"So, yesterday I messaged Andrea," Lucas said casually.
"For what?" Valentina raised an eyebrow.
"Apparently, he might know an alpha lawyer."
"Lucas, why are you involving strangers in my problem? I never gave you permission to do that," she snapped.
"Valentina, can you stop being so stubborn?"
"I'm not being stubborn. I just don't want nosy people in my business," she replied firmly.
Valentina could be incredibly proud when she wanted to. Maybe Lucas was right, but that didn't give him the right to involve outsiders—people they barely knew who might vanish at any moment or, worse, who saw them as nothing more than a distraction from the start.
She knew she'd need help, especially if she chose to take on the agency. But that didn't mean opening the door to just anyone. Call her paranoid if you want, but she didn't want to be a casual story in anyone's life.
"Let's change the subject. Don't play dumb. Tell me: what happened with Bastian?" Lucas pressed.
"Nothing. NOTHING happened! We just kissed, that's all," Valentina exclaimed.
"FOR TWO STRAIGHT DAYS?!" he shot back in disbelief.
"Sorry, Mr. Million-Dollar Smile, not all of us are rock stars in bed," she said with a smirk.
"Idiot," Lucas muttered.
"Jerk," Valentina countered.
"Drop-dead."
"We die together," she said, laughing.
They spent the whole afternoon at Lucas' workshop, a small place in Üster, a middle-class area with a mostly beta population, though other castes also lived there. Valentina helped organize boxes: jackets, helmets, tires… everything.
Lucas had always dreamed of this. And she wanted to see him shine.
After years of social pressure, the quota law had finally been implemented, requiring companies to employ at least 20% beta workers. Supposedly to "balance the economic contribution of all castes." But everyone knew respect couldn't be legislated.
Valentina was hesitant to reach out to her old suppliers. She feared rejection or inflated prices. She had always kept relationships strictly professional, never getting too friendly, afraid of prejudice. But this time, she took a chance.
She called Becerra—" Lucky," by his real name—a highly sought-after alpha photographer. To her surprise, he happily agreed. In exchange, he asked for a couple of helmets and accessories from the shop.
"Amiga," he called her, like always. And that made Valentina smile.
"Done. We're going to his studio on Saturday. So we need to have everything ready," she said.
That night, as she was getting ready for bed, she received an unexpected email.
Sender: Lorenzo Gallotti
Email:
Hello Valentina,
How are you?
The reason I'm writing is to request a meeting. There are some things I'd like to propose to you now that you're no longer at the agency. I prefer to discuss them in person.
If you feel uncomfortable, you can bring someone with you.
Date: Friday the 23rd
Place: Säblierr Rooftop Restaurant & Bar
Time: 8:00 p.m.
Looking forward to your response.
Best regards,
Lorenzo Gallotti
**
Valentina froze. A meeting? Tomorrow? Her week had already been suspense-movie-worthy… and now this.
She immediately called Lucas.
"Come with me, I'm begging you."
"No way. I'm not going to some snobby rooftop joint."
"Lucas… you owe me for all the times you ditched me for your lovers."
She didn't want to go. She was walking toward the station when Lucas grabbed her arm to stop her. Her stomach twisted, her legs trembled, anxiety overflowed. She knew Lucas would be by her side, but it didn't stop the fear of sitting down with someone she'd only ever exchanged emails with, and barely spoken to in nearly eight years at the agency.
The place was stunning. Hanging lights, modern art, wide open spaces, floral furniture—Everything screamed exclusivity.
She searched for Lorenzo, who'd said he'd be near the bar on the first floor.
Valentina wasn't unpleasant to look at. She stood 1.70 meters tall, with fair skin, dark brown eyes, and jet-black hair. She had hips, a narrow waist, and strong legs. Furthermore, she'd practiced martial arts since childhood—her father, a retired beta police officer, had raised her to defend herself.
"Valentina, over here," Lorenzo said, raising his hand.
He was a tall omega, over 1.80, with shoulder-length blonde hair and an androgynous face—always dressed fashionably. But he wasn't alone. There was another man with him, shorter, with whom he seemed to share more than just work.
That was frowned upon. Omega-omega relationships. Male beta couples. Anything that strayed from the script was condemned.
"I'll be direct," Lorenzo said." "I'm opening an agency with my partner. I want to work with you. You'd start freelance, but if this grows, we could team up."
Valentina couldn't believe it. Of all the things she'd imagined—this hadn't even made the Top 100.
But just as her heart began to beat with a bit of hope… they appeared.
Erick. Raffael. And two guests.
The restaurant fell silent.
Raffael walked up to their table without asking.
"Oh, Lorenzo… I didn't know you and Valentina were so close."
"Always the gentleman, Raffael," Lorenzo replied firmly." "I didn't know you and Erick frequented places so… public."
Erick just nodded in silence. Watching.
One of Raffael's guests wouldn't stop staring at Lucas. And Lucas? He winked.
"What's your name?" the man asked.
"You're cute. I don't think I've seen you before. Are you an alpha?"
"I'm a beta. Name's Lucas," he said without lowering his gaze.
"Shame. With that smile, I figured you were something more."
The man reached out to touch him.
Valentina placed her hand over his.
"Please don't make him uncomfortable. Thank you."
Silence.
Raffael looked at her with a mixture of mockery and surprise, then headed to his table with Erick.
"Lorenzo… with all due respect, I can't stay in this place," she said.
"You're right. Do you know anywhere quieter?"
As they were leaving, Valentina felt a sharp slap on her butt. A man had just spanked her.
Hard. On purpose.
She turned around and slapped him across the face—without thinking.
The man stood up, furious.
But Lucas was faster.
He grabbed him by the neck and slammed him into a chair.
"Apologize. Or I'll break your neck."
The man—an alpha—released pheromones like a weapon. The air turned heavy. Disgusting.
"Pheromones?" Lucas smiled." I can smell your shit, but it doesn't work on me. I'm beta."
Valentina held Lucas back.Some customers had already fled because of the stench.Lorenzo and his partner had also moved away—visibly affected by the intensity and hate behind the pheromones.
But suddenly, the alpha stopped emitting them.
A new scent filled the room—intense sandalwood.They couldn't quite place it, but they knew: it was pheromones.Strong enough to be noticed.
The man pissed himself in fear.And Lucas took the opportunity to punch him.
Raffael stepped in from behind.
"You're welcome," he said, as if he'd done something.
"We didn't ask for your help," Valentina shot back.
"You're way too arrogant for a beta. You should know your place."
"That's enough," she said. "Thanks, but we can handle it ourselves."
"You weren't this rude back at the office."
"The office is one thing… this is another."
Erick never moved from his table.Not a gesture.Not a word.
But as Valentina crossed the exit door…she felt his gaze burning into her back.
Outside, Lorenzo and his partner were already waiting—recovered.
"What the hell was that? Did Erick say anything to you?"
"Nothing. He just kept eating like none of this mattered."
Valentina adjusted her coat.
"Maybe I won't go back to that office," she whispered.
Lucas looked at her—half proud, half worried.
"Does that scare you?"
"No," she said, taking a deep breath.
"I think what scares me… is that I'm finally not scared."
Life had just handed her an opportunity on a silver platter—and with it, anxiety served as the appetizer.
______________________________________________________________________________________
ALPHAS – "THE KINGS"
Alphas are seen as the pinnacle of the social hierarchy. They are strong, dominant, and believed to be born to lead.
Physical Traits
They are usually tall, muscular, and imposing. Their eyes can turn red when entering rut or releasing pheromones.