His Secret Billionaire Omega_M/M Non-Shifter Alpha/Omega MPREG Read online

  “Decker.”

  Killer. It was Killer. I hadn’t even heard him come in, but thank freaking goodness, because Decker was in rare form, something about him so very off.

  “You’re interrupting,” Decker said, and I closed my eyes in thanks. Please, please interrupt!

  “Jasper asked for me to find you.” Killer was a crap liar, it appeared. Couldn’t he at least modulate his tone so that he sounded a little convincing?

  Whether Decker picked up on the lie or not, he ignored Killer either way. “He can wait.”

  “He said it was urgent.”

  Decker sighed and rested his head on mine. I held my breath, not wanting to breathe his recycled whiskey air. But he stood up finally. “Everything’s urgent with him.” He placed a finger under my chin and raised it so I was looking him in the eyes. I wanted to shake him off, but I quivered under his touch, under his dark and dangerous gaze as he said, “I’ll find you later.” I wanted to throw up at his words. He’d never really noticed me like this before, and I definitely didn’t like it. I closed my eyes as he left, willing my body to control itself and not shake apart with the fear that his touch and voice had instilled in me.

  "You okay, Blondie?"

  "What?" My brain was still catching up with what had just gone down and worse, what almost went down.

  "You okay? You're not... high or..."

  He must’ve seen Decker’s eyes and assumed I had been there to partake of whatever it was myself. As if.

  "I meant what did you call me?" I forced a chuckle into my voice, hoping he saw that the getting high wasn’t my scene.

  "Blondie," he said gruffly.

  I sidestepped him, pretending to be primping in the mirror trying not to pump my fist in victory. He had noticed me. He had a nickname for me. Sure, it wasn’t the most flattering, but it was mine.

  "It's Marcus." I fell easily back into my persona. "You got a name, big fella?"

  "Killian. Killian Daye."

  His gruff voice echoed in my brain, sending tingles up and down my spine. Damn, the man was sex on a stick.

  "Well, Killian Daye, once you're off duty, maybe you come find me for a dance?"

  He wouldn’t. He never did anything other than his duty, like an actual knight in shining armor, but I felt compelled to ask. He had caught my eye the very first time I entered this club, and this was my first chance getting to speak with him. I had to make it count.

  "I work until close."

  Was that disappointment I saw flash across his eyes? Please, let it be disappointment. Even though I wasn’t going to stick around much longer anyway, I wanted him to want to dance with me. There was no way I could stay in the club that long tonight with Decker. As it was, I should probably call my ride.

  "Too bad." I made my reply short. I had to get out of here before I lost my cool. I brushed at my hair once more and turned to leave, but froze when Killian placed his hand on my arm. It wasn’t like when Decker had touched me. Instead of feeling trapped and repulsed, I felt like he was drawing me in.

  "Watch out for Decker. He's bad news. If I were you, I might just call it an early night."

  "I'll keep it in mind,” I promised as I walked out the door. I didn’t dare pull my phone out until I was safely outside. If Decker was coming at me, I needed to see him ahead of time. I made It safely outside and breathed a sigh of relief, and then found myself grinning foolishly. Sure, Decker had definitely upset my evening plans, but that was completely overshadowed by the fact that I finally knew Killer’s real name. Killian Daye. I pressed my hand to my chest, willing my heart to slow down its rapid tap dance. He probably was used to protecting omegas from Decker.

  But he has a nickname for you, my traitorous heart whispered. I couldn’t keep the smile off my face the rest of the night. Even with Decker’s creepiness, I knew I’d be back for another Omega Night. Maybe not next week. I needed to give Decker time to forget me, but when I did come back, I’d be more cautious. I wouldn’t accept any invites to the VIP booth. Maybe I’d find a friend to drag along. But, no matter what, I would talk to Killian again.

  3

  Killian

  I didn't see Marcus all through the next week, but that wasn't unusual. He generally only came in for Omega Night. But then he didn't come the next Omega Night. Or the next. I wondered if he was avoiding Decker. He was being smart, if that was so, and part of me was glad. But the other part of me was going insane that I hadn't had the chance to talk to him again since learning his name. I hung up my jacket in the employee room. Its dark leather looked drab next to the bright colors the entertainers tended to wear. The purple sequined jacket thing next to mine was particularly eye catching. I didn't see how it could help much with the evening chill, though.

  I pulled on my Red Knight arm band and clocked in. I tended to arrive a few minutes before the other guys. We didn't have to do much before opening, but I liked to run a check before things really got started. I'd run through the camera feed, make sure none of them had been adjusted recently, then make sure all the VIP velvet rope barriers were in place. The last thing I checked was that all the emergency exits were clear. I wasn't the one who would have to deal with the fine if the Fire Marshall ran a surprise inspection, but that wasn't what I cared about. If there was an emergency, I wasn't going to have any injuries and deaths from my neglect on my conscience. Especially with the shootings that were happening all over the country. Chances were low that we'd ever be a target, sure, but I was never offended when someone accused me of being paranoid. I was, a little, but better safe than sorry.

  "Hey, Killer. What's happening?" Joe sauntered up. His gold chain necklaces were even more noticeable in the bright lights of the unopened club. Dumbass was going to lose them someday when some asshole grabbed at them, or he was going to get his head knocked around a little bit if they used them to swing him around. But I'd given up giving him shit about them. It just encouraged him to wear more of them.

  "Same old, same old," I replied. My weekly routine was pretty much the same, week to week. I worked out when I got up around ten in the morning, ate breakfast, ran errands or watched TV, and then went to work. Mondays were an exception, as they were the end of my "weekend" and when I visited my family for the day. It was just me, my mom and my brother Coop, and we were tight.

  "You think your sweetheart will show up tonight?"

  I bit back the reply that was on the tip of my tongue and grunted noncommittally. All of the guys teased me about Marcus, but Joe especially. And you would think that it would die down with Marcus not showing up for a couple weeks. If anything, it had intensified it. If Joe knew that I had only just found out the guy's name? He'd be relentless.

  "It's been, what? A month since he's been in?"

  Joe knew exactly how long it had been. Though it felt like it could have been a month, or longer. I continued my checks, trying to ignore him as he followed me around the room.

  "I'd worry that the guy was sick, except he seemed pretty healthy when I saw him at work today."

  It took a moment for Joe's words to catch up with my conscious brain; I was so focused on ignoring him. When I spun around, he was leaning against a wall with an over-casual air, studying his fingernails. He knew exactly what he was doing and how riled up he was making me. He knew where Marcus worked? Where? It took a herculean effort to keep the questions to myself. I wasn't going to give Joe the satisfaction. I turned back to my work.

  "That's it? I get nothing?"

  I could feel his evil smile behind me.

  "Well, I couldn't tell if he was working the afternoon or the evening shift, so if he doesn't come, maybe it's just because he's still at work."

  He was baiting me. He knew I desperately wanted to know more about Marcus. And I did, I did so much. But I also didn't want to give Joe the satisfaction of knowing he had me over a barrel. After a moment, he strode off, whistling, and I checked the time on my phone. Just ten minutes to open. I was still holding out hope Marcus would come
tonight. If he did, I'd ask him directly where he worked, and ruin Joe's whole superiority schtick. But if he was a no-show again...

  Joe would never let me live it down, but I had to know more about the omega.

  Marcus didn't show, but neither did Decker, which was a relief. The guy had been up my ass ever since I'd interrupted him with Marcus. He never accused me of lying to him about Jasper needing him, so I had no idea what had happened there, but whatever it was, he was taking it personally, and he blamed me. The last Omega Night, he'd complained that I was letting people get too close to his booth. He’d pretty much forced me to personally guarantee anyone not in his booth gave it a three-foot clearance, which meant that all night, I was watching drugged up omegas rubbing themselves all over him, making sure they didn't fall flat on their faces when they stumbled out of the booth to try to dance or go to the bathroom. All that was fine, but it was knowing Decker was watching my every move, controlling me, wanting to get under my skin, that made the night interminably long. But as long as it wasn't Marcus rubbing himself all over Decker, I really didn't give a fuck.

  We picked up the last wasted partier from a bench and shoved them in a taxi around four in the morning and left the serving staff to finish up their closing routine. As I shrugged on my jacket, I steeled myself to ask Joe about Marcus, but he surprised me. As he passed me, he patted my back and pushed a business card in front of me.

  "You probably want this," he said. At my confusion, his face crinkled up in that evil grin again, and he was out the door with a half-salute.

  I flipped the card around so I could read it. Café Om. An address downtown. I was familiar with the chain, but rarely went downtown. I knew what my plans were for tomorrow, though.

  I knew my chances were fairly slim that Marcus would be working any random time that I decided to go in. I doubted he was an early morning bird—that didn't seem his style—so I planned on hitting it up just after lunch, but my mom called, needing me to run some errands for her, so it was just a little later before I found my way to the cafe. As I expected, no Marcus to be found. The bright-eyed beta barista who was working was friendly, and I felt like I'd be an asshole if I just walked in and then walked back out without ordering anything, so I ordered a large of whatever their house coffee was and found a corner to sit in. I'd finish my coffee, and then I'd head out.

  I tried to push my disappointment away. There were six other days in the week and probably three shifts every day. I could try again. If I wanted to be a creeper, I could ask the girl when Marcus was working next, but that seemed like a stalker-level move, and I wasn't quite there.

  I pulled a book up on my phone and let my mind drift away. I was a sucker for historical biographies and memoirs, especially anything to do with World War II. I was currently reading the story of a Polish spy, and I quickly forgot my disappointment and even where I was as I read. The caffeine hit my system, though, and I finally broke from the book with an intense need to use the facilities. After I washed my hands, I checked my phone, surprised to see it was already three. I'd spent nearly an hour sitting at the table, reading. Nothing left to do now except run home and lounge for a couple hours before work. Maybe scrounge up something to eat.

  I picked up my cup to toss it in the trash on my way out and took a double-take at the man talking to the beta woman behind the counter. I would have sworn it was Marcus, but the man exuded alpha.

  "Did Zeke leave?" the man asked. His tone was brusque. At the barista's confusion, he asked instead, "Is Marcus still here?" There was a more than a hint of frustration in his voice now.

  I froze in the act of opening the door, looking behind to see the alpha stride confidently past the woman to the back of the cafe. What the heck was going on?

  The girl seemed torn in confusion, her eyes darting between the nearly empty cafe and the alpha who'd just barged past her. Whoever he was, he clearly wasn't supposed to be back there. She looked helplessly at me. I knew that look. It was the look that said, "You're an alpha, can't you fix this?"

  "Is there a manager on site?" I asked.

  She nodded, her eyes wide and scared.

  "Why don't you call him?"

  That seemed to unlock her confusion, and she spun into action while I turned back in to the cafe and took a seat at one of the front tables, waiting to see what was going on. If Marcus was here, I wanted to see him. If he needed help, there was no way I was leaving.

  4

  Marcus

  Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

  This wasn’t happening. I’d finally done it. I’d built up a life without my family, one where I could stay away from their bullshit. Why the fuck had Parker picked now, of all times, to hunt me down? He had the resources to find me at any time. Going by my middle name was hardly the best way to hide.

  If they’d decided I had enough time to sow my oats and wanted me to come back and marry well, like a good little omega, they had another think coming. I wasn’t going to be sold. Not then. Not now. They could sugar it up all they wanted, but they only saw me as a commodity and I was done.

  I was the master of hiding my emotions. I could play the part of a happy omega all day long, in the worst of settings, but seeing Parker broke me, and instead of asking Abrar for the rest of the day off, feigning illness, I found myself locked in the employee bathroom in a ball, on the floor, sobbing.

  “Zeke. Marcus. Can we just talk?” My brother’s voice broke through the door. Was running away from him not a strong enough hint?

  “No.” The weakness in my voice almost had me sobbing again. I was not weak. I stood up to them. I left. I started a new life. I was strong. Except I wasn’t. Seeing his face had cracked my strength a little and each word he spoke only wedged me open wider.

  “Too bad, little bro. I'm not going anywhere until I find out what happened.” As if he didn’t remember abandoning me when I needed him most. He knew what my parents were up to, and not once did he stand by me. He’d chosen college and partying over saving me from my intended fate.

  “What happened?” I sounded like the serial killer just as they were about to snap in a B-level movie, my intonation all over the place, but just getting words out was hard. There was no way I’d be able to sound put together. Not now. “That’s rich. Just run back to your mommy and daddy. I don't have a family anymore.”

  “Hey, you.” Abrar’s voice was harsh, and I nearly collapsed with relief. I could tell he knew Parker wasn’t me. I wouldn’t need to explain to him why someone wearing my face, calling me the wrong name, was in the employee only section of the café making a huge ass scene. “Employees only. I'm going to need you to leave, or I'll call the authorities.”

  No one fucked with Abrar or his employees, which was one of the reasons Café Om did so well. He wouldn’t hesitate a second before following through on his threat. Something I am sure Parker Spears, alpha rich boy, wasn’t used to.

  “I'm just trying to talk to my brother.”

  Damn fool was going to get himself arrested, and then it would hit the paper and—just no. He needed to leave before that shit went down. I had a good thing going here and didn’t need him ruining it by acting out and putting us in the gossip rags. I could see it now: Spears Brothers United In Jail. Thanks, but no thanks.

  “I don't care what you're trying to do, you're harassing my employee, and I won't stand for that.”

  “Just go,” I begged through the door. Parker didn’t answer, and I heard a thump and the tell-tale beep of numbers being pressed on a cellphone. “Damn it, Parker. For just once in your life can you not be the stereotypical stubborn alpha?” I opened the door, hoping my shaking legs weren’t noticeable. I hated that I went weak the first time, the very first time, I came face to face with my past. I was stronger than that. Damn it. “If I agree to talk to you, will you leave?”

  “Now?”

  Was he serious? Shit, looking at his face… it was—optimism. No. Not that. I used to be able to read him and now, now I was at a loss. He looked so
not Parker. Sure, years had been between us, but it was more than that.

  “No. What about Tuesday?” I offered, counting the days between then and now and willing them to be enough for me to pull myself together.

  “I have a business trip,” he began, before quickly adding, “I can cancel.”

  “Don't cancel,” I said automatically, a not so tiny part of me wondering if his quick offer to cancel was out of desire to talk to me or if he was there for my parents. If he had said it through the door, I’d have assumed the latter, but now that we were face to face and I could see his eyes, I had my doubts.

  “Next Friday? That’s when I’m back.”

  “Okay. I work until six in the evening. Meet me here.” I half eyed Abrar, who gave a nod that it was alright for Parker to come back and that I was more than likely not fired for his bullshit.

  “I will,” he promised. “I guess I should let you get back to work.” And with that, he walked out.

  Why did it hurt as much to see him leave as to see him at all? It looked like my family shit wasn’t as in my past as I’d convinced myself it was.

  “You okay?” Abrar asked, his arms slightly open in a welcoming, yet subtle manner.

  I took advantage and stepped into his hug, allowing the tears to begin again.

  “Sorry.” I sniffled as I wiped my tears from my eyes. “I thought I was past giving a hoot about that stuff.”

  “So that’s your brother. I was wondering about that.”

  I straightened my clothing. I must’ve looked a hot mess. At least I wasn’t wearing my eyeliner, like I did at the clubs. “What do you mean?”

  “He was at a fundraiser Café Om sponsored. I thought he was you for a second.”

  That was not good. Not good at all. I had been sure Parker had come into town just to see me, and he’d leave once he accomplished his goal. This changed everything.