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“Or a lack of money,” he corrects me.
I don’t argue. He isn’t wrong.
“But our online sales to date have been steadily increasing since our initial launch of Mister Knotty,” I reply confidently, trying not to let my nerves show.
“Mister Knotty?”
“This was my first toy.” I hand him the dildo. “Mister Knotty gives omegas who are scared of alphas the chance to experience a knot at her pace.”
“Omegas aren’t scared of alphas.” His voice is deep as our eyes lock and the intensity of his stare makes me swallow. “Are you scared of me?”
“I’m not talking about me, but about the thousands or more omegas who are scared.”
“I asked you if you’re scared of me.”
“You’re a little intense, but no.”
“Good. You can’t show your weakness to anyone.” He smiles. “Continue.”
“As for the projected sales for the next three years, we’ve conducted extensive market research and have developed a strategic marketing plan to capitalize on the growing demand for innovative toys like ours. I know there will be a market for curious betas. And I can think of something to give a needy alpha male what he needs.”
“He’d only need you.” The Professor leans forward, his eyes glinting playfully. “But tell me more about this strategic marketing plan,” he says, his voice so slow it rumbles over every one of my ribs and then skitters down to my core.
Stop it.
I take a deep breath, summoning my best poker face, knowing my ideas for three years down the track are still a pipedream. “Our plan includes targeted online advertising campaigns, influencer collaborations, and we want to create strategic partnerships with key retailers who cater to our target demographic. We’ve already secured several leading influencers, and that is pushing us to a wider audience and increasing brand visibility.”
He nods slowly, impressed by my answer. “And do you think two million dollars will be enough to see this vision?”
Two million dollars.
My heart hammers in my chest as the Professor’s gaze remains fixed on me, his expression unreadable. I can feel the weight of his scrutiny bearing down on me, making it harder to maintain my composure. But I refuse to let it show. I know that in this world of alphas, any sign of weakness could be fatal to a business … and me.
“It depends on what percentage you want to take in my business,” I say.
“Interesting,” he muses, leaning back in his chair slightly. “I thought Mister Dyer told you my terms.”
“He did, but...” Confusion must cover my face when I ask, “Why all the questions about my business if your terms don’t include my business?”
He smiles. Perfect white straight teeth gleam back at me, contrasting beautifully with his dark hair. “I wanted to know how much the business meant to you. And it appears to be very much about who you are.”
Bastard!
He’s working out how desperate I am for his money.
“The two million dollars isn’t for a percentage of ownership. It is purely for two days of sharing you with my pack mate.”
My mind races, trying to process the Professor’s words. Two million dollars for two days? This is not the strategic partnership I had in mind.
Bile skates up my throat. I need to gag as the bitter taste fills my mouth. But it’s the mix of anger and disgust bubbling up inside me I’m most scared of. How dare he reduce me to a mere object, a commodity to be shared among his pack?
Relax Ella.
This is how omegas are trapped.
He is trying to ruin you.
Summoning all the strength I have left, I maintain my composure and force a smile. “I’m sorry, but that isn’t what I had in mind when I came here today. I’m here to discuss a business proposition, not engage in any personal arrangements.”
