Chapter 1

The scent of Alpha pheromones seeps past the edges of my mask as I weave between the tables at Velvet Oasis, a tray of drinks balanced on one hand.

A flush creeps up my neck, despite the suppressants I took before starting my shift. Pushing out pheromones in public spaces is illegal, since it affects two-thirds of the world's population, but there's no way to stop what naturally leaks out.

With the poor ventilation in this place and how long it's been open, pheromones saturate every surface from the grimy carpet to the cracked plastic booths, to the peeling wallpaper.

Stupid Tony only gives his waitstaff cheap paper masks and only allots one mask per shift before we have to pay out of pocket. By the third hour, the moisture from my breath nearly cancels out its effectiveness, but anything is better than breathing the pheromones directly.

Despite the dancer on stage doing his best to hold customers' attention, hands still reach out to grab and grope me as I pass. I grit my teeth and keep walking, mindful of the full drinks on my tray. If they tip over, refilling them comes out of my pocket.

Just get through this shift, I chant in my head as I lock my eyes on the table near the stage that my drinks belong to. The tips are shit, but I need the money.

A sharp slap on my ass nearly makes me drop everything before I set the tray safely on the table.

The hand on my ass moves, fingers digging into my crease. "When are you going to stop waiting tables and come be my boy, Leo? I'll give you everything you need."

Richard Ballcrest. VIP member of Velvet Oasis and one of Tony's highest-paying customers. He's also a giant asshole, and the dancers call him Dick behind his back, but never to his face. He throws around too much money to risk losing him as a customer.

"Not tonight, sir." Glad that the mask hides my disgust, I shift away from his touch. "Please excuse me while I deliver this order."

Before my hand can touch the tray, he grabs my wrist, yanking me close.

His thick, sandalwood cologne mingles with the blast of pheromones he sends at me, potent even through my mask.

Rich was already here when I clocked in for my shift, and hours of drinking have left his bulbous nose red and his inhibitions low.

"Don't play coy, boy." He massages my ass. "You're just working here until you can find a wealthy Alpha to pay your way and breed you. I'm offering to do that."

The loud music in the club prevents the people at the surrounding tables from hearing the conversation, but they have to know what's happening just from our body position.

When I glance around, though, no one meets my eyes. I'm on my own.

Stomach tight, I turn back to Rich. "Please let go."

"Or what?" His thick lips curl into a sneer. "Gonna run and beg Tony to help you? Who do you think he'll side with? A little bitch like you? Or the man who bankrolls this place?"

Frustrated helplessness floods through me. Tony takes care of his staff, but he won't risk upsetting Rich unless the Alpha pushes things too far. And a little groping isn't too far in a place like this.

I try to pull away, but Rich's grip tightens like a vise while his hand on my ass presses my slacks against my entrance. "Have you ever had an Alpha take proper care of you here? You feel tight. I'll pay extra if I'm the first to break this seal."

Panic rises in my chest, and I reach back to push his hand away, but the man's strength overpowers me.

"Is there a problem here?"

My heart leaps as Nolan's familiar voice cuts through the noise in the club. Finally, someone to save me from this brute. Tony may let Rich do what he wants, but Nolan owns this place, so his word is law.

I peek up through my lashes, taking in Nolan's tall, broad form as he approaches. The crisp lines of his tailored suit stand out in contrast to the dingy decor of the club, and the clean lines of his jaw look like he just shaved, despite it creeping up on nine o'clock at night.

Cold, green eyes land on Rich's hand on my ass, and Nolan's nostrils flare. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Just having a little fun." Rich squeezes my ass for emphasis, and I wince in pain.

"Waitstaff are not entertainers in this club." Steel hardens Nolan's voice. "Let. Him. Go."

Rich scoffs, but releases me.

I rub my wrist, a bloom of red in the shape of his fingers marring my pale skin.

Nolan's gaze sweeps over me, sending a flush of awareness through my body. "Are you injured?"

I duck my head, my pulse pounding at his concern. "No, sir."

"Good." He turns on the heel of his polished dress shoe. "My table has waited long enough for our drinks. Get moving."

My heart plummets, and I hastily gather up the tray to trail after him.

Of course, someone like Nolan Rockford would never look at me as anything other than a server. He's never touched any of the boys who work here, and I know more than one has given him their card to call after hours. He never takes them up on their offers.

For a real estate tycoon who owns an entire chain of strip clubs, he's a complete gentleman. And I'm just one in a sea of masked, nameless Omegas who work for him.

The bruise on my wrist aches beneath the weight of the tray as I stop next to Nolan's table, but my hand is steady as I set a double shot of whiskey over ice in front of Nolan.

"Is that a common occurrence here?" Nolan's fingers drum against the table. "Customers trying to force themselves on the waitstaff?"

Startled, I glance up, but his focus is fixed on the man who sits across the table from him.

Tony laughs and waves a hand. "Don't worry about it. Rich was just having some fun, right Leo?"

I drop my head, my blond hair falling forward to hide my eyes as I slide a frothy beer in front of my boss. "Right, sir."

Unlike the man who owns the place, Tony looks like he belongs here in his greasy Hawaiian shirt, left open down the center to reveal a stained, white tank top beneath. The stretchy material strains across his belly, and brown curls poke out of the neck, where a thick gold chain nestles amid all the hair.

"Is that true?" Nolan snaps his fingers, and my eyes jerk up to find his gaze now on me. "Leo, is it just in good fun?"

Beneath the table, Tony pinches my thigh, and I flinch from the sharp burst of pain. "That's right, sir. Rich never takes it too far."

Nolan's steady gaze makes me squirm with the need to spill all my secrets, to admit to the times that Rich has cornered me in the back halls, or all the times he's tried to pressure me for more.

Luckily, Tony comes to my rescue before I blurt out anything that will get me fired.

"Our customers know the rules, and if they forget, I remind them." Tony pats my arm. "Get back to work, Leo. I see empty glasses that need refills."

"Yes, sir." Clutching the tray to my chest, I scurry away, my treacherous heart quickening once more.

Ruthlessly, I tell it to be quiet. Nolan doesn't care what happens to me. His only concern is protecting his investment. If someone reported Velvet Oasis's many code violations, this place would be shut down, and that would hurt Nolan's bottom line.

If I make trouble here, that will also affect his bottom line, and I need this job.

For the next several hours, I bust my ass delivering drinks and bringing refills. Rich stays until nearly midnight before wobbling out to his car, and Nolan takes off soon after.

When I go to clear Rich's table, I find my tip stuffed into his untouched water glass. Annoyed, I fish it out and shake off the five-dollar bill.

Cheap asshole was here for over eight hours, and that's all he leaves?

I shove the soggy bill into my apron, frustrated that I'll have to split even that meager amount with the bartender.

At the end of my shift, Tony corners me at the bar, his eyes gleaming in the low light. "Rich asked about you again. Don't think you can turn tricks outside of my club. If you want to sell yourself, you'll do it in the back rooms with the other boys."

Nausea churns in my stomach, and I shake my head vehemently. "We're not meeting outside of work, sir. I'm happy with my current position here."

"You know, the back-room boys make as much in a night as you make in a month, right?" Tony reaches out to tug down my mask. "With your blond hair and angelic face, customers would eat up that innocent look. Hell, let Rich pop your cherry, and he'll pay off that debt your brother left you with."

I flinch from the onslaught of pheromones, stale booze, and cigarettes that flood my sensitive nose and yank my mask into place. Tony really needs to replace the filters in the fans, but as a Beta, he doesn't see the point in spending the money.

"I appreciate the offer, but no thank you, sir." Taking my share of the tips from the bartender, I pocket them. "I'm happy as a server."

"Well, it's no skin off my teeth if you want to live hand to mouth." He scratches at the hair that pokes out of the top of his tank top and straightens. "But let me know if you ever get tired of just scraping by and want to make real money."

I swallow down the bile that threatens to rise. My wages as a server may be shit, but I'm paying down the debt while maintaining some small shred of my pride.

If I start selling my body, then I'll have nothing left.