1. Kisha

One

Kisha

"God dammit!" I yell, when another demented clown jumps out from behind a neatly trimmed bush.

I hate this shit! Stupid lumberjack billionaires and their ridiculous games. What kinda grown-men would set up something like this? A fucking Halloween haunted maze. And my unlucky ass had to be the one to come check it out. Sheeyit!

* * *

My family's business, Garrett & Co, is in talks with B.J.R., the three lumberjacks' company, to become investors in their nationwide outdoor activities stores chain.

Legend has it, the three alphas were barely out of high school when they organized their first sustainable hiking tour. They soon added renting out gear to their clients, then designing their own equipment. And the rest is history. The three childhood best friends opened one store to sell their patented gear, then another, and ended up spreading all over the country. Now, just a little over a decade later, these motherfuckers made Forbes' list of Thirty Under Thirty. That magazine cover sold out on the first day it came out. Three handsome, rugged, rich, and talented alphas. All bulging muscles, sun-kissed skin, permanent five-o'clock shadows, thick, brown hair, and deep, soulful eyes. Sigh.

No, I haven't been staring longingly at each and every picture of Maddox Brown, Hunter Jones, and Jackson Rivers I came across. Or replaying videos of their interviews. Nope. Uh-huh. I don't daydream about the three alphas or what it would feel like to be their omega. No. None of that. I'm a strong, independent, single omega who's focused on her career. Not on eccentric billionaires whose idea of fun is to scare the crap out of their guests.

This was supposed to be a casual meeting. B.J.R. sent an invitation to their partners and potential future investors to a Halloween party on their estate. I was expecting costumes, food, music, and fun. Not to be jumping out of my skin at each corner of their hedge maze.

* * *

I sprint away from the clown as fast as I can, grumbling under my breath, cursing him and his family for generations to come.

If I'm remembering correctly the maze's map, I should be close to the center. Then it's grab that stupid bracelet that's proof I completed the route, and I can finally sit and catch my breath. If I don't drop dead from a heart attack before.

I barely turn another corner that a disgusting zombie taps on my shoulder. When I turn to face him, the horrendous thing is grunting, walking toward me in jerky moves, all raggedy clothes, and skin falling from its fake putrid flesh. Who made these dang costumes?! This is some Hollywood-level shit! I screech again and back-pedal, taking another turn. When my heartbeat returns to a less alarming pace, I realize I don't have the first clue where I am in this stupid place. And it's getting dark. Great. Just fucking great.