Alex returned home late that night, the sharp sound of raised voices hitting him the moment he stepped through the front door. His family was gathered in the living room — his mother's cold tone slicing through the heavy air, his father's deeper voice rumbling beneath it, and Elena and Ian's voices layered over the top in sharp bursts.
Alex hesitated in the doorway, his hand tightening around the strap of his bag. He had half a mind to turn around and leave, but curiosity held him in place. His family arguing wasn't exactly unusual — it was practically the background noise of his childhood — but the tension in the room tonight was heavier, darker. Something was wrong.
"This is unbelievable!" his mother's shrill voice cut through the room like a knife. "How could you not know who you were borrowing from?"
"I didn't know!" his father bellowed back, his face red with frustration. He paced across the room, his hand raking through his thinning hair. "If I had known it was him, I never would have—"
"You should have done your research!" Elena snapped, arms crossed over her chest. "Now we're trapped."
"What exactly happened?" Alex asked, stepping further into the room.
Four pairs of eyes turned toward him, some sharp, others weary.
"You're home late," his father said instead of answering the question.
Alex ignored that. "What happened?"
His older brother Ian's mouth twisted in disgust. "Mr. Sandbrook," he said bitterly. "That's what happened."
"Mr. Sandbrook?" Alex frowned. "The guy who owns the majority of the hotel shares?"
"Yes," his mother said tightly. "Apparently, he also owns a private loan company."
Alex's eyes widened. "Wait — loan company?"
"Yes." His father's shoulders sagged under the weight of his mistake. "I borrowed from it a few months ago after one of my business ventures…underperformed."
"Underperformed?" Elena scoffed. "That's putting it lightly. They completely flopped!"
His father shot her a warning glare but continued. "I didn't know the loan company was linked to Sandbrook. But now… he's using it as leverage. He's demanding full repayment or—"
"Or what?"
"Or we sell off the Crown Hotel," his mother said with venom.
Alex was surprised. The Crown Hotel was the family's most successful property — a landmark, really. It brought in 55% of the yearly revenue. Giving it up could be the end of the Masterson's family business.
"We can't let that happen," Ian growled. "That's our strongest asset."
"And yet," his father's voice dropped low, almost defeated, "if we don't sell it, he'll take everything, including this house."
Alex stood frozen in place, watching them bicker and strategize. Normally, he would have felt a flicker of sympathy seeing his family so vulnerable — but not this time. A strange satisfaction curled low in his chest. His family had spent years pretending he was invisible, treating him like an inconvenience. Maybe now they were getting exactly what they deserved. It was pretty clear the Mr. Sandbrook was bent on destroying not only the family business, but the family itself.
Maybe, he held some kind of grudge against the Mastersons. Alex wouldn't be surprised considering what terrible human beings his parents and siblings were, especially towards those who they deemed unfit to even breathe in their presence. Well, they had obviously met their match.
Instead of getting involved, Alex turned and headed upstairs. He was tired, and the following day would be even worse. Saturdays were always hectic at the restaurant, and he needed his energy. Besides, he couldn't care less about Mr. Sandbrook's plans for his family or family fortune. Alex had never actually relied on either until now.
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Alex had been right — the restaurant was chaotic from the moment the doors opened. Every table was booked, the private rooms were all reserved, and the staff moved like a well-oiled machine under pressure.
During a brief lull, Alex overheard two of his coworkers whispering by the bar.
"Did you see the alpha in Room Six?" one of the waitresses whispered, eyes wide. "He's gorgeous."
"Not just gorgeous — dominant," the other added with a breathless smile. "I'd give anything for a night with a man like that."
"Yeah, well, someone like him wouldn't spare a second glance at a beta," the first one said with a sigh.
Alex had tuned them out — until his name was called.
"Alex, you're in Room Six," the manager said, handing him a notepad.
Alex's heart skipped. Room Six. His coworkers were practically salivating over this alpha. He pushed down the unease curling in his gut and adjusted his uniform. It was just another customer.
He knocked lightly before stepping inside, not bothering to look up right away. His father's voice was the first thing he heard, and his hand tightened around the notepad.
Alex lifted his head — and froze.
His father sat at the head of the table, dressed sharply in a tailored suit. His mother sat next to him, wearing that thin, cutting smile she reserved for social gatherings. Elena and Ian flanked them, their faces schooled into polite expressions. But Alex barely noticed any of them.
Because sitting at the opposite end of the table, long legs crossed and sharp gaze fixed on him — was Damien.
Alex's heart hammered painfully against his ribs. His mouth went dry. Damien's piercing dark eyes were as cold as ice as they met Alex's stunned gaze.
"Ah," his mother's voice broke through the tension, "my dearest boy, are you rebelling in your usual way?" She forced a brittle smile and reached out to squeeze his hand. "I told you, Mr. Sandbrook, my youngest has quite the character."
Mr.Sandbrook? Damien was Mr. Sandbrook? His Damien was the man bent on bringing ruin to his family. Alex's ears started ringing. His stomach was in knots.
Damien's lips curled in the faintest trace of a smile —sharp and ominous. "Nice to finally meet you, Alex Masterson," he said smoothly, his tone devoid of any warmth.
Alex's throat tightened. He forced a thin smile. "Ah… yes."
"I will take your orders now," Alex said stiffly, gripping the notepad like a lifeline.
He moved mechanically, jotting down the orders while trying to keep his hands from shaking. He couldn't look at Damien directly — every time he tried, his vision blurred at the edges. Damien's cold stare followed him the whole time.
Just before he left, his mother grabbed his arm, her grip bruising. "We'll talk at home," she hissed in his ear.
Alex stumbled out of the room, his chest tight and his breathing shallow.
"Alex?"
He turned and found himself face-to-face with the head chef, who was stepping out of another private room.
"Alex, what's wrong?" the chef's eyes narrowed with concern. "You look pale."
"I— I need someone to cover Room Six," Alex stammered. His legs felt weak beneath him. "I need to leave. I'm not— I'm not feeling well."
The chef frowned but nodded. "Of course. I'll handle it."
Alex barely made it back to the kitchen. He immediately called for a cab, but he didn't want to go home. His mother's warning echoed in his head. He wasn't ready to face them yet — not after this.
He pulled out his phone and scrolled to Eric's number. His fingers shook as he typed out a quick message:
Coming over. Need to talk.
When the cab pulled up, Alex climbed in and gave the driver Eric's address. As the car sped through the dark streets, Alex stared out the window, his mind racing.
Damien — Mr. Sandbrook — had been playing them all along. He had wormed his way into his father's financial affairs, manipulated them from the shadows. And Alex…
Alex had spent a week with him, shared his bed, his dreams — had let himself hope that maybe he had found someone who actually cared about him.
But, from his behavior, it was clear that Damien had known who Alex was all along. Maybe, he had even planned the whole thing — meeting "by chance" at the bar, going to the hotel, sleeping together for an entire week, playing the role of a generous and caring lover…
Alex was getting sick to his stomach. His entire body was shaking violently. His mind rejected this hypothesis. It just couldn't be true! How could someone fake their feelings like that? How could a person be so monstrous? Without even realizing it, tears started streaming down Alex's cheeks. He felt completely broken.