Chapter 319

Daphne

I avoid the purple blob’s judgmental gaze. Technically, the system doesn’t have a face, but I can tell there’s judgment radiating from it.

[Host. It’s been three days.]

It’s not like I did it on purpose. You said it yourself...we accidentally triggered our biology or something.

I say this while driving home. We decided to drive separately, not to rouse suspicion. Vivienne is probably twenty minutes behind me, and the thought of her in that car, alone, with the memories of the past three days still fresh on her skin—

[Host. Had I not extended the dates on the hotel reservation, it would have been a scandal!]

Yeah. It would have.

I genuinely can’t bring myself to pay attention to the system’s scolding because my mind has been replaying flashbacks of the past few days on an endless loop.

I also didn’t expect that. I just... didn’t want to stop. Her skin is so soft. Her scent. Her sounds when I—

[Host!]

Okay, okay. I’m sorry. I’m paying attention. What happened while I was offline?

[Charles Grey and Elijah Jacobs have had sexual relations.]

I almost swerve into the wrong lane at that piece of information.

"I’m sorry, what the fuck?" I actually respond out loud.

How did that happen? Are they not both Alphas? Who topped whom?

[The night the host had the encounter with the MC, the male leads were also drugged at the club,standard narrative event. But since the main character was otherwise occupied with you...]

I snort out a laugh. "So they gave in to their bodies? But isn’t this like weeks ago? Why are you telling me this now?"

[Because they didn’t then. They resisted. Fought it. Went home separately.]

I frown, confused. "Then how—"

[Two days ago. CEO Charles Grey and CEO Elijah Jacobs were in a private meeting. An argument escalated. They were isolated. Elijah he...]

"Stop." My voice is sharp. Final.

I know where this is going.

I didn’t like Charles. I thought he was arrogant, transactional, a typical Alpha asshole who treated people like possessions. But no one deserves that.

What is wrong with this world? Genuinely what the hell.

[The narrative structure normalizes Alpha dominance. Consent is... loosely defined. Elijah Jacob’s character was written to be aggressive in pursuit of what he wants.]

I was laughing. Just moments ago, I was laughing because I thought there might be some suppressed feelings between them, some mutual attraction, some interesting development I could use.

Not this.

There goes my good mood.

***

Charles Grey

I can’t believe that bastard did that to me.

That bastard.

How could he overpower me? How could Elijah Jacobs...the gutter rat, the nobody, the self-made fraud who crawled out of some forgotten slum ,pin me down like I was nothing?

I punch the wall. The drywall craters, dust blooming around my knuckles. The pain is good. Grounding. It reminds me I’m still here, still real, still me.

Elijah Jacobs should always be below me. Like an ant. Like the vermin he is. I’ve hated him from the first moment I saw his face on a magazine cover, that smug expression, that rags-to-riches story everyone loved so much.

Oh, look at Elijah, so inspiring. Look at Elijah, so resilient. Look at Elijah, building an empire from nothing while you, Charles, had everything handed to you.

I pace the length of my penthouse, bare feet on cold marble, ignoring the blood dripping from my split knuckles.

It’s why I’ve always done everything to keep him down. Undercut his deals. Stole his contacts. Spread rumors to the press. Made sure everyone knew that the great Elijah Jacobs was just lucky, just timing, just nothing special.

But like a fucking cockroach, he kept clawing back up.

And now—

Now that fucking cockroach...

I stop pacing. Stare at my reflection in the full-length mirror.

My face is pale. My eyes are wild. There’s a bruise forming on my jaw where he hit me.

I see it again. The way he moved,faster than I expected, stronger than I remembered. The way his hands grabbed my wrists, twisted, pinned.

The way he loomed over me, breathing hard, eyes burning with something I’d never seen in him before.

And I—

I couldn’t move. Couldn’t fight. Couldn’t do anything except lie there while he—

No.

I won’t think about it.

I won’t.

I look at my reflection. The man staring back at me looks like a stranger. Broken. Weak.

I smash the mirror.

Glass explodes outward, shards flying, cutting my arms, my chest, my face. The pain is sharp and immediate and welcome. I stand there, bleeding, surrounded by destruction, and still—

Still I see him.

Still I feel his weight.

Still I hear his voice, low and ragged: "Now we’re even."

I sink to my knees in the broken glass.

The shards bite into my skin, sharp and real. Pain I can feel. Pain I can control.

But then—

No.

I stand up.

Glass crunches beneath my feet, embedding deeper, and I don’t care. The pain is fuel. The blood is proof. I’m still here. I’m still alive.

I’m Charles Grey.

I am the heir to the Grey fortune. The CEO of an empire. The man who has never lost a battle, never backed down from a fight, never let anyone,anyone see him weak.

I find him at his penthouse.

Of course I do. The bastard doesn’t even have the decency to hide.

I smash through the door,security be damned, alarms be damned, everything be damned and there he is.

Elijah Jacobs.

Standing in his perfect penthouse with his perfect view and his perfect fucking life, looking at me like I’m the one who’s crazy.

"You," I snarl.

I’m on him in seconds—fists swinging, rage exploding. The first punch catches his jaw, snaps his head back. The second lands in his stomach, doubles him over. The third,I don’t know where the third lands. I just know I can’t stop.

He doesn’t fight back.

That makes it worse.

He takes it. Lets me hit him again and again until my knuckles are bloody and my arms are shaking and I’m crying like some pathetic weakling. An omega.

And then—

I grab his face.

I don’t know why.

And I kiss him.

I don’t think about it. Don’t plan it. My lips are on his,blood and salt and something that might be tears—and I’m kissing him like he’s the only thing keeping me alive.