I intended. “I’m sure my mother will not take kindly to seeing you here. And she will come soon.”

His eyes opened. A slow smile spread across his face. “But you ruined my shirt.”

I couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped. “I have a black shirt. I doubt anyone will notice the difference.”

“Smart.” He sat up, the muscles in his back shifting as he moved. I watched him reach for his briefs, then his pants. The dying moonlight through my window cast shadows across his body, highlighting every line and curve. His frame was toned in a way that spoke of discipline. Years of training. A sentinel’s body, built for violence.

Something about the way he moved felt too practiced. Too perfect. Like he’d done this exact routine a hundred times before. It was hot to look at. No matter how many times I noticed it.

We could go again, I thought. It came unbidden and I had to push the thought away.

“So what is the plan?” He pulled his pants up, the button clicking into place. “How do you plan to fight this?”

“Awwwn, are you worried for me?”

He turned to face me, his expression serious. “Of course I am.”

The words should have warmed me. Instead they sat heavy in my chest. Strange and foreign. I sat up, pulling the sheet around my body. “I have two charges against me. Murder and attempted murder. The most pressing one being Milo’s death.” I paused, choosing my words carefully. “I have to rise above it. And to defend myself, I have to make sure his family doesn’t seek vengeance.”

“That’s smart.” He nodded slowly. “Buy them out.”

I smiled. The expression felt sharp on my face. “Buy them out? That’s naive.”

His eyebrows lifted. A question.

“You’re a sentinel yourself. Aren’t you?” I tilted my head, studying him. “You should know the art of war. You do not negotiate with people who have the stronger hand. It will bite you in the long run. In this case, it would probably bite me in the short run.”

Baruch turned to face me fully. His jaw tightened. “What does that even mean?” He paused, then added, “Also, where is your black shirt?”

I pointed to the drawer across the room. He crossed to it, his bare feet silent on the floor.

He seemed awfully curious about this. I wasn’t sure I liked being open about my struggles. But his genuine interest did make me want to talk. It was unnerving to see in real time. How much I wanted to talk to him.

“His family might be vengeful.” I kept my voice steady. Measured. “When has a man ever paid for his crimes and the woman just gets to live?” The bitterness tasted familiar on my tongue. “I’m not a perfect victim. I cannot claim to be one. And if they see a chance to draw blood, I know in my heart that they will take it. I have to do what they will do to me before they have the opportunity to do it.”

He pulled the shirt over his head. The fabric stretched across his shoulders. “Kill them?”

“I don’t want to.” The lie came easily. Too easily. “But it’s a necessary evil.”

I sensed the shift in him. A slight stiffening of his posture. The way his hands paused in smoothing down the shirt. It lasted only a second, but I caught it.

“Are you repulsed? Is it too dark for you to comprehend that I might want the people who want me dead…. dead?”

He crossed back to me in three strides. His hands cupped my face and he kissed me. Hard and deep and claiming. When he pulled back, his eyes searched mine. “No.” His thumb traced my cheekbone. “I understand what leaders have to do to protect themselves and their positions.”

The words were perfect. Too perfect. Like he knew exactly what I needed to hear. Like he’d studied me and memorized the script.

Not that I hated it. In fact, I much appreciated it.

I smiled. “Why didn’t I meet you sooner?”

“Some might say fate.”

I chuckled at that. The sound felt hollow in the quiet room.

His expression shifted. Grew more serious. “What about your sister? Fia? She’s the attempted murder charge, right?” He paused. “With Skollrend behind her, if she wants you to pay, will she not succeed?”

I stood, the sheet falling away. His eyes tracked over my body but I ignored it. I crossed to him and started fixing his collar. The shirt did fit him well. Better than it should have. “Your body does make my shirt work.”

His hand caught my chin. Gentle but firm. He tilted my face up to meet his eyes. “C’mon. Talk to me.”

“My sister is sort of very forgiving if you stroke her patched ego.” The words felt wrong even as I said them. “Perhaps I show her I can turn a new leaf. Be more submissive and on my knees for her.”

“You don’t really believe that.”

I didn’t.

“No. I don’t.” I pulled back slightly. “But don’t worry. That bitch will not get me. I always rise above it.”

“Is that what the business card is for?”

My stomach dropped. Just for a second. Just long enough for him to notice the flicker across my face. “Huh. I… I never realized you could be this curious.”

“If it’s about you, then I always am.” He sighed. The sound seemed genuine. “I just want to protect you.”

I hated that his stupid words melted me. I absolutely that those words made me feel safe, cherished and wanted. But it still made my skin crawl. Just a little. Just enough for him to probably notice.

I hated vulnerability.

I forced a smile. “You can help me by being proactive. Help me find Milo’s fucking family. I’ll deal with my narcissist of a sister.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.” I met his eyes. “Narcissists are too busy thinking about themselves to realize they are being played.”

He smiled then. A real one that reached his eyes. “I concur.”

He winked at me. Then he was moving toward the door. The lock clicked. The door opened and closed. And he was gone.

I stood there for a long moment, staring at the space he’d occupied.

I shook my head and crossed to my nightstand. My phone sat there, screen dark and accusing. I picked it up and scrolled through my contacts until I found the one labeled Gabriel. My fingers hovered over the screen.

This was insane. Reaching out to someone I didn’t know. Someone who’d given me their card at a gala where everything had gone wrong. But I needed this. I needed pieces to move on the board.

I typed quickly before I could talk myself out of it.

This is Hazel Hughes.

Send.

The message disappeared into the void. I set my phone down and turned toward my clutch. The business card. I should dispose of it properly. Make sure no one found it and started asking questions I didn’t want to answer.

I rifled through the small bag. I saw lipstick. A few bills. But no card.

I checked again. Turned the clutch inside out. Nothing.

I must have tossed it somewhere during my time with Baruch. The thought made my cheeks heat. We’d been everywhere. The bed. The floor. Against the wall. It could be anywhere in this room.

I dismissed the thought. I’d find it later. Or I wouldn’t. At this point, it didn’t matter.

My phone chimed.

I grabbed it, expecting spam. Or maybe my mother with a quick lecture about propriety and family image as soon as she has gotten up. But the name on the screen made my breath catch.

Gabriel.

I stared at the notification. One new message. My thumb hovered over it.

Then I opened it.