Page 11 of Claiming the Pack’s Omega (Riverwell Omegaverse #2)

Little did I know, I was wrong. Keeping my head down wasn’t enough to stay out of the Sorel family’s line of fire.

“What the fuck are you saying to me right now, Dom?” I growl, pressing my fists into his desk.

My heart is pounding in my chest. It’s too early in the day for this bullshit. I came here early to do some of the paperwork for the club, not get absolutely blindsided by Dom’s new insanity.

“You heard me. I’ve been in talks with the Sorel family.”

“You’re fucking joking. No fucking way. Does Frankie know about this?”

I think back to the conversation I had with Dom’s cousin a few weeks back about how he wanted to keep the Sorel family out of their business.

“Frankie doesn’t have a say in jack shit. He’s not in charge, I am. And it’s not like I’m letting the Sorels into my turf unsupervised. I just know they’ve been creeping in here and won’t fucking stop.”

“So your solution to them creeping in here to poach some of the girls is to what, just let them in here to do that shit?”

His eyes narrow at me. “Check your fucking tone, Raine.”

“I’ll check my fucking tone when you get checked for a brain tumor. How the fuck is this going to help you? Even if all you think about is money, you can’t be stupid enough to think letting the Sorels in will end well for you.”

His jaw ticks as he stares down at me. “Well, it’s happening. Those stupid Northside cock suckers have been snooping around the Southside more. We’re a small operation. We don’t have the man or firepower the Sorels have if it came down to actually putting up a fight against the Northside.”

I blink at him. “What? What do you mean Northsiders have been poking around here? There’re plenty of Northsiders who come here all the time.”

“I’m talking the cops,” Dom says, rolling his eyes like I’m stupid. “Not just a rich Northsider wanting to get his cock wet. You heard about how the cops came and arrested that one Councilman at that club a few miles from here, right?”

I clench my hands into fists to keep them from trembling.

I know all about the cops going there. Roxie works at different clubs throughout town, and she asked me to cover one of her shifts at one of the other strip clubs she works at.

That’s when I found a poor, young, innocent omega locked away in their basement with a fucking bullet wound in her arm.

I glance away at the wall.

The reason the cops came was because I called her pack of Northside alphas. God only knows what the stupid councilman who kidnapped her would’ve done to her.

But no one knows I was the one that made that call. And I plan on keeping it that way. That sort of cooperation and betrayal to some big players here in the Southside would end up with me dead. Or worse.

“I did hear about that,” I say, my tone even. I’m honestly impressed with how normal I sound.

“Then you get why we’ve gotta have the backing of people like the Sorels,” Dom grunts.

“The ‘help’ of someone like the Sorels doesn’t come cheap,” I huff. “What kinda shit are they making you pay?”

He eyes me up and down in a way that has my blood turning into ice.

“There’s a reason I brought you in here to talk about this and it’s not ‘cause you’re the best at working the books.”

My mouth goes dry.

“You didn’t do something stupid, did you?”

I know his answer before he opens his mouth. He did. He did something that’s going to screw up the careful balance I have in my life.

“I think it’s about time you started working more than one night a week,” Dom shrugs. “And since we’re working with the Sorel family moving forward, I’m not sourcing the drugs you use to keep your heat away anymore. So I think you should prepare to start selling that too.”

“What?” I croak out.

“The Sorels have a whole waiting list of guys who apparently want a piece of pretty young omegas like you. You were the one they picked out when I showed them pictures of all the girls here.”

I blink at him, my hands growing clammy at the thought of experiencing a heat. Being that helpless with alphas I know don’t care about or respect me makes me want to vomit at the thought.

I’d be completely helpless.

At least during my normal work, I have the choice.

That would be completely stripped away from me if I started selling my heats.

“You’re kidding,” I whisper.

“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 actually trusted him. 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 to the 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—”

Dom raises an eyebrow expectantly at me. “We can continue our conversation later. This shit is more important.”

“That’s—that’s not what I was going to say,” I say, blowing my curtain bangs out of my face and running a hand through my hair. “You should have someone look at him before you send him to the Sorels. That way he doesn’t keel over and die before transport.”

What the fuck am I saying right now? The moment I heard Obsidian was a traitor I should’ve deleted everything about him from my memory, including these stupid crush-like feelings.

Helping clean his cuts isn’t going to do jack shit when he’s going to die soon, anyway.

“You volunteering?” Dom raises an eyebrow. “You’ve seen how vicious he is in the ring, you got a death wish?”

“No, I don’t have a death wish,” I shrug, my pulse racing despite my outward casual appearance. “Pretty sure he’ll mostly be unconscious by the time you guys are done with him. Plus, I know you, you don’t have a death wish either. You’ll keep him tied down tight. I think I’ll be fine.”

I have no idea what I’m talking about. I don’t know the real Obsidian. Hell, I don’t even know his actual name. He could kill me or take me hostage or just hurt me.

Why the fuck am I sticking my neck out for this alpha who lied to me? Who made me actually fucking like him?

“Fine, as long as you’re done and back here by the time your shift starts,” Dom grunts. “We’ll text you when we’re done with him.”

The door slams shut behind him and I take a second to slump against the wall.

What the hell am I going to do?

My parents know I buy suppressants. They just don’t know where from or what I do to get them. I can’t just disappear for half a week every few months to sell myself during my heat without them finding out what I’m doing.

And who am I kidding? Anything the Sorel family touches goes to fucking shit. Dom’s involvement with them and their interest in me may as well be the kiss of death.

Is that why I suggested going to help a traitor like Obsidian? Because my life is also on borrowed time now?

I don’t know. I don’t know anything at this point.