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Roman leans back, his gaze distant as if searching for some hidden answer in the flickering lights around us. “Power,” he replies bitterly. “Caius doesn’t like the way Nero runs shit…and it’s classic succession bullshit, right? Both brothers have a claim on control of the Eclipse, and people like Nero more. Seems to me like Caius wants to eliminate the competition.”
“But why now?” I ask, my brows furrowing. “What changed?”
Roman shrugs, frustration etched on his face. “I don’t know all the details. But I heard whispers that Nero has been making moves, trying to dismantle some of Caius’ operations. It’s like he’s trying to turn things around, make this city a safer place for omegas.”
“But how do we fit into all of this?” Oberon asks, his voice laced with concern.
Roman leans forward, his eyes locked on mine. “The girl who wants to talk to you, she knows something. Something big. She claims she has evidence that can expose Caius and turn more of his men to Nero’s side. But…I can’t make heads or tails of it. Heard you were connected with an Angel who knows this shit, and that you’ve been working to get omegas free of the Eclipse.”
I nod, my mind racing with the possibilities. If this girl truly has evidence that can bring down Caius Rossi and his reign of terror, then we have to seize this opportunity.
“Where is she?” I ask.
Roman glances around once more before leaning in closer, lowering his voice to a mere whisper. “She’s in the back,” he says. “Been sick. I’ve been trying to watch out for her, but…I don’t know, something’s off.”
“What is she sick with?”
“That’s the thing,” Roman replies. “Came in from another club practically out of her mind. It almost…it reminds me of the shit infecting alphas, but different.”
I frown. “Okay—can you get me back there?”
“There’s a way, but…”
I stare at him, my mouth dry.
“You have to pose as a dancer. You would attract too much attention otherwise.”
I exchange a glance with Oberon, whose face is all steel. He reaches out and takes my hand, squeezing it hard. I really thought I left all of this behind, but this is bigger than me. Oberon seems to sense my hesitation.
“I’ll be right out here, and you know I can sense you no matter where you are,” he says. “Reach out through the bite when you need me, and I’ll come running.”
I nod, my heart pounding with determination and fear. I know I have to do this. For the omegas who suffer in silence, for the hope of a better future. I swing my gaze back to Roman, meeting his intense gaze.
“Take me to her,” I say, my voice steady despite the turmoil inside me.
Roman gives me a curt nod, standing up from the booth and motioning for me to follow. Oberon squeezes my hand one last time before releasing it, his eyes filled with unwavering support. With a deep breath, I rise from my seat and trail behind Roman through the maze of bodies, drawn toward the darkness that awaits me.
As we move through the crowd, I can feel their eyes on me—curiosity, desire, and judgment seeping into their gazes. But I refuse to let their scrutiny deter me. I am on a mission—one that goes far beyond this club—and I won’t allow myself to be swayed by superficial distractions.
We reach a curtain at the back of the club, and Roman pulls it aside, revealing a dimly lit hallway. The air here is heavy with a different kind of tension, one that hangs on the edge of danger. I can’t help but wonder what awaits me on the other side.
Roman gestures for me to follow as he leads me down the narrow corridor, his steps quiet and purposeful. The walls are lined with peeling wallpaper, the floral pattern faded and worn. The flickering light bulbs above us cast eerie shadows, making the hallway feel like a forgotten passage in time.
It’s a lot like where I used to live, in a life that never felt like it belonged to me.
We stop in front of a door marked “Staff Only,” and Roman turns to face me. “Listen,” he says gravely. “I don’t know what you’ll find in there, but be careful. Trust your instincts and stay alert. And…help her, if you can. She’s special to me.”
I nod, swallowing the nervous lump that has formed in my throat. I know the look on his face—I used to see it on Oberon’s all the time, and on Gunnar’s after we met—it’s real care…he’s starting to fall for this girl.
“I’ll do what I can,” I whisper. “What’s her name?”
“Cassie,” he replies. “I don’t know her last name.”
I nod. “Thank you, Roman. I’ll be back soon.”
With a deep breath, I push open the door and step into the room beyond. It’s small and dark, the air heavy with the scent of sweat and despair. The sound of muffled sobs reaches my ears, and I follow the sound to a corner where a figure huddled on the floor comes into view.
“Cassie?” I call softly, stepping closer. She looks up, mascara-streaked tears staining her cheeks. Her eyes are bloodshot, haunted by pain and fear. She’s wearing nothing but an oversized white t-shirt, swimming in loose fabric. She’s too thin.
