Chapter 3

Harlow

“Mr. Bowman, she is here, but we have an issue. Mr. Keller also purchased this girl tonight before you called about the mix up,” Mr. Black admits. A growl comes from the intercom, and I swear it shakes the windows and I feel his threatening aura through the phone.

“Doesn’t matter; I bought her originally. I have a claim, so give him his money back!” the first man growls, sounding equally as pissed off as his opponent.

“See, that’s the issue. If it were only the money, I could simply fix it, Mr. Bowman.”

“Then what is it?” the annoyed man snaps.

Mr. Black shoots me a glare over his shoulder, his lips pulling back over his teeth in a snarl, and I drop my gaze to my lap.

“I already injected her with Mr. Keller’s serum,” Mr. Black answers.

“You what?” Mr. Keller roars through the phone, making Mr. Black jump.

“So, wait, what does that mean? Fucking reverse his serum,” Mr. Bowman argues.

I can’t understand why these men are still trying to negotiate since both of them seem equally unhappy about the serum already being injected.

“Like fuck you will; that was the last of my serum!” Mr. Keller snarls.

Okay, at that point, I take back my previous observation. The injection isn’t the issue; the lack of serum is.

“Not my fucking problem, Keller,” Mr. Bowman snarls as I take the risk of peeking at Mr. Black. He’s rubbing his temples as if he has a headache.

“Mr. Bowman, you know it can’t be reversed. If you can’t share, I’m sorry, but I have to hand her over to Mr. Keller. He marked his pack last night. His DNA is no longer pure, and that was the last of his serum,” Mr. Black explains. I gasp. Mr. Keller, whoever he is, will now have to rely solely on me to produce an heir!

“I don’t see how that is my issue; it’s not my fault he didn’t take more samples before marking his pack mates!”

Mr. Black sighs, clearly done with the pointless arguing back and forth. “I have five other girls that rank in the high forties. You can take your pick or try them all, but I am sorry, Mr. Bowman. You have eighteen samples left, and this is Mr. Keller’s last sample.”

“Whatever you paid him, I will cover it,” Mr. Keller interrupts.

Mr. Bowman remains quiet, waiting for Mr Black’s rulings.

“And you can have the other girls,” Mr. Black adds.

I glare at him, equally shocked and disgusted with the man.

“Fine, fine, we have a deal,” Mr. Bowman gives in, and Mr. Black sighs before he pins me with his glare.

“I will wire the money to you, Bowman, and Black?” Mr Keller adds.

“Yes, Alpha Keller.”

“I will send my mother to pick up the girl; she will remain with her until she turns eighteen.”

“Very well. I will personally remain with her to ensure no more blunders.”

“Make sure you do because your life now depends on it,” Mr. Keller warns Mr. Black before hanging up.

Tears stream down my cheeks. My sister is gone, and I’ve been sold, again. Fate is beyond cruel.

The very next day, a woman in a flashy-looking sports car comes to retrieve me. Her clothes scream money, and her dark hair and equally dark eyes are vibrant. She wears an elegant suit and stilettos, her smile is soft, and her tone of voice is kind. I find her energy soothing as she escorts me to the car. The moment I climb in with my satchel full of Zara’s stuff, she turns on me.

I jump in fright, tugging the shoulder strap higher and getting ready to use it as a shield. “Who marked up your face? Did that prick Black do that?” she asks, her hand reaching to cup my cheek.

Her touch is feather-light, her thumb brushing over my swollen eyelid. She clicks her tongue, glaring at the place I called home for far too many years.

“Very well, my son will deal with him,” she says, starting the car with a growl.

We drive in silence. Doesn’t it bother her that her son literally bought a breeder? Maybe she was acquired the same way. Most Omegas enjoy this lifestyle, yet I see the bitter truths of the control the Alphas have.

“Are you hungry, Harlow?” she asks as we go around a sharp bend, heading into town.

“A little,” I admit. She nods.

“I saw a nice little restaurant on the way here. We will stop and grab a bite to eat,” she says, reaching for my hand. She gives it a gentle squeeze before gripping the steering wheel again.

We arrive at the diner and eat, sharing very little in conversation, as I am still very uncertain about her son and his mates. I don’t want to end up with the life of a breeder, being mounted solely for heirs. Hana, as she introduced herself, attempts to reassure me of her son’s intentions. She says they want more than heirs. They want a mate to love and grow old with. Upon getting back in the car, Hana talks again about Mr. Keller as she merges onto the highway.

“No need to be frightened. My son is a good man, and so are his pack mates. You’ll like them,” she says, smiling at me.

I am about to ask her their names when suddenly, we’re hit. A truck slams into the side of our car and tosses the little vehicle into the barrier. She screams, blood gushing from her head where she banged it on the steering wheel when the truck starts to back up.

It stops before accelerating and hitting us again. When the door crashes into my side, glass rains down all over the place, and the car begins to roll down the hill. The creak and groan of metal is loud, but not as loud as our screams. The car finally stops and lands on its roof. I stupidly unplug my seatbelt and fall to the roof, the glass tearing my hands apart.

Mrs. Keller is slumped and dangling from her seat. I hear men shouting from the road.

“Down here, quick. Grab the bitch, and let’s go!”

I blink, blood tainting my vision from the gash on my head, and I shake the woman. She groans, peering around as the voices grow closer. She turns, and I will never forget the look she gives me. One of pure fear before she screams at me.

“Run! Run, Harlow. They are coming for you!” she screams.

I don’t need to be told twice.

Snatching my satchel off the roof, I clamber out, my back tearing open on a jagged piece of metal, and I hear her fall out of her seat behind me. I start running like she told me, expecting her to catch up. I have no idea what is going on, but I do as she asked, trusting this woman blindly. Only, she never catches up, and I stumble blindly into the woods.