He Called Me Omega, Then Begged for My Help

The scent of rosemary and roasted garlic filled our tiny, cramped apartment, masking the usual smell of damp drywall and old pipes. It was Vincent’s favorite—roast lamb with root vegetables. I had spent three months’ worth of tips on the ingredients, and even pulled a double shift at the bakery just to buy the wine he liked.

I smoothed the wrinkles out of the tablecloth for the tenth time. My hands were shaking. Tonight was the night. It had to be.

Vincent had passed the bar exam yesterday. The text message had come through in all caps: *I DID IT.* Since then, radio silence. But I knew him. He was probably planning something big. He’d promised me, back when we were eighteen and eating instant noodles on the floor of this very room, that the day he became a lawyer was the day he’d make me his wife.

I looked down at my left hand. My thumb automatically went to twist the ring on my finger, but found only bare skin. A pang of loss hit me in the chest. I had sold my father’s vintage watch—the only thing I had left of him—last week. Vincent’s final semester tuition was due, and we were short. It didn't matter, I told myself. We were a team. His success was our success.

"Just you wait, Riley," I whispered to the empty room. "Tonight changes everything."

The clock on the wall ticked. Seven o'clock. Seven-thirty. Eight.

The lamb was getting cold. The candles were burning low, dripping wax onto the table.

By nine o'clock, the worry started to gnaw at my stomach. Was he hurt? Was there an accident? I grabbed my phone, my fingers fumbling as I opened the safety app we shared. It was a silly thing we installed years ago, but right now, it was my lifeline.

The little blue dot pinged. He wasn't at the law firm. He wasn't at the hospital.

He was at *Le Canard*.

My breath hitched. *Le Canard* was the most exclusive, expensive French restaurant in the city. A place where a single appetizer cost more than my weekly grocery budget. A smile slowly spread across my face. Of course. He didn't come home because he wanted to surprise me. He must be waiting for me there. He probably thought I’d check the app.

I didn't have a fancy dress, but I grabbed my best coat—a wool trench that had seen better days—and ran out the door. The rain was coming down hard, a cold Seattle drizzle that soaked through my shoes instantly, but I didn't care. My heart was pounding with anticipation.

When I arrived, the maître d' looked me up and down with a sneer, his eyes lingering on my wet hair and muddy boots. "Do you have a reservation, miss?"

"I'm meeting my fiancé," I said, breathless. "Vincent Carter."

Before he could stop me, I scanned the dining room. Crystal chandeliers tinkled overhead, and the smell of truffle oil was overwhelming. And then I saw him.

Vincent. My Vincent.

He was sitting at a corner booth, looking more handsome than I had ever seen him in a tailored suit I didn't recognize. But he wasn't alone. Sitting across from him was a woman who looked like she had stepped out of a magazine. Her blonde hair fell in perfect waves, and diamonds glittered at her throat.

Vincent was laughing. He reached across the table and took her hand, his thumb stroking her knuckles in a way he used to do to me.

The world tilted on its axis. The noise of the restaurant faded into a dull roar.

"Vincent?" The name tore out of my throat, raw and confused.

He froze. Slowly, he turned his head. When his eyes met mine, there was no warmth. No love. Only annoyance. The Alpha aura he usually kept suppressed flared out, sharp and stinging.

"Riley?" He didn't stand up. He didn't smile. "What are you doing here?"

"I... I saw you on the app," I stammered, walking closer. The beautiful woman pulled her hand away, looking at me with mild amusement, like I was a stray dog that had wandered indoors.

"Vincent, who is this?" she asked, her voice like silk.

Vincent sighed, a sound of pure exasperation. He looked at the woman—Kennedy, I realized with a jolt. Kennedy Wright. The daughter of the senior partner. "This is Riley. My old roommate. I told you about her charity case."

*Charity case?*

"Roommate?" I whispered, my voice trembling. "Vincent, I'm your fiancée. The dinner... the celebration..."

He stood up then, towering over me. His eyes, usually a warm hazel, were cold as stone. "Lower your voice," he commanded, using his Alpha tone. It hit me like a physical weight, forcing my wolf to whimper in submission. "Don't embarrass me."

He grabbed my arm, his grip bruising, and dragged me away from the table, toward the coat check area. "Look, Riley, I was going to tell you later, but since you decided to stalk me..."

"Stalk you? I made you dinner! I sold my dad's watch for your tuition!" tears burned my eyes, hot and fast.

"And I appreciate the help," he said dismissively, checking his reflection in a nearby mirror. "But things have changed. I'm a lawyer now. I'm going to be a partner one day. Kennedy... she fits that world. You? Look at you, Riley. You smell like flour and wet dog."

The cruelty took my breath away. It was like he had reached into my chest and squeezed my heart until it burst.

"We're done," he stated flatly. "But... look, I'm not heartless. Kennedy and I are moving into a penthouse next week. We need staff. A housekeeper. You're good at cleaning, and you can cook. It pays better than that bakery."

I stared at him. The man I had loved since I was sixteen. The man I had starved for, worked for, bled for. He wasn't just breaking my heart; he was trying to break my spirit.

"You want me to be your maid?" I choked out.

"It's the only way I can help a friend," he shrugged. "Take it or leave it."

I looked back at the table. Kennedy was watching us, swirling her wine, a smirk playing on her red lips. She knew. She knew everything.

"Go to hell, Vincent," I whispered.

I turned and ran. I burst through the heavy oak doors back into the freezing rain. The cold water mixed with the hot tears streaming down my face, blinding me, but I didn't stop running. I ran until my lungs burned, putting as much distance as I could between me and the ruins of my life.