Page 3 of Accept Me (Fate’s Choice #4)

STAR

Present day

As soon as I stepped out of the Uber in front of the auction-and-fair building, my jaw was clenched so tight that it ached.

My lungs felt constricted, my breath caught in my throat, and my stomach twisted with anxiety.

I patted the pocket of my pants to check for my inhaler, just to be sure it was still there.

Out of instinct, I scanned the area around me.

My nerves were on high alert, like they always were whenever I entered a new public space, my mind half-expecting Dino to suddenly appear.

I forced the thought away. Of course, he wasn’t here; there was no chance he’d believe I would show up in a place like this.

Frankly, I hadn’t believed it myself until I was already here.

Even though it was still early in the morning, the parking lot was packed, and a line of people stretched at least three hundred feet in front of the building.

Most of them were here to secure a good spot, hoping to be among the first to enter and get a glimpse of who was putting their marriage contracts up for sale.

Maybe even snag one before anyone else had the chance.

I wasn’t going through the main entrance. I didn’t have to stand in line with the rest, because I wasn’t here to browse. I was one of the people offering a contract, a so-called ‘contractee’.

But there was one key difference between me and everyone else here: I wasn’t here by choice.

The matchmaking agency I had hired six months ago to find me a suitable husband had used some legal loopholes to force me into this marriage contract fair.

If I refused, I’d lose the hefty deposit I had paid them.

The building ahead looked like a massive aircraft hangar.

I had already studied the floor plan online, trying to give myself some semblance of control.

Inside, the huge main hall was divided into sectors and smaller sections, each one dedicated to a different subgender.

Alphas, betas, and omegas all had their own spaces to showcase their contracts.

I had seen coverage of events like this before.

They always attracted a lot of attention, and rubberneckers.

Reporters stayed outside, interviewing people, while some sketch artists made quick drawings of the interior.

Filming inside was strictly forbidden, and the penalties were severe.

No one ever managed to get clear footage of who was offering contracts, and photographs were just as off-limits.

Still, people were fascinated. These events continued to be crazy popular, but also very controversial and often met with public backlash.

Some compared them to modern slave markets, which, in my opinion, couldn’t be further from the truth.

Marriage contracts were business agreements.

Everyone involved knew their rights and responsibilities, and in many ways, these arrangements were safer and more transparent than traditional marriages.

Still, the image of people sitting in glass booths while strangers walked past and evaluated them was hard to defend. It definitely carried a certain cattle-auction vibe. No wonder it stirred up strong emotions.

I moved a little closer to the building, but stayed out of sight of the main entrance and the crowd. I hated being around so many people.

Every face could be… Dino's.

Letting out a slow breath, I pulled out my phone and typed a short message.

"I'm here."

It was meant for Storm Nolan, the case guardian assigned to me by the matchmaking agency. He was the one who delivered the message a few days ago, informing me that if I wanted my money back, I had no choice but to take part in the contract fair.

I stood off to the side by the wall and took out my inhaler. My lungs were starting to spasm. My asthma was the psychogenic kind, triggered by stress. I took a few strained, steady breaths.

Then I saw a tall figure walking toward me from the direction of the closed gates where the crowd had gathered.

Storm Nolan.

The man was a giant. I wasn’t short by any means, but he was on another level, at least two heads taller than me, and his broad frame made him look like he belonged on a superhero poster.

My guess was… purple alpha. He always wore gloves, probably to hide the markings that were characteristic of his subtype, thick purple lines that usually traced the limbs and torso.

He walked with relaxed confidence and a wide smile, his turquoise eyes bright. He looked like someone who had just stepped off a movie set. The last time I had seen him, he’d been stressed and uptight, but now he seemed completely at ease, even cheerful.

He held out a hand in a friendly gesture, but I didn’t take it. I kept my hands at my sides and wore the same cold, deadpan expression I’d had all morning. Like hell I was gonna play nice. He was the one who had dragged me to this humiliating place.

His hand hovered in the air for a moment before he let it fall again. He didn’t seem particularly fazed.

"Good morning. So glad you made it, Mr. Daniels. I’ve got an excellent booth reserved for you inside, one that’s sure to catch the attention of many potential contract buyers. But first, let’s take care of a few quick formalities. Please, come with me to our office."

With a welcoming hand wave, he started walking. I didn’t say a single word during his whole little speech. I had no intention of making this easier for him. I didn’t want to be here, and his bright smile just made me want to punch something.

With a sour expression, I followed him.

"I do apologize for the limited space. Our office is a temporary setup. After the incident a few days ago," he cleared his throat slightly, "we had to relocate this section of the fair. But of course, if you need to rest at any point, feel free to step back there."

Without thinking, I glanced up toward the administrative building of Fate’s Choice.

One of the upper floors was draped in massive campaign banners. They covered shattered windows that everyone knew had been left from the bomb explosion. It had been an attempted assassination of Blue Lowen, the CEO of Malden Pharmaceuticals, the largest pharma company on the planet.

Also technically… my boss’s boss’s boss’s boss.

Storm caught me looking and followed my gaze.

He opened his mouth, like he was about to say something, but then closed it as if he thought better of it.

I had a snide remark on the tip of my tongue about how this place wasn’t exactly safe and how ‘reassuring’ it was to be here, but I swallowed it.

I didn’t want to get into any kind of verbal sparring with him.

Hell, I didn’t want to talk to him at all.

By that point, we had already passed through the gates, and I felt the eyes of dozens of strangers on us, people pressed up against the entrance barriers.

There were more betas and omegas in the crowd than I’d expected, all of them clearly waiting for the section to open where the alpha contracts would be displayed.

I used to think these fairs were all about omegas, but things had changed. Now, anyone serious about a legal, long-term relationship could participate, regardless of gender or status.

Once we made it into the main hall of the building, I didn’t have much time to look around.

I hadn’t yet had the chance to see the omega section, because we were walking too fast along the barrier that separated the cafeteria area from the entrances to the subsections of the exhibition floor.

A moment later, we turned down a narrow side corridor lined with dozens of doors.

Outside nearly every one stood two or three people. Probably other contractees, I figured, judging by how well-dressed they were, clean-cut, presentable. The air around them buzzed with tension.

So many hours stuck in a glass booth, on display like meat at a market, being sized up by strangers? No wonder they didn’t look thrilled.

We stepped into the office.

There was still some time before the fair officially started, but I just wanted to get everything over with and head straight to my glass ‘prison’ somewhere in the hall. Preferably far away from Nolan and his fake grin.

The office was clearly thrown together in a rush. Someone had filled a small, cramped back room with basic furniture. It was dark and unimpressive. Nothing about it promoted confidence in the company's professional approach to its clients.

"Please, have a seat," Storm said, motioning toward the low, brown couch.

Papers were already laid out on the desk, but he picked up a tablet instead and handed it to me.

"This is your copy to sign," he said, handing me the stylus. "Just a short add-on to the original agreement. I'd suggest giving it a quick read, then signing here." He tapped the screen with the stylus.

I gave him a cold look. I hadn’t said a word since I walked in, but that was about to change.

"I’m guessing it doesn’t actually matter what this says, since I don’t have a choice either way. So going through it line by line feels like a waste of time, doesn’t it?" I hissed, each word sharpened with a layer of ground ice.

Storm’s handsome face didn’t flinch. That pleasant smile of his looked like it belonged in a magazine, too perfect to be real.

"As I mentioned at our last meeting, joining the fair is really your only option at this point," he said smoothly. "But it’s not the worst one. You might even meet someone. I believe that’s still possible. You just need to be a little patient and stick it out through the end of the fair."

I narrowed my eyes. Something in the way he said it felt off, like there was more he wasn’t saying.

"What’s that supposed to mean?"

Storm hesitated, like he wanted to explain, but then just brushed it off with a shrug.

"Well, sometimes it takes a while. Not everyone finds a match right away. You might be waiting a bit. Or hey, someone could show interest on day one," he added quickly, though his voice sounded a little tight.