Chapter 7

7

C aleb's hands tighten on the steering wheel. "Tell me about your brother."

It's not a request but a command, and I stare out the windshield at the early morning traffic, skyscrapers looming on the horizon.

"Dylan was younger than me by five years." My voice wavers as I think back to happier times when my family was whole. "He had moved into his own place not long before…everything happened."

Caleb takes his focus off the road for a second to look at me again. "What about your parents?"

I swallow hard, memories of their loving faces flooding my mind. "Our dad died from a brain aneurysm when Dylan was still in high school, and our papa passed away six months later from a broken heart."

"Broken heart?" Caleb's knuckles turn white around the wheel, and anger thrums through the words. "He gave up just like that? When he still had kids to take care of?"

"I was angry, too, at first." Exhaustion and numbness creep in, and I prop my elbow on the window ledge to rest my head against my hand. "After the funeral, I had to give up on my dreams and move back home to look after Dylan. But once I worked through the stages of grief over losing both of my parents so close together, I realized it couldn't have happened any other way. Their love was too strong. They were a true bonded pair."

"That's a fairy tale," Caleb mutters dismissively.

"Maybe it's just what I tell myself in order to forgive him." I watch the cars pass. "But I saw the way they looked at each other, how the spark went out of Papa after Dad passed away. He held on long enough for me to graduate from university, then… he joined Dad."

"Sounds selfish," Caleb says, his voice cold.

I rub the back of my neck, where tension builds. "I wouldn't expect you to understand. You're never seen with the same model on your arm more than once."

He smirks. "Someone's jealous."

My cheeks heat. "Like I have any right to be."

His hand lands high on my thigh, warm and possessive. "Jealous anyway, though, aren't you?"

"Yes," I confess, barely above a whisper. "I always thought, ‘Why not me?' Even knowing it was unrealistic on so many levels."

Caleb massages my leg. "Such as?"

"Gender, social status, lack of aesthetic appeal…" I list them off, each word heavy on my tongue.

"Those are all superficial things, Oliver," Caleb tells me, his tone softening. "Just like the people I'm photographed with. I date them because they're the opposite of what I'm attracted to, so they don't distract me. But they're not who I'm taking back to my home. And I've certainly never brought any of them to my family estate."

The words fill me with a mixture of hope and disbelief, but I force myself to stay grounded. Caleb brought me along because I sparked his curiosity, not because he cares about me the way I wish he did.

I clear my throat, trying to move the conversation away from me and back to my brother. "Dylan moved into his own place as soon as he could afford it. He got busy with work, so he was sporadic about responding to calls and texts, but then they stopped altogether."

Caleb squeezes my thigh in a reminder I'm not alone.

"When I went to check on him, his apartment was empty. All of his stuff was gone. When I asked the building manager, he said Dylan didn't pay his rent and was evicted." My teeth clench with remembered frustration before even that sensation slips away. "But I knew if that had been an issue, he would have asked to borrow money, or he would have moved back in with me. I mean, I lived right down the block."

"Evictions don't happen that fast, either," Caleb says, more to himself than to me. "They generally take months."

The words sound directed more to himself than to me, but I respond anyway. "Yeah, I had the same thought. I reported Dylan missing, but the police weren't interested in a runaway Omega, and now ten months have passed with no leads on what happened to Dylan."

"Your brother is why you launched the VanishingVoice blog," Caleb says, connecting the dots.

I lean my head back against the seat. "Since the local precinct wasn't doing anything about it, I investigated Dylan's disappearance myself. That's when I realized he wasn't the first in our neighborhood to disappear and not the first from Sunrise apartments."

"Really?" Caleb's eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

"Over a dozen, just in the last year." My voice gains strength as I share my findings. "I started noticing a high turnover rate of Omega renters, especially from the room on the third floor at the end. And moving trucks showed up late at night, at unusual times. Certain rooms received frequent visitors from Alphas, too, different men and women every day."

Caleb's grip on my leg turns painful. "Third floor at the end?"

"Yeah. That was Dylan's room." I take in his tense features. "Why?"

Caleb takes a deep breath. "My cousin's fiancé lived in that complex, same room. He must have moved in after your brother disappeared."

My lips part in a sharp inhale. I remember the little blond Omega, and how he had suddenly vanished a few weeks prior to the building being demolished. His name is in my file with a question mark on it, because he doesn't have any social media that I could find. "Leo Daniels?"

"Soon to be Leo Rockford," Caleb confirms. "He worked at a club my cousin owns, and the apartment manager got wind of it and ganged up with some unsavory people to kidnap Leo and attempt to blackmail my family for money."

Caleb meets my eyes briefly before returning to the traffic. "That's why we bought the building and had it torn down. He wanted to wipe away the bad memory and give Omegas a nicer place to live, as well as bring an Omega Outreach Clinic to the area."

His lips tighten. "That's not public knowledge, Oliver, so it better not show up in a gossip column."

"It won't," I promise, while my mind works to fit this new puzzle piece in with what I've discovered.

We lapse into our own thoughts as Caleb pulls off the freeway and drives toward an affluent part of the city. Through the window, I watch the early morning traffic inch forward alongside us, the haze of exhaust fumes blending with the soft glow of the rising sun.

"We didn't know about the other Omegas from the apartment complex." Caleb's words break the silence, and I flinch in surprise. "We thought the building manager was greedy and jumped on a fast way to earn a lot of money when he sold out Leo. "

My hands fist on my thighs. "The blackmail might have been opportunistic, but that man definitely knew what he was doing. He was facilitating the exploitation of Omegas and helping them disappear."

"Did you tell the cops about it?" Caleb asks.

"Of course I did," I say, my voice dull. "But they treated me like a hysterical Omega. They'd send someone over to talk to the apartment manager, who'd tell them he kicked out anyone caught working on the premise or late on rent, and nothing ever came of it."

I watch the expensive houses pass by. "I suspect the police were being bribed to look the other way."

Caleb remains silent.

Exhaustion sweeps over me, and I rest my head back against the headrest. "Yesterday, Detective Wells told me Dylan's case isn't a priority because he's most likely dead."

When Caleb doesn't say anything, I stare out the window, feeling hollow. "I already knew, statistically, it was unlikely for Dylan to still be alive after so long."

"Is that why you didn't care when I showed up in your apartment to kill you?" Caleb asks, a rumble in his voice .

"I'm just numb to the idea of dying." I swallow hard. "There's nothing left to keep me going."

A bitter laugh escapes, an empty pit opening in my chest. "Maybe I'm more like my papa than I realized."

Caleb pulls into the garage of a stylish townhouse and parks the car before grabbing my jaw and turning me to look at him.

His intense regard burns into me. "Then we'll have to figure out a way to make you want to live."

The breath catches in my throat as I stare back at him, something inside me shifting, a flicker of hope trying to ignite.

As Caleb leads me into his home, I take in the modern architecture and minimalist furniture that leaves few places for someone to hide. Artwork fills a gallery wall, and my fingers itch to check behind them for stashed weapons and secret safes.

It's high-end but not too flashy, fitting for a billionaire playboy without being excessive. Narrow windows sit side-by-side in a row, an architectural detail that also isn't wide enough for anyone to slip through .

Bulletproof glass?

"If you're looking for a way to escape, I wouldn't suggest it." Caleb circles a finger to indicate the room. "There are cameras and alarms everywhere."

"Got it." I wander into the adjoining kitchen, where I find gleaming, stainless-steel appliances, marble countertops, and a high-tech lighting system.

Caleb follows and leans against the large island, watching in amusement as I investigate the barren cabinets before walking to the fridge.

I open it to display sparkling, empty shelves. "Can we order some groceries? And do you have silverware and plates?"

When I turn to him, he raises an eyebrow. "Are you having fun making yourself at home?"

"You said not to run away," I point out.

"You're not going to argue?" he asks, expecting resistance from me.

"Isn't the plan for you to give me a reason to live?" I join him at the island. "That doesn't work if I escape, now, does it? Besides, I only clung to my old apartment because it's where I lived with Dylan."

Caleb looks sympathetic but doesn't offer any meaningless words of reassurance. Instead, he pulls out his phone, opens an app, and passes it to me. "Add whatever you like to the shopping list. "

Bending over the screen, I pick out groceries, both for myself and him. "I expected your house to be bigger."

"Why?" Caleb slides down the island to be closer. "I don't invite people over, and I don't want a house cleaner. So, I'm keeping things modest."

"Modest." I snort, glancing at the expensive artwork. "Do you expect me to believe those are knockoffs?"

"They're investments," he corrects.

I peek at him from the corner of my eye. "What was it like growing up in such a large family estate?"

He shrugs. "Size was necessary with the number of brothers and cousins I have. My parents live in their house in the country to get away from everyone."

"What about having an identical twin?" I ask, the reporter curiosity in me wanting to know more. "What is that like?"

A smile comes and goes. "We used to play tricks on people because no one could tell us apart, not even our mom and dad. It's handy as adults, too, when we need an alibi."

"People are stupid if they can't tell the difference," I say, a bit smugly. "It only took me a month to figure it out. "

"Really?" Caleb raises an eyebrow. "How do you do it?"

"That's a secret." I push his phone over to him.

He chuckles as he scrolls through the shopping list. "A two-hundred-dollar bottle of Sauvignon Blanc? I didn't realize you had such expensive tastes."

"I'm obsessed with a billionaire. I'd say my taste is ridiculously expensive." I shrug. "Besides, I've never had wine that cost more than five dollars, and you can afford it."

"Cheeky. I see you're already in your rebellious stage." Caleb catches my wrist, drawing me out of the kitchen and up a sleek, modern staircase to the second story.

As we reach the top, he opens the first door on the left. "Bathroom."

I peer inside at the pristine polished marble countertops and a glass-enclosed shower. "Very nice."

Next, he ushers me to the door at the end of the hall and releases me. "The guest bedroom."

"I thought you didn't have guests." I step into the room, which achieves a cozy but impersonal feel.

Decorated in shades of gray and deep blue, the room holds a plush, king-sized bed draped in soft linens. A beautiful, abstract painting hangs above the headboard, adding a touch of elegance .

I walk over to the window, admiring the view of a well-manicured garden and a fenced-in backyard. A mature maple offers shade, its branches nearly brushing the house.

My fingers brush over the lock on the sill. "You know, if I were ever left alone in this room, that tree would be easy to climb down."

Caleb comes up behind me, his body pressing against my back, boxing me in. His breath warms my nape as he murmurs, "If you want to sleep in my room, Oliver, you need to ask nicely."

My pulse quickens at his proximity, and I turn to face him, which involves rubbing our bodies together since he doesn't budge an inch.

I stand facing him, our chests touching, and rise onto my tiptoes to wrap my arms around his neck. "Is this how I'm supposed to ask?"

A slow smile spreads across Caleb's face. "It's an excellent start."

I lick my lips. "Maybe you should instruct me."

"Do you like being told what to do?" He cups my waist. "Do you like someone else taking control?"

Embarrassed by how transparent I must be, I glance away, afraid to show such vulnerability.

"Don't do that." Caleb grips my chin, tilting my face up so I have no choice but to look at him. "I want your eyes always on me."

Swallowing hard, I keep my gaze locked on his.

"You were a good older brother, Oliver." His hand slips down to my neck. "What happened to Dylan wasn't your fault."

Unshed tears blur my vision, but I don't dare look away, his intense scrutiny both commanding and comforting all at once.

"You've spent your life putting others first. It's enough, now. You don't need to struggle anymore." His hand moves to my back, urging me closer. "As long as you keep looking only at me, I'll take care of you."

I swallow hard and nod, fear and anticipation mixing inside me.

His expression heats with desire. "Say yes."

"Yes," I whisper.

"Now, kiss me," Caleb commands, his eyes never leaving mine.

Closing the small distance, my lips meet his, and when they don't part as expected, I tease the seam with my tongue, seeking entrance.

When he still doesn't open, a frustrated whine rises in my throat. "Please kiss me back."

A smile forms against my mouth before Caleb takes control, thrusting deep, consuming me. My pulse pounds, feverish desire flooding through my body. The desire between us grows, the attraction undeniable, but I want more.

Shivering, I rock my hips, and my Alpha hardens.

"Please show me your bedroom," I murmur, lips still touching, breathless from the intensity of my need for him.

In one swift motion, Caleb grabs my ass and lifts me. "Wrap your legs around my waist."

Heart pounding, I hook my ankles behind his back as he strides out of the room, past the stairs, and toward the room across the hall.

Finally, Caleb is taking me to bed.

As we reach the doorway, though, a knock echoes from downstairs, followed by a stern voice announcing, "Police. Open up."

Caleb's steps falter, and tension radiates off of him. My stomach twists with anxiety, and I bite my lip. This can't be happening, not now. We were so close to finishing what we started last night.

The knock comes again, louder this time.

Cursing, Caleb sets me down on the floor. "Stay here. I'll handle this."

A sense of loss chills my body, and I lean against the wall, an arm's length away from Caleb's bedroom, thwarted yet again by outside forces.