Page 30 of Claiming the Pack's Omega

“Does it fucking sound like I’m kidding? Think about how much money you could bring in. More than you get working as a ring girl for Frankie’s fight club, that’s for sure.” He narrows his eyes. “If you’re not going to do it, I hear you’ve got a pretty sister who’s about to go into pre-awakening soon.”

My face twists into a snarl as I feel my blood instantly start boiling. “Are you threatening my family?” I hiss, my voice low.

“Just telling you your options,” Dom shrugs.

“You’re a bastard. A fucking stupid, manipulative, cowardly little shit.”

“And your boss. I’ve explained the situation to you. You’ve got a choice you’ve gotta?—”

He’s interrupted by the door slamming open.

“What the fuck is going on?” Dom growls, his gaze cutting to one of the other alpha guards he has. Joe? Steve? I don’t remember. I just remember it was a pretty basic name.

“We’ve got a problem boss,” Joe-Steve pants out.

“What kinda problem? Spit it out.”

“We think we’ve caught someone snooping around. Pretty sure he’s a cop.”

“What?” Dom snarls, instantly standing to his full height. “Who?”

“Obsidian, that new fighter Frankie was fond of. Caught him snooping around the new Sorel family drug shipment.”

All that fire in my veins from Dom threatening my sister? Gone.

Now all I feel is ice.

Obsidian is a traitor. A rat. A fucking undercover cop, from the sounds of it.

And I actuallytrustedhim. How could I have been that blind?

Flashes of all the potential signs click into place in my head. How I knew he was hiding something on his phone the night we first talked in the locker room. The questions he was asking about the Sorel family. The way he seemed to not really need money, because no other fighter would be willing to give up a percentage of their winnings to a random ring girl for free.

But beyond all the anger and betrayal I feel, there’s actually an inkling of worry.

A lot of worry, if I’m being completely honest. The Southside doesn’t treat traitors very well. They especially don’t treat Northside traitors well and Obsidian has been integrating himself into the community for a couple of months now.

And now that the Sorel family is involved?

He’s going to die. It’s not going to be pretty.

“This is a fucking shitshow,” Dom growls. He cuts his gaze to me. “Told you there were dirty fucking Northside cops sneaking around.”

“What—” I clear my throat. “What’re you planning on doing now?”

“Interrogate the fucker.” Dom cracks his knuckles, his cigar scent thick and cloying. “Figure out what he knows, what he’s been telling his people, the usual. Then we turn him over tothe Sorels. They’re going to want him alive to do their own interrogation.”

He nods to the alpha guard. “Where’s he being kept right now, John?”

Oh, I guess John was his name. Joe-Steve was pretty close, though.

“The basement of the hideout. Took him there after we knocked him out at The Warehouse and checked him for trackers,” John says.

“Good. Don’t want his buddies finding him before we can hand him over to the Sorels,” Dom nods.

He makes a move to start walking towards the door with John, but my mouth opens before I can think properly.

“Wait—”