DENNYJAY TO TOUCH AN OMEGA

DENNY

"Where is he?!"

I heard him roar in the hallway. Jay Corato. Storm of power, fury, and certainty. The heir of the rival clan. The only head my father would rejoice to see served on a silver platter. My nemesis.

The room his men had locked me in was bare. A single chair sat in the centre like a throne of interrogation. No curtains. No decor. Nothing but cold silence.

The door slammed open, and he stood...filling the frame, eyes fixed on me.

"Hello," I waved from the chair. "I heard you missed me."

He stared at me, gaze narrowing. Then a slow grin slid across his face.

"Well," he said, his fingers reaching for his buttons. "You heard correctly."

He undid his shirt, revealing hard, sculpted muscle, a display so intentional to make my breath catch.

And dâmn it, he succeeded. My eyes dropped for a second before I pulled myself together.

"Why am I here, Jaden?" I asked, voice firm despite the throb in my chest.

"I believe you know why," he said, stepping forward. That grin of his? Deadlier than ever.

Of course, I knew. I was here to pay for my sins. I kicked him in the balls ten hours ago.

What I didn't know...was how he wanted the debt paid.

"How much?" I asked. "How much to fix your balls?"

He chuckled darkly. "So you do know it has to do with my balls."

His voice dropped. "But you are wrong. Money can't fix me...only you can. And you will."

My pulse flinched. God, he was infuriating. And yet, something about his words gripped deeper than fear.

I rose from the chair, jaw locked. "What do you want from me?"

He moved in, deliberate, powerful, commanding. "A lot of things," he said softly. "But let's start with this...something doesn't add up. And it is driving me insane."

My skin tingled. My heart beat faster. I already knew where this was going.

"What exactly?" I asked.

"You." He stepped closer. "I've seen you fight like an Alpha."

He took another step. "I've seen you walk, handsome, proud...like a king."

I flinched. Not because of his further step, but from the way he said handsome like it meant something.

"But I've also seen you pretty." He tilted his head, gaze fierce. "Very pretty."

I stopped breathing.

"So tell me, Denny," he said, voice low, intense. "Who are you? Because I swear, you smell like the boy who punched me into ruts...and the girl who sang me into them."

I clenched my fists. My chest rose and fell with ragged breath.