Page 11 of Room 710 (The Scarlet Hotel #15)

Ziggy

Week Two

Week two began with some solo interviews in the vault as the staff checked in with everyone.

They’d done plenty of testing with all of us contestants at the beginning, both mental and physical…

or sexual , rather. They had to know there was a chance of people getting frisky in the house at some point over the long weeks.

Heck, they counted on it! So everyone had to come back clear of all STIs, plus a psychologist’s stamp of approval that we could all handle the stress of the environment.

So these interviews served double duty, as both footage for the show but also to check in with our ongoing mental health.

I was called for my turn just after I’d stepped out of the shower on Monday morning.

“Ziggy, please come to the vault.” It was that sexy-as-fuck voice that vibrated through me. He’d asked nicely, but there was this deep, demanding quality to it that struck a chord with me. It made me want to get down on my knees and obey .

“Yes, Daddy,” I muttered under my breath as I grabbed my last pair of clean underwear…

Yep, you guessed it, the infamous red lacy pair.

I desperately needed to do laundry, but it turned out that I’d brought my procrastination with me when I moved in.

The inner satin layer was smooth over my sensitive bits and cupped me firmly as I pulled them over my hips and adjusted myself with a sigh.

It almost felt like I was keeping a secret as I yanked my baggy track pants on over top, along with a t-shirt, my skin still wet and making the clothes stick.

I ran the towel over my hair but carelessly.

I was in too much of a rush to put a face to the voice. Was he as hot as I hoped he was?

A quick glance in the mirror confirmed there was no evidence of my racy underwear, but I knew, and it made me feel particularly bold as I headed to my interview with the mysterious man behind the curtain.

The vault door was unlocked when I tried the knob. It was the first time I’d stepped into the room, and while it was fairly narrow, they’d made it kind of cozy, with two armchairs and a small table between them. And then, of course, there was the camera pointed at me—hard to ignore that.

Even harder to ignore was the man lounging in the armchair across from me.

I recognized him from online and TV, of course, but this was the first time I’d seen him in person, and I’d never had such a gut reaction to anyone in my life.

I had no idea he was so… large. Elijah Campbell, Lonely Alpha ’s director.

Holy shit, he wasn’t just a daddy—he was a zaddy!

Broad shoulders barely contained in his custom black suit, his thick thighs straining the seams of his pants.

His hair was longer on top and short on the sides, where I could make out just a bit of salt and pepper, and I knew without a doubt that he would make the sexiest silver fox one day.

Where has this man been all my life?

My breath snagged in my throat, and I made a terribly unattractive gargle, and if the man’s attention hadn’t already been entirely focused on me, it would’ve been now.

His lips twitched with the threat of a smirk, amusement making his eyes flash.

It was hard to tell their precise color in this strange lighting—gray maybe, or blue?

“Thanks for coming, Ziggy,” he said, and hearing my name on his full lips made me weak in the knees. I dragged the back of my hand over my lips to make sure I wasn’t drooling. “My name is Elijah.”

“Sure,” I whispered, then cleared my throat and lowered into the seat across from him, crossing my leg to mask the inevitable hard-on I would get just being in this man’s proximity.

I was really regretting my underwear choice now; lace was not equipped to handle this kind of pressure.

“It wasn’t like I had anything else going on.

Which I guess you would know since you make my schedule.

” I laughed awkwardly at my own joke, then shook my head, cursing my idiocy.

I was making a bigger fool out of myself than when I met Devon that first day.

There was just something about him that gave me a glimpse of what he might be like in the bedroom, all take-charge, but the way he’d relaxed his shoulders felt intentional, like he was trying to make his presence smaller somehow, less intimidating.

He chuckled, then licked his lips, and I followed the path of his tongue, subconsciously mirroring the movement like some kind of thirsty kitten.

“I’ve been watching you,” he said, and it came across like he was making a confession.

But of course he was watching, that was his literal job.

He watched everyone. He didn’t mean me in particular.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you in person at last.” He hesitated a moment before offering his hand.

“Yes, you too. Do you mind if I call you Eli?” I asked boldly as I wrapped my hand in his. It was all I could do to contain my gasp. This. This was what I’d been missing with Devon, the instant connection, a physical pull to get closer. Gods, there was nothing friendly about this .

He tilted his head to the side, watching me with an intensity that made my pulse rush in my ears. “Yes, please.” Maybe it was just me and the way I was clinging to him, but he seemed reluctant to let go of my hand, his thumb brushing a gentle circle over my skin before he finally released me.

I peeked down and registered there was no wedding ring.

His fingers were thick too, in proportion with the rest of him, his palm rough with calluses that I knew would rasp over my sensitive skin.

He was so warm that I wished I was suffering from hypothermia just so I could beg him to warm me up.

Dark hair peeked from his sleeve, and I’d bet he had a furry chest, thick enough for me to tangle my fingers in.

“This should only take five or ten minutes. I hope you don’t mind that we’re recording?” he asked, gesturing to the camera as he finally leaned back in his chair.

I shrugged, not sparing the camera another glance. “Wouldn’t make much of an interview if you weren’t.” I told myself it was no different than all the other cameras in the house, even as this interview felt more intimate than anything else I’d done for the past week.

“Why don’t you tell me a little bit about how things have been going in the house.

” He grabbed a clipboard from the table between us, I assumed a list of questions, and propped one ankle over the other knee.

He was wearing shiny black leather shoes, and when his pantleg tugged up, it exposed a flash of his hot-pink sock.

I looked away, fighting a grin. I wasn’t the only one with secret wardrobe choices.

“I was nervous at first, because this is way out of my comfort zone, but it’s been really fun.

I seem to have been elected as the house chef, which is actually kinda nice.

Gives me something to do instead of obsessing over not knowing what people might be saying about me on social media.

” I laughed lightly. “And everyone has been really kind to me. I’ve been making some great friends in the house, for sure, especially my roommates. They’re the best.”

“And what about Devon? Is he one of those friends?”

My mouth went bone-dry. “I-I mean… yeah, absolutely.” I felt the urge to tell Eli that Devon wasn’t anything more than a friend, to clarify that it would never be more than that.

The red light on the camera was flashing at me, daring me to spill my guts, but this was a dating show, so why else would I be here if not to win the alpha?

“Devon is… too good to be true. Any omega would be lucky to have him.” An omega who wasn’t me, specifically.

Eli looked straight at me, unflinching, as though trying to read between the lines. After a long moment, he broke eye contact and looked down at the clipboard in his lap. “You mentioned in your audition video that it’s just you and your mom. I’d love to hear about her.”

I blew out a relieved sigh. This was a topic I was more comfortable with.

I could talk all day about my mom. “Yeah, my mom, Judy, is the absolute best person on the face of the earth. She’s a nurse in the NICU, which is such a difficult job, both physically and emotionally, but no matter how exhausted she is, she’s always given her all as a parent.

Always did her best to show up for every school event, baked for all the bake sales.

She sings and dances—both horribly—but it only makes me love her more.

Since finishing high school, it’s been my goal to take care of her for a change, but she’s a stubborn one.

She doesn’t even like accepting when I try to pay her rent. ”

Eli had this gentle smile on his lips as he listened to me talk about her, and for a moment, I forgot about the camera. It was just the two of us, talking like we were on a first date, getting to know each other.

“What about your other parent?” he asked.

I should’ve known the question was coming, but it still hit hard enough to wipe the smile off my face.

“Oh, my dad, um… Nah, we were better off without him.” Pressure seemed to build in my chest, forcing its way up my throat.

I was so young when Mom and I left, I barely remembered what he looked like, and the one picture I had of the two of us was buried somewhere in a box in the basement.

Whenever I thought about him, it was all raised voices and glass smashing, while I hid in my room.

It made me want to curl up and cover my ears.

Mom swore he never laid a finger on her, but how could I be sure?

She would absolutely say whatever it took to protect me, even from his memory.

When my vision blurred with tears, I looked down at my hands in my lap.