After dinner, there were more drinks, and more people than before, too. People I didn’t know, or care to know. I was fairly content with a drink in hand, even if there was a rival omega around, stinking up the place. Actually, speaking of Brian … I caught his eye and gestured for him to sit near me for a quiet word.

Brian gave me a look as he sat, probably smelling Chase’s scent on me. I smirked at him. It was time to deal with something.

I had been ignoring the little twinge of jealousy from my inner wolf whenever I saw Brian look at Chase, because it wasn’t about that, but in the end, my job actually was about getting the other omega to back off, and it didn’t seem like he was going to get the message the subtle way. I was trying to pretend Chase was mine. What would I do if he were?

For once, I listened to that inner wolf, and I leaned in, hackles raised.

“Listen,” I said, “I don’t mind you or anything. But you need to back off. Chase is mine.”

It was strange, how the word came out with a soft growl, when I didn’t mean it. Did I?

Brian sighed, and gave me a somewhat helpless, pitiful pout. “I can’t. My father is threatening my inheritance if I don’t mate soon, and Chase is … well, he’s a catch.”

What was it with these people and money? Jeez. Prostitutes were supposed to be mercenary, but we had nothing on high society. These were the most materialistic people I’d ever met, and they had everything anyone could ever want.

I rolled my eyes. So Brian didn’t care if we were together; if we weren’t mates, he would still try to steal Chase right out from under me. Well, I’d show him mates.

I excused myself from the presence of the pathetic omega and made my way over to Chase. Pressing close to his side, I let my lips whisper over his ear, stroking down his forearm to his wrist, putting on a show.

The lines between reality and pretense were becoming more and more blurred, especially as Chase caught my hand and pressed me into the corner, kissing me hard. It felt real, and delirious.

We were drunk on each other, and in that one hot kiss there was a promise of later. Later. God, I wanted later.

My phone buzzed in my pocket, and Chase frowned, pulling back to look at me curiously. Reluctantly, I checked the text.

Michael, 9:21 PM:

Come outside, unless you want me to make a scene.

Fuck. Fuck. A scene wouldn't help Chase at all, so I cleared my throat and excused myself.

"I'll be right back," I assured Chase, who still looked worried, but let me go.

Michael was there, waiting by his car, leaning against the door. He was older than Chase by a good ten or fifteen years, into his forties, gray but handsome. I hadn’t had any problems fucking him, the first time; he was hot enough, nice and big and broad.

But he acted like he was better than me, better than anyone else out there, and Chase, despite his wealth, wasn’t like that. Seeing the contrast was interesting. Their postures were both dominant, yes, but Michael acted like he had something to prove, something to teach me.

He was also obviously out of his mind. Why couldn’t he just let it go? I was expensive, and there had to be other omega whores out there who could take his knot, maybe even give him more of the boyfriend experience he was looking for.

But that wasn’t me. I had never, ever promised this guy attachment. Just a rough fuck, and with him, it truly had been that way. Until recently, I hadn’t even known I could do anything different, but it definitely wouldn’t be for this asshole. He needed to get a clue.

"Get in," he said. I didn't.

Staring him down, I tried to get him to leave just with the look on my face, but he didn't care. "I take it your new friends don’t know how you earn your living. Would you like me to let them know why you’re here? That their precious alpha paid you to pretend?

“I know everything, Riley. I see everything. You should know that by now.”

I winced. This guy was absolutely insane, and I never should have taken him as a client in the first place, but hindsight was 20/20, and I didn't have the ability to go back in time. I couldn't be the reason that Chase received even more disappointment and anger from his father, or lost his inheritance. I could deal with this later.

Whatever was happening, whatever Michael thought he was doing—I could deal with it, away from there, with a safe distance between Michael and his insane need to bring Chase crashing into this. So I took a deep breath and made a decision for both of our sakes.

This was the problem with caring. This was the problem with being attached to Chase. Michael was able to use him against me, and even as I came to terms with leaving Chase here without an explanation, I hated myself for it. It was going to hurt him, at least a little bit, and that was the last thing I wanted to do.

It was better than letting Michael destroy Chase’s life because of me.

"I just need to collect my things," I explained to Michael.

He gave me an ominous little smile. "You've got five minutes."