Chapter 4
1280words
"SPONSORED OVERSEAS EXHIBITION AND TRAINING PROGRAM"
The bold lettering sent a wave of excitement through the office.
"Holy shit, this is huge! Three months at a top international design exhibition, studying with industry legends!"
"Get selected for this and your resume will be golden when you come back!"
Excited chatter filled the room, everyone's eyes gleaming with possibility.
I clutched my pen, heart racing. This opportunity had my name written all over it.
Beside me, Lily leaned in, her voice uncertain. "Maggie, are you applying too?"
I nodded without hesitation. "Absolutely."
She bit her lip, eyes darting away, and fell silent.
That afternoon, just before the application deadline, I walked past the manager's office with a stack of documents.
The door stood ajar, revealing Lily pacing the worn patch of floor near the entrance.
The application in her hand was crumpled and damp with sweat.
That single sheet might as well have weighed a ton.
Her face was taut, lips pressed into a bloodless line—waging some internal war.
Finally, the battle ended.
With a sharp rip.
The application—carrier of so many dreams—became confetti in her trembling hands.
She released her grip, letting the fragments flutter into the nearby trash can.
Just like her abandoned ambition.
She turned and caught my eye.
She didn't seem surprised—rather, she looked relieved to have found a target for her emotions.
"Do you really love Luke that much?"
Her voice cut through the office's afternoon quiet like broken glass.
"You know his mother hates you. Why can't you just back down? Do you enjoy making Luke choose between you two?"
I stopped and stared at her.
Her entire body trembled—from anger or something else, I couldn't tell.
"What the hell are you talking about?"
"A proper Omega knows how to sacrifice for her Alpha!" She stepped toward me, chin raised, reciting like it was gospel.
"Even if you suffer, isn't it worth it to keep peace? Look at you—always competing, always showing off. You're driving him away!"
Her voice rose to a near-shout.
"What do you even love about him? His money? His status as the golden boy?"
"If you really loved him, you'd stay and fix things, not run off overseas to boost your ego! You don't deserve him!"
Her twisted logic was so absurd I actually laughed.
Ha.
"Lily," I said slowly, each word precise and clear, "Omegas aren't born to be caretakers, and we sure as hell don't exist to sacrifice ourselves for others."
"My parents raised me carefully, educated me well, and showed me the world—not so I could bow and scrape for my husband's approval."
I lifted my chin, meeting her glare head-on.
"I'd rather see how far I can go on my own than spend my life dependent on an Alpha."
"I am not—and will never be—what you call a 'proper Omega.'"
"If that's what you want to be, knock yourself out."
Our confrontation drew whispers from nearby colleagues.
"Maggie's too aggressive. Shouldn't Omegas be gentle and submissive?"
"Right? She's embarrassing Luke. So selfish."
But others disagreed.
"What century are we living in? Women deserve careers! Team Maggie all the way!"
"Damn straight! Independence is dignity!"
These debates—these "social norms"—try to force all Omegas into the same mold. As if only self-sacrificing Omegas deserve love stories or qualify as "heroines."
But I refuse to fit their mold.
In the end, I got the overseas position.
My name stood out in bold on the final selection list posted on the bulletin board.
No appeals. No changes.
All the whispers and criticisms evaporated in an instant.
The night before my departure…
Luke said nothing, just methodically folded my clothes, his movements deliberate and precise.
Cedar scent filled the room, heavy with unspoken longing.
I was obsessing over my checklist when warm arms encircled me from behind.
Luke pulled me against his chest, his chin resting on my shoulder, breath warm against my ear.
"I'll miss you, Maggie."
His voice was low and rough.
I turned to touch his face, but he caught my wrist midair, gripping it tightly.
He pulled me closer.
"But I support you."
Each word rang clear and true.
"Go fly. Explore. Do whatever you dream of. Become the Maggie you want to be."
"No matter how long or how far—I'll be here waiting."
His cedar scent enveloped me completely—warm, solid, real.
No Alpha dominance. No controlling undertones.
His strength wasn't a cage but a foundation.
He released me and zipped my suitcase with a decisive click.
"Don't worry about my mother."
He patted the suitcase, voice steady again.
"I'll handle it."
Three days after my departure, the CEO's office on the top floor remained lit well into the night.
Cedar scent permeated every corner, yet couldn't mask the bone-deep emptiness.
Luke's pen hovered over a document, reluctant to make its mark.
His eyes drifted past stacks of reports to the empty chair opposite his desk.
He could almost sense me there—a phantom trace of lemongrass that always calmed his restless pheromones.
But now, he sat alone.
A soft knock sounded, and before he could answer, the door cracked open.
A cloying peach scent crept in, attempting to neutralize his sharp cedar.
Lily.
She carried a food container, her face a perfect mask of concern.
"Mr. Evans, working late again? I brought you a snack—you must be forgetting to eat properly."
Luke didn't look up from his papers.
"Leave it there."
Lily set the container down but didn't retreat. She leaned forward, hands on his desk, her peach scent intensifying—deliberately soothing.
"Your cedar has turned bitter," she murmured with practiced Omega fragility. "Carrying the whole company alone must be so hard."
Luke's grip on his pen tightened.
"Unlike some people who abandoned you for their own ambitions." Her words dripped with false sympathy, targeting his vulnerabilities.
"Mr. Evans, remember when—"
Lily's voice turned wistful.
"When we were seven, you fell into that pond at the park? No one else was around… somehow I found the courage to save you."
She wielded the memory like a weapon, trying to forge a connection.
"I've always—"
Her peach scent thickened, almost visible as it wrapped around his wrists and invaded his senses—seductive, possessive.
"Enough."
Luke slammed his pen down.
"Get. Out. Now."
Three words, cold as steel.
Lily's vulnerable mask slipped, her pheromones wavering. "Mr. Evans… I was only concerned—"
"HR will contact you tomorrow." Luke leaned back, disappearing into shadow. "Process your resignation papers."
Lily paled. "Why? Because I spoke badly of Maggie? I was worried about you! She doesn't deserve—"
"Worried about me?"
Luke's laugh was ice as he stood, his tall frame looming.
"After you 'saved' me, my father gave your family enough money to support three generations."
He advanced slowly, his cedar scent turning razor-sharp, shredding her peach fragrance to nothing.
"That money settled any debt of gratitude."
His voice was deadly calm. "Now the money's gone, you suddenly remember me?"
Lily backed away until she hit the door.
Her mask completely shattered, the pitiful act abandoned.
Her eyes turned venomous, her peach scent souring to something bitter and rotten.
"Fine! I want money! What's wrong with that?" she nearly screamed. "I'm an Omega—if I don't use an Alpha, what else do I have? Not everyone's lucky like precious Maggie!"
She straightened, her face twisted with desperate rage.
"I've worked so hard playing this game, and you don't even care! You'll regret this, Luke!"
"My only regret," Luke towered over her, "is not throwing you out sooner."
Lily glared at him, chest heaving, then yanked the door open and fled without looking back.
SLAM!
