Chapter 7

In a pitch-black hotel room, I opened my eyes. I wiped my face with a sleeve as I sat on the bed. My breathing was rapid, like though I were escaping from someone in my dream. I eventually managed to calm down by taking several long breaths. The room was empty. There was no TV on, and the sky over bustling New York City was clear. I heard the rumble of people and the beeping of cars. I got up and shut the balcony door because the room was getting a little chilly. It went completely silent all of a sudden.

Out of the other room, I could hear Jane's voice. She was talking to someone in the living room. I put on the white hotel robe and the slippers. I entered stealthily after quietly approaching the door. Jane was on her back with me, talking on the phone. While checking something on her laptop, she was also listening to someone. I moved forward when I spotted the plate with the covered meal on the table.

I waved at Jane and sat down at the table, whispering inaudibly, "Hello."

Jane sat at the head of the oval table, and my seat was somewhere in the middle. There were ten chairs in total. They were all elegantly styled and embroidered in gold. I took a bite of the warm steak and vegetables after opening the plate.

"Wow, you've actually woken up," Jane remarked softly as she set the phone down on the table.

I hardly smiled as I said, "Yeah."

"Since last night, you slept for nearly a day. Do you have any memories?"

I shook a little in amazement and had the impression that something inside of me had tightened.

"Ranold spotted you in the club and drove you home. You experienced delirium and went wild." Jane said.

"How did I behave?" I asked, noticing that my fingers were quivering a little, and set the fork aside.

"You acted like a total bullshit." I was completely devastated by her statements. I humbly shut my eyes and prepared myself to hear what was said next. "You turned into a complete mess and looked drunk. You started to vomit and continued to do so all night. You were being held by Ranold over the toilet, and you kept pushing him away whenever he attempted to help you. It seemed like the medication the doctor provided you started working just at the end of the night, though I'm not sure how many times he gave you a cold shower. You shook like a sick drug addict and cried for more. You also begged him to kill you or release you since you always wanted to damage yourself and other employees. Only sometimes did I hear that startling yelling of anguish from where I was. He spent the entire night next to you, and in the morning, you finally nod off. Oh my, it got so quiet then. You know, if it weren't for Ranold, I would unquestionably shoot you with my own gun to end your agony. Being his husband is a lucky break for you."

Nothing she told me stayed in my memory. I was listening to that strange boy in her narrative and couldn't believe it was me. I was unable to eat anymore. I simply got up and went back to my room. Many things were on my mind.

Jane yelled out, grabbing my wrist and peering directly into my eyes. "You weren't at blame for it. Though only Ranold and I saw you acting like garbage, you did. You shouldn't be concerned because you didn't disparage Hamilton's reputation."

I gave a small nod before finally coming around the door.

I heard Jane's rising voice on the other side of the door saying, "If I hear any tears from you, I will come and strangle you with my own hands. Have the guts to not undo what he done for you by just sitting there and feeling sorry for yourself."

I hurriedly raced to the bed and got on it, covering myself with the blanket while attempting to keep my tears from flowing down my face. A whimper escaped my tightly clinched lips. My hands were clasped together over my chest. Ranold Hamilton's pride irritated me. I resented that he didn't just throw me away and declare I wasn't worth anything. I detested his efforts to elevate me to his level of equality. I detested him.

And I feared him. He murdered a man. I understood it. He committed a murder. He may also harm me in a similar way. He was my husband. And this was the thing I was most terrified of. I watched the ring on my hand as I peered outside the cover. A gorgeous, golden ring that wasn't thin or wide enough. With his initials. I turned the ring around on my finger. Removing it terrified me too much. I sighed and rolled onto my left side, gripping the pillow. I calmed down with a deep breath before eventually closing my eyes.

***

The following morning, Jane woke me up and said, "You know what?," while victoriously holding out her golden credit card as she lied on my bed next to me under the duvet. "Ranold said we could buy whatever we wanted before he left on business. We have plenty of time to have fun since he will be gone for a week. I'll show you the world of glitz! Get out of bed, and let's go across New York together!"

We spent the following three days strolling through New York's streets, taking in the city's winding lanes, its central park, its breathtaking river views, and its warm, bright weather. Our "luxurious" week's fifth day started out with a heavy downpour. Jane, though, showed no signs of anger. She took me to some incredible, if not tremendously wealthy and beautiful, restaurants and art galleries. Being there, atop one of the tallest structures in the world, was beyond my comprehension.

I was able to unwind a little thanks to these activities and start considering other things. Joking, conversing, asking questions, and responding were all things Jane was doing. I felt like I was just a nice decoration that she didn't need. You know how wealthy people buy tiny dogs just to carry them around in tiny Chanel bags under their arms? Still, I was content. For a little period of time, I was able to forget about my daily activities and completely immerse myself in New York culture.

We took a lot of images together in fact, and I even gave my sister a couple of them. Jane seemed to be completely enamored with photography as she shot numerous photos of both herself and me. The following day, we went shopping in New York's most exclusive and pricey malls and boutiques. We purchased a few handbags, pieces of jewelry, dresses, pants, shorts, and t-shirts. Generally, for Jane. I wasn't really addicted to shopping, but I did enjoy trying on new clothes and checking out my own image in the mirror. But the five-number pricing on each item frightened me more than anything else. Even though Jane appeared excited, I was afraid to purchase something so pricey.

She was observing the underpants with obvious interest.

She pulled me into the changing room and said, "Hey, Olivier, try this." She handed me three hangers with various white, black, and red laces on them.

I began, "B-but..."

"I don't want to be bothered. Just put this on." she claimed to have shut the door.

I felt shame. I'd never worn 'special' underwear before. I took off my clothes and put on the black lace panties over my dark hipsters. It didn't appear to be as horrible as I had anticipated. The bra caught my attention, though. I was perplexed since it was sheer.

"Does anyone wear it underneath casual clothes?" I considered putting on the bra.

Except for the fact that my entire chest and nipples were visible through the tiny holes in the lace, it actually looked rather decent and was fairly comfortable.

Jane opened the door and started to ask, "How's everything going?" but she stopped when she saw me and raised her phone to take a photo of me in the mirror. "I'll forward this to Ranold. Look forward to seeing how quickly he returns."

"What?!" I squealed and reached out to her, but she had already shown me the phone with the delivered message of me in the mirror.

I became pale.

"We'll purchase this. And those two as well, " stated she and I realized I had no other options.

I sighed since I was powerless against her. We were stuck in a line. Jane was using my husband's credit card to purchase the clothing when I unexpectedly noticed the suppressants on the stall.

"Can we purchase these as well?" Jane received two pill blasters from me after I asked a discrete question.

"What's for?" She acted as though she was shocked that I told her to buy some cocaine for me.

"These are suppressants. Neither at home nor in the hotel do I have them. Please be b..."

She cut me off, waving her hand at me as if I were a bothersome mosquito buzzing around, "You don't need those," she said.

I began, "But... Please!"

She, however, paid me no attention at all. I was feeling hopeless. The heat should have started soon, and I would have to spend it alone. The worst part is that I would be writhing on the bed, pleading with my body for something hard, and Ranold Hamilton would just use me for the entire four days because he would see me turning into a horny bitch.

It was dreadful, dreadful, and horrific to be an omega in the heat. You turned crazy and developed a sex addiction. You always plead for more of it. It was something I picked up at school from other alphas and omegas. Our sexual education instructor informed us that pregnancy could only occur during the heat wave because it is such a difficult time for omegas. In this way, youths' use of suppressants as pregnancy control. However, older pupils told us that the other side was the genuine story. We were acquainted with certain omegas and occasionally encountered them at gatherings. They lost all self-control, went berserk, and were willing to cling to anyone to help their bodies chill off a little.

I vowed to myself that I would never, ever behave that way. I've seen and heard enough. I was going to become a groaning corpse with a moist ass without the suppressants. The hardest part was that Ranold Hamilton would be nearby. He would simply take advantage of me for four days before abandoning me without any respect or dignity. I'd feel terrible. Jane ought to have realized that, right? That was a question I was unable to respond to. And the way she looked. She gave me an odd, slightly stupid expression. I took one more glance at the suppressants.

"At all costs, I'll obtain them." I gave myself a pledge.