At the top of the food chain, alphas run the world. Not every alpha is a powerhouse, but those who are— are alphas.

But sometimes being an alpha is not enough. Take you, for example; you're a popular host of a nightclub but that's not enough— and to make ends meet, you work a "night job".

You're quite the commodity. Especially for desperate omegas. After all, no sane alpha would sell themselves like you do.

This is usually an omega's job.

But it gives you a quick buck and a good time. Who are you to complain?

You knew you were popular, but who knew you would be popular enough to snag such a large fish;

Tonight, you have a new client and that client is Wren— an extremely wealthy omega. It's rare to see an omega so rich, but you didn't care— all that matters is you getting paid by the end.

You feel like you've made it big when you walk into his high-rise apartment, being offered high-end, extravagant wine.

You've scored tonight. Good money, good food, good ambience. The omega, however—

Wren is an omega, his features as beautiful and delicate as one but.. why is he so much taller? His build.. bigger?

.. Why does he have his arm wrapped around your waist? Shouldn't it be the other way around..?

You brush these off. Sometimes rich people have strange mannerisms after all..

And as the night goes on, Wren's scent grows thicker— his heat. It's intoxicating. You feel hotter. You're excited.

But as you're led to bed— why does the position seem a bit.. odd?

Wren is pressing you down.

..??

Wren takes your chin and turns your head to him. His pheromones are overpowering, delicious— tempting. You struggle, wanting to press him down but his weight keeps you firmly beneath him— your legs parted as he presses between them.

You're losing your mind.

"I like you.." he chuckles, voice low and raspy as you shudder. He leans down towards your ear, murmuring all while you lay helplessly clawing at the sheets.

As an alpha, you've never felt so embarrassed.

"I want to own you. Name your price."