Sai
I pace my apartment, trying to swallow the fury of knowing that my mother tried to shove a check at my Omega yesterday morning. My mother looked at the person I love and tried to buy him like a problem that could be solved with money. My mother has been the one behind all of it, the paintings, the rent, the platform, the modeling. The machine finally has a face and it is the face that used to kiss me goodnight.
My phone has been ringing for almost twenty-fours between Mom, Dad, and a few other second generation Hollis family members I have no desire to talk to. I haven’t answered once. I’m surprised she hasn’t shown up at the apartment yet.
Maybe Lyric warned her off or maybe Alistair intervened or maybe she is regrouping after Mavi told her to go fuck herself in a diner. Either way, the calls keep coming and I keep watching the screen light up and I keep not picking up.
Mavi is out with Noemi. He needed air and he needed a friend to process the diner without me hovering. I let him go because he asked and I am learning that some of Mavi’s battles are Mavi’s to fight. But the apartment feels wrong without him. It’s too quiet and there is too much space for the rage to echo.
My door swings open an hour later, Koda strolling inside to find me mid-pace. He reads the room in two seconds and drops onto the couch like he owns it. “Glad, I showed up since you left the fucking group chat. Now, talk to me before you wear an actual groove into the floor.”
I explain everything, including my absolutely awful plan where I unload everything at dinner tonight, including, officially, that I’m not marrying Elias. Mom knows by now but I need everyone to hear it from my mouth, not just through rumors and chats.
Tonight I am going to stand up to my mother. To all of them. I am done hiding. I am done performing. I am done.
Koda raises an eyebrow as he leans back farther. “What do you need from me?”
“Everything you have. Anything. Whatever it takes to keep them from ruining Mavi. He’s mine, Koda.Mine. And they’ve already started taking his galleries and his modeling and his platform. I can’t let them take anything else.”
Koda nods, the seriousness sitting under the charm catching my attention. “Yeah. I get that.”
A beat passes. I look at my cousin, studying his face before it clicks. “How could you… do you have someone? Is there anyone who—”
Koda snorts and cuts me off. “I hired on a few new mechanics for the car. Two of them are really good but they’re…” He trails off and rubs the back of his neck. “They’re distracting as fuck.”
“You’ve never had a problem fucking the staff.”
Koda laughs, a hint of surprise coating the sound. “I already did. That’s the problem. They won’t go away.”
I frown. “What’s the issue?”
“They are both Omegas.”
I raise an eyebrow as the implication sits between us. Not one Omega but two, both refusing to leave, both apparently unfazed by the fact that Koda is a Hollis Alpha with a reputation and a reckless streak. I file the look on Koda’s face, not his usual easy dismissal of romantic complications but something more confused, more unsettled, more interested than Koda wants to be.
I clear my throat. “Back to dinner. How do I do this?”
Koda shifts into strategy mode, showing off the side most people underestimate. The laid-back charm hides a sharp mind. “We call your contacts. Every model you have shot, every editor you have worked with, every gallery that has shown your work independently. We secure contracts, new ones, ironclad, in your name. Not Hollis. Sai. Personal service agreements that the family cannot touch because they are between you and the client directly.”
“Has that ever worked? Has anyone walked away?”
Koda shrugs. “A few cousins are on the outskirts of everything. My brothers are not really involved in the main operations. We get more leeway based on what we handle for the family. But yeah, I know of at least two who stepped back and survived.”
“Okay. Let us do this.”
My only priority is to protect Mavi in all of this but if I can get out unscathed, I’ll be forever grateful. The morning devolves into working through a massive list, Koda working on the galleries while I focus on my private clients.
Some say no because they are not willing to go against the Hollis name or they are too scared or too connected to risk it. Each no stings but I keep dialing. Others say yes. Models who have worked with me for years and know my talent has nothing to do with my last name. Editors who have seen the work and don’t care about dynasty politics. Gallery owners who took a chance on my photography before the family name meant anything. One by one the yeses stack up. Contracts get drafted, terms get agreed to, signatures incoming. It’s not everything but it’s enough. A foundation that belongs to me, not the machine.
Papers spread across every surface of the apartment. My meticulous nature channels into something productive for once. I organize contracts and check terms and build my own scaffolding. It isn’t until a knock sounds at the door that my focus redirects.
Mavi peeks in. His hair is windblown from being outside, his jacket hanging over one of my shirts, He looks soft and real and slightly amused by the chaos.
“You’re back?” I look up from a contract. “What time is it?”
Mavi snorts. “You said we had to be at the dinner at six. It is five-fifteen.”
I stare at the clock. At the papers. At Koda, who is grinning from the couch. At Mavi, who is surveying the apartment with every surface covered in documents and two phones on the coffee table and empty coffee cups, an expression of fond exasperation on his face.
