Page 8 of Accept Me (Fate’s Choice #4)

Two of them lingered a bit longer. One studied the board with extra attention, narrowed his eyes, and gave me a good look. What was going through his head? What was he thinking?

I tortured myself by imagining some of the typical stereotypes.

Maybe he thought that someone like me would cheat on him, or that I would get bored having sex with only him.

Maybe he decided I’d be unstable, addicted to drugs, riddled with STDs, or incapable of forming a proper pair bond.

Maybe I was traumatized, or a survivor of sexual assault.

All of that must’ve been racing through his mind.

So… after a short pause, he walked away.

Of course! It had to be one of those unfair, generalizing things I kept stabbing myself with.

4:20… 4:30.

The expo was open until five. The crowd had thinned. Only a few people were still wandering around the room.

So that was it.

I didn’t attract anyone. Not even the price cut helped. And certainly my looks couldn't hold them; obviously appearance had its limits when it came to starting a family, which was what most of them came here for.

It was 4:40 now.

The first row of booths had emptied out completely.

Even that omega with no legs had gotten someone to sign his contract.

The whole aisle was clearing out, and the stream of alphas had dried up too.

The staff started picking up the flyers and the Allure-infused cards scattered on the floor. So that was the end of it? A failure.

A cramp tightened in my chest, mixed with a sad relief. Two full days of humiliation and rejection, of sneering glances… all for nothing. But at least I will get my money back, the only consolation.

Well, the fuckers came here for top-tier products, not ‘whores’. I was angry at them, but also… hurt. Really fucking hurt.

And then I felt a subtle shiver on my neck.

As if Fate himself had planted a kiss on my skin.

That man came in from the side aisle.

I noticed him right away, because something about him stood out. I couldn’t say what exactly. There was a kind of purpose to him. He didn’t even glance at the other booths. He moved like an arrow heading straight for a target.

Toward my glass box.

He was tall, around six foot seven. Lean, but built.

Broad shoulders. His movements held the kind of strength that came from years of training.

He definitely didn’t work a desk job. It was hard to tell his exact age from a distance.

Something over thirty-five. His hair was a deep, rich chestnut with a reddish sheen visible under the artificial lights.

He was wearing a black jacket and a white dress shirt, as if he had just come from a funeral.

As he got closer, I could see his face.

Wow. Really handsome. Classic, masculine features, striking symmetry. Almost sculpted.

By now, I was the only one left in my aisle. But he wasn’t looking at the others who were still here in some back rows of booths.

When he stepped right up to my board, I could examine him more closely. His eyes were cold and unreadable.

A wave of unease passed through me. They were almost like… mine. We looked at each other, both hiding behind thick masks.

Now that he was close, standing right next to the board, I noticed shadows under his eyes and the sickly tone of his skin.

Something wasn’t quite right with him. I’d learned to spot these kinds of things.

Every detail told a story. Back when I was escorting, I had to stay hyper-aware of the smallest clues.

Anything that could help me understand a client, anything that might keep me safe, was vital.

Dino wasn’t in the same room, and some of his buddies liked it rough.

The stranger kept looking at me, and my heart beat a little faster. Was he wondering what I was doing here? I must’ve seemed like an oddity. A good-looking omega, left behind at the end? Unheard of. His eyes dropped to read my info board.

I stared at him the way I’d stared at all the others…

cold, almost hostile. I didn’t think he’d stick around.

He studied the details for a bit, but not too carefully.

Then he slowly looked up again. I almost laughed, because it was pathetic, predictable.

He’d walk away any second now, I was sure of it, so I gave him a short, bitter smirk, like I was saying, What are you waiting for?

Go already . I practically projected a snowstorm of fuck off energy.

His face didn’t change, he just looked at me. But since I’d already retreated too far behind the icy wall I’d built around myself, I couldn’t read anything more about him.

Dylan stood by the exit with the other employees. He glanced over and noticed the guy. Immediately, he started walking toward us.

And then… a miracle happened.

The man gave Dylan a small nod. The omega immediately lit up and rushed over to him.

I could see how surprised and excited he was. He’d already stopped believing this would happen, of course. Now Dylan’s eyes were practically glowing—he was feeling hope for both of us. Meanwhile, my own face looked like it had frostbite; I could’ve played the Ice King.

Through the speaker, I heard Dylan’s voice. "Good afternoon, sir. How can I help you?" He put on his best, ultra-friendly smile. "Are you interested in a contract for our Star?"

Ugh. Our Star? He said it like I was part of the Fate’s Choice permanent staff or something.

"I’d like to buy a conversation."

"O-of course!"

Dylan shot me a glance, clearly a little surprised. Every nerve in my body went taut. What was happening? How was this real?

I caught myself staring at the guy obsessively, like a maniac, as he completed the transaction on Dylan’s tablet.

The whole time, I was virtually drilling into it with every scientific tool my mind could conjure up.

Microscope. Measuring probe. Measuring Tape.

Lab Kit. I even analyzed his suit, it was high quality; he clearly had good money.

Shit. Not good.

The problem was… the guy was exactly my type , and that gave me unnecessary hope that he was also… a good person, and might be interested in me for real.

Dylan opened the booth door, and both of them stepped inside. My heart pounded so fast and so loud, I was sure both Dylan and the man could hear it. Not that I could do anything about it.

The moment the man stepped over the doorstep, I took a subtle inhale, only to discover that there was not a hint of his Allure. What a disappointment. He had to be using scent suppressants.

I stood up, but the man didn’t offer me his hand. Hmm. He just stiffly sat down in the guest chair almost right away.

Alright, then…

"Star, this gentleman would like to have a conversation—" Dylan started, but the man cut him off.

"My name is Hunter Nolan. I have a few questions." His voice was very deep, masculine, with a hint of rasp. And damn, he sounded serious.

"I’m listening," I replied in a calm, emotionless tone, keeping my face totally still. It was safer that way, he couldn’t know how much of an impression he had made on me.

"They’ll be personal. Direct. I’ll understand if you don’t want to answer."

"I’ll try my best," I replied, flat as before.

"Are your parents still alive?"

"No."

"When did they die?"

"My father died in an accident when I was fourteen. My dad raised me alone for the next two years, living in my granddad’s house. At that time, my dad met a man. They got married soon after my granddad died."

I paused, fighting to keep my face perfectly still as the tension built inside me.

"Then what happened?"

I hesitated; it took a giant effort to summon the strength to speak about my past in front of two strangers.

"When I was sixteen, we all moved into an apartment downtown."

I stopped again, my whole body painfully stiff. The tension radiating off my body must have been easy for everyone to pick up on.

Lowering my gaze to my hand, I tried to steady myself. I felt like it was crucial to remain calm, impassive.

For a few seconds, I stared at my fingers, adorned with shimmering silver rings, and my nails painted navy blue. Now they were clenched tight, digging into my palms.

"One day, when my dad went to work, my stepfather raped me."

Bam. I said it.

My emotions were erupting inside me, even though all they could see was the frozen surface.

And only then, something strange happened.

Something almost unexplainable.

As I fought to calm my nerves, I had this phantom sensation coming from his side, like he was affected by my words. Deeply.

A ghost of a feeling?

I lifted my eyes from my hands, and our gazes met. His face was still, unreadable, like nothing I said had moved him. But his eyes… deep down, there was something. A flicker of sorrow ? Or was I imagining it?

However, I was almost sure of one thing. His energy didn’t seem as cold anymore. There was something else there.

"I’m so sorry," he said in a quiet, calm tone that didn’t give much away. To be honest, I was somewhat relieved that he answered so concisely. I didn’t want him to comment on it or ask for any details.

Meanwhile, Dylan was staring at me, mouth slightly open, obviously shaken.

I cleared my throat briefly and forced myself to continue.

"I ran away as soon as I could. I went straight to my dad. He worked as a teacher, and he went into shock, but he believed me. Furious, he ran home to confront the guy." Another pause. "And… the guy killed him. Right in front of me. Just shot him in the head."

A heavy silence fell. Dylan swore under his breath, and I stared back at my clenched fists.

As if mirroring me, Mr. Nolan looked down at his own fists, which were clenched too. Could he feel how my whole body was trembling on the inside?

There it was again!

The strange flash of alien emotions, not mine, traveling my way.

It was almost like Mr. Nolan’s energy was reaching out to me, wanting to hug me, embrace me, maybe soothe me?

Yup, I was probably just hallucinating.