6

The drive took me about fifteen minutes—Darien’s house wasn’t that far off, and Day Sanderson also lived in a good neighborhood. He was the last one on my list—I had this ambitious plan to bring all four of them to the fair.

When I got there, I was surprised to find that this guy, at thirty-four years old, still lived in a single-family home with his parents.

The door was opened by an older alpha who eyed me suspiciously. "What?" His greeting was far from friendly.

"I have an appointment with Day Sanderson."

"And who’re you?"

"Storm Nolan. I'm a representative of the company Day works with," I said, unsure how much his parents knew. Maybe they wouldn’t approve of their son attending a marriage contract fair?

The alpha frowned and yelled, "Day, someone's here for you!"

A thin omega came down the attic stairs. Out of all three clients, this one was definitely the least attractive. He was medium-tall height, probably about 5’9". Holding a cigarette in his hand, he walked past me without inviting me inside, his expression making me feel like a hated repossession agent—and I’d met quite a few of those.

"What's the matter? You're really screwing this up, you know? I've been waiting another month for pairings, and nothing's come of it," he snapped, taking a deep drag of his cigarette.

I studied him closely. Day Sanderson looked older than his age. His complexion was unhealthy, almost grayish, and his lips were pursed in anger. He looked far worse than forty-two-year-old Darien Ferro. Small wire-frame glasses perched on his thin nose didn’t do him any favors either.

His facial features weren’t particularly striking. His overall thinness made his cheeks appear bony and sunken, and his nose sharper. The only redeeming feature was his cloudy gray eyes, framed by long eyelashes, but even they held a hostile unease. His mousy brown hair, slicked back into a tight, high knot at the nape of his neck, added to the unfriendly aura.

Day’s piercing gaze felt like steel blades cutting into me, his brows furrowed so deeply that a long vertical wrinkle creased his forehead. Honestly, it wasn’t surprising he struggled to find pairings. From what I knew, all his contracts had been related to surrogacy—never a typical marriage contract.

"We are aware that your contract is nearing its end, so we have one final proposal: participating in the open fair and auction. These events attract many interested parties, even outside our client base, so the selection is much wider…" I said in my most professional tone. Sure, it sounded scripted, but there wasn’t another way to present it.

Day narrowed his eyes. "I don't feel like sitting in a glass booth to be ogled like a showroom exhibit," he exclaimed, and I almost felt relieved. The tablet under my arm already had the open contract prepared. No need to drag this out.

"Unfortunately, for the contract to be fulfilled on our side—and for you to receive the agreed compensation—participating in one open fair is mandatory."

I knew my tone was colder and less patient than it had been with Star or Darien. But I was tired, missing Damien like crazy, feeling desperate to just finish this meeting and leave.

Day rolled his eyes, snatched the tablet, and stared at the screen.

Then he exploded, "You bastards! A bunch of sneaky fuckers, that's what you are! I told you from the start I didn’t want those damn open fairs—they’re for desperadoes!"

"Your situation is quite difficult—"

He growled angrily, his temper flaring. "It’s outrageous! You accepted my conditions, took my money, and promised miracles! Damn scammers! I only got two pairings, and one of them was with an eighty-year-old!"

"That’s why we’re trying a different approach now," I said calmly, attempting not to antagonize him further. "A fair is a good opportunity to meet someone. I know it’s not the most discreet option, but, honestly, our main service is fairs and auctions of marital contracts. The majority of pairings happen at these events, not through our matchmaking agency."

"I signed your damn form to—"

"I understand, Mr. Sanderson. But if you wanted to completely avoid this possibility, you should’ve signed up for a regular online dating service. Auction and fair houses offer a broader range of services, and in some cases, attending a fair is an obligatory part of the contract. We use every possible method, which is why we’re more efficient and why people continue to choose us. When traditional processes don’t work, fairs are often the only solution."

Day tilted his head and hissed, "You’ve got the talk down, don’t you? How long did you practice that official spiel? You call yourselves expert matchmakers, huh? To me, you sound like scammers. Efficiency? My ass! I only got two pairings—two!"

I pressed my lips together and stayed silent. He had a point.

Day furrowed his brows. "And what if I don’t find anyone there, huh?"

I was tempted to suggest he quit smoking—it made him look ten years older—but I bit my tongue.

"I’m asking you! What if the fair fails?"

"Then we’re obligated to pay a fine. That’s obvious."

That quieted him a bit. A strange, almost sinister smirk crossed his face, and I had a bad feeling he was planning to sabotage the event.

But what should I say? I couldn't predict exactly how the fair would go. Day was the only one about whom I didn’t have a clear premonition. Nothing came to mind—no match, not among my cousins, for sure. Yet, I still had this vague feeling that he should attend the fair.

I sincerely hoped he wouldn’t be the only one without a happy ending, after all…

Day kept that smirk on his grayish face. "Fine. Since you’re putting it that way, I’ll show up," he said wryly. "Let’s see if there are any candidates out there for me."

He took another drag from his cigarette, exhaling smoke into the sky.

"I’d advise you to stop taking pheromone suppressants," I said, pursing my lips slightly. "It might help in your case."

"Oh, why’s that? Can’t I rely on my looks? Am I not fabulous enough?"

"I just… think it might help. Some people benefit from infusing their cards with Allure—it can attract the right person."

"‘Some people, huh? What kind of people are we talking about?"

"Just… many people may have better chances when—"

But he snapped, "Say it out loud, coward! Ugly people, right? That’s what you really meant! I need to lure them in with Allure because I lack in other departments?"

Wow, this escalated way too fast. This guy needed some serious anger management therapy. Day’s hands were trembling, and his annoyance seemed to be only increasing.

"Hm? Is that a problem? I wish that was a repellent factor for all alphas, but yes, I see how you’re looking at me, with that disgusted little look on your pretty face. I’m too ugly for your standards, huh? Is that it? They send me a poster boy who dares to hint I can’t attract a mate based on looks alone!"

Now I had had enough; my patience had reached its limit.

Before I could stop myself, I retorted, "I can't say anything about your appearance; the thick cigarette smoke prevents me from observing you more closely…" I waved my hand to dispel the gray cloud. And made a loud theatrical cough.

No! Wait! Did I really do that and… say that? Out loud? Sadly, yes, I had.

My professionalism had been crumbling ever since I started working at this company.

The omega froze and shot me a sharp look.

"Oh, you bastard… Don’t worry, cigarette smoke won’t blur my vision when I file a complaint about the rude employee of Fate’s Choice! And now, fuck your fair—I’m not showing up! You’ll pay me the fine—"

Oh, no, no. Fuck this guy. I didn’t need him anyway. Ragu had already promised me a job!

So I rudely interrupted him, "I’m here to convey information about the fair attendance obligation, as this is how the company intends to fulfill its part of the contract with you. We want to ensure you find the best partner, and that’s all that matters. My remark was simply a suggestion—smoking is no longer seen as attractive by many people, presentation wise."

"Get out of here before I sic my dogs on you!"

His anger was almost tangible, his eyes like twin lightning bolts.

Okay, right, I admit it—I could’ve been more courteous.

Feeling disturbed, I turned to leave but froze mid-step.

Something he said stuck with me. "I wish that was a repellent factor for all alphas." What did he mean? That he wasn’t entirely undesirable after all? There was something dark behind those words, heavy and almost palpable, like a storm cloud.

With a sigh, I slowly turned around, my conscience nagging at me.

He was still standing there, trembling, pale as a ghost, his energy all over the place, strangely… vulnerable.

Unhurriedly, I walked back toward him and said, "I apologize—"

"Get out!"

"I shouldn’t have said that. It was inappropriate. Please, come to the fair. I promise I’ll do my best to find a good match for you—someone who will love and accept you as you are. I have a special… ability. I might really be able to pull this off for you, but you have to come to the fair. I was hired because of my high success rate in matching people. Please, Day, give yourself a chance at happiness." I hesitated and added, "And practically speaking, you can only claim the fine if you attend. So please, consider it."

If nothing else would work, this would.

He stayed silent, his eyes narrowed, lips pressed into a hard line.

Then, without a word, he turned on his heel and walked back to the house, slamming the door behind him.

Phew.

The only thing I could do now was contact Mr. Ragu before a formal complaint reached him. As soon as I was far enough from the house, I pulled out my phone and dialed my boss.

"I’ve got good news and bad news," I said as soon as he picked up.

Mr. Ragu sighed. "Start with the good. After yesterday, I’m tired of bad news."

"All four clients will be at the auction and fair."

Yes, I said it—all four. Because somehow, I knew Day would come. The potential compensation was too tempting for him to pass up.

"Wow, that’s a big success. I’m glad you were so convincing… Including the fifth, the alpha?"

Oh yeah. My cousin, Gabriel. Almost forgot.

"No, I didn’t talk to him, but I hope he’ll be at the next fair. And as for the others—"

"Yes?"

"Well, things got a little out of hand. I think I overdid it with the last case—the omega involved in surrogacy."

"Sanderson? I remember our initial conversation. He seemed bitter."

"He is. Which isn’t surprising, considering he’s spent years giving birth to children for other people."

"So what happened? Tell me."

"He said he was filing a complaint because I criticized his smoking. He read too much into my suggestion that he should stop using suppressants."

Mr. Ragu sighed. "Well… considering what happened yesterday, that's really small in comparison—he’ll come around."

"I hope so. To be fair, though, he called the company a bunch of scammers."

"It’s his defense mechanism. He’s angry about his poor life choices and wants to pin it on us. It’s easier to blame someone else for his problems."

"I think it’s deeper than that. I read his initial questionnaire—he mentioned a relationship in college. It was good, but the alpha left him for a high mate. It crushed him and pushed him into surrogacy."

"Everyone has their story. But he’s dragged the surrogacy thing out for too long. It’s going to be tough to find him a mate when he looks so emaciated and unhealthy."

"Yeah… Anyway, I know I shouldn’t have made that comment. It’s been a rough day—three meetings earlier, a personal situation, and I’m just exhausted."

"Don’t stress over it. Our company already has its fair share of bad reviews—one more won’t make a difference. That’s just how this industry is."

I sighed heavily. "Anyway, it’s settled. They’ll be at the fair. Also, I’d like to request one more day of remote work to handle a personal matter. But if you need me to review more contracts, send them over."

"These are the last four with guaranteed-match, plus the young alpha case. But the problem is that after yesterday’s chaos, Blue Lowen isn’t returning my calls, so we’re back at square one. We’re working on a high-end program for demanding clients willing to pay a fortune for perfect matches. Big bonuses. Top secret , of course. So don’t worry, there’ll be plenty to keep you busy."

Sure. Everything was ‘top secret’ with Ragu until someone inevitably spilled the beans and blew up his ass. Whatever. I needed to see my omega.

The call ended, and nothing could hold me back. I rushed to my car and drove straight to Damien’s apartment.

My entire body ached with longing—I craved to see him. My soul demanded it. I hadn’t texted him all day amidst the madness, and he hadn’t texted me either. But I couldn’t leave things like this. Seeing him was the most important thing in the world.