Heat Unleashed: A Reverse Harem Omegaverse Romance, page 6
“Lily Caldwell,” Knox answered. “She’s the only logical choice. It can’t be her—the first incident happened weeks before she even applied here.”
Vincent considered this. “She’s also new enough that she hasn’t formed strong allegiances with other staff. They’d be more likely to speak freely around her.”
“She seems to keep to herself,” Knox added. “Focused on the job, not on making friends.”
He almost brought it up—the injury, her refusal of the anesthetic, the way her hand clamped down on his wrist like she wasn’t fully in the present.
But every instinct told him not to. Not yet.
And for a reason he couldn’t quite explain, he decided not to tell them.
Vincent swirled his bourbon, watching the amber liquid catch the light. “How do we approach her?” Vincent asked, taking another sip of bourbon. “We can’t just ask a kitchen assistant to spy on her colleagues.”
“We offer her additional compensation,” Lucian said simply. “She keeps her current position in the kitchen, which gives her perfect cover, but we pay her extra for information.”
“And if she refuses?” Vincent asked.
“Everyone has a price,” Lucian replied with a shrug. “Hers might not be money, but there’s something she wants. We just need to figure out what it is.”
Knox checked his watch. “We should speak with her tomorrow. The sooner we have eyes in the staff quarters, the better.”
“I’ll speak with her in the morning,” Knox said, decisiveness in his tone. “I’ll tell her to meet us in my office in the security section after lunch service.”
Lucian nodded. “Tomorrow afternoon, then.”
The conversation shifted to club business—profit margins, upcoming events, a VIP client with specific requests—but Vincent found his mind drifting back to Lily Caldwell. Tomorrow would bring her to Knox’s office in the security section, a place few staff members ever saw. It would also bring her into their inner circle, whether she wanted to be there or not.
He couldn’t help but wonder how she would react when confronted by all three of them. Most people would be intimidated, flustered, eager to please.
Somehow, he doubted Lily would follow that pattern.
Chapter 9
Lily
Lily was slipping on her work shoes, her ankle still tender beneath the bandage, when a faint knock sounded at her door. She froze, one foot halfway in. No one had come to her room before. Her first instinct—the one honed by years of vigilance—was to pretend she wasn’t there.
The knock came again, slightly more insistent. Five days into her employment, and trouble had already found her. Swallowing hard, she approached the door and pulled it open just enough to see who stood on the other side.
Knox Adler filled the doorframe, his broad shoulders nearly touching both sides. In the confined space of the hallway, he seemed even larger than she remembered, the stitches on his forehead a stark reminder of his recent injury.
Lily couldn’t help but wonder what had happened to him. There had been whispers in the kitchen about some kind of break-in attempt a few days ago—hushed conversations that abruptly stopped whenever Richard or any of the senior staff entered the room. Marissa had mentioned something about “alphas trying to force their way in,” but clammed up when Lily asked for details. Whatever had happened, it seemed serious enough to leave the head of security with a wound requiring Vincent’s medical attention.
Their eyes met, and for a heartbeat, neither spoke. His emerald gaze was steady, assessing, searching for something in her face.
“We need to speak with you,” he said finally, his voice a low rumble. No preamble, no greeting.
“We?” Lily echoed, her fingers tightening on the door.
“Be in the security section at two o’clock. After lunch service.” His expression gave away nothing. He reached into his pocket and handed her a small, folded piece of paper. “The code is in here. My office is the first door on the left.”
“What is this about?”
“We’ll tell you then.” He turned to leave, then paused. “Don’t mention this to anyone.”
Before she could respond, he was gone, his long strides carrying him swiftly down the hallway.
Lily closed the door, leaning her forehead against the cool wood. God, I hope I’m not getting fired. The thought sent a wave of nausea through her. She needed this job—needed the money more than anything.
What could they possibly want with her? Her mind raced through every interaction she’d had since arriving. Had she said something wrong? Done something to arouse suspicion? Or was this about her injury—some liability issue the club wanted to address?
She finished dressing and headed for the kitchen, a knot of anxiety settling in her stomach.
Morning service passed in a blur. Lily moved mechanically through her tasks, chopping vegetables, washing dishes, plating desserts. Chef Marcel barked orders that barely registered as her mind obsessed over the upcoming meeting.
Marissa noticed her distraction. “You look like you’re about to throw up,” she observed during a rare quiet moment. “The salmon wasn’t that off this morning.”
“Just tired,” Lily replied, forcing a smile that felt more like a grimace.
By the time lunch service ended, her nerves were strung so tight she thought they might snap. She slipped away while the rest of the kitchen staff took their break, making her way to the end of the third-floor hallway where the security section waited behind its imposing black door.
She punched in the code and heard the soft click of the lock disengaging. The door opened to reveal a short corridor lined with monitors displaying various areas of the club. A security guard glanced up from his station, nodded as if he’d been expecting her, and returned to his screens without a word.
The first door on the left bore no identifying marker, but Lily knew it must be Knox’s office. She knocked softly.
“Come in.” The voice belonged to Lucian.
At exactly two o’clock, just as Knox had instructed, Lily stepped into the office. The room was smaller than she’d expected, dimly lit and utilitarian compared to the luxurious spaces she’d seen on the upper floors. Knox sat behind a desk cluttered with files and a laptop. Lucian occupied a chair in front of it, turned to face the center of the room. Vincent stood by the window, arms folded across his chest, the afternoon light casting his profile in sharp relief.
All three men wore variations of the same outfit—button-down shirts with sleeves rolled to expose forearms, dark jeans that probably cost more than her monthly rent at her old apartment.
For the first time in her life, Lily had the faintest idea of what it must feel like to be an omega. These alphas—they were the most alpha alphas she’d ever encountered, and she could imagine no omega would be immune to them. Especially not all three at once, each radiating a different flavor of the same potent energy.
But Lily was a beta, or at least as good as one—thankfully. And while some part of her could appreciate their appeal—she wasn’t blind, after all—she knew she was immune to them, just as she was to every alpha she’d ever met.
“Please, sit.” Lucian gestured to a leather couch positioned against the wall.
Lily perched on the edge of the cushion, her back straight, hands folded in her lap. Self-preservation instincts screamed at her to make herself as small and unremarkable as possible.
“You’re not in trouble,” Knox said, apparently reading the tension in her posture.
“Then why am I here?” She was proud of how steady her voice sounded.
Lucian leaned forward, his dark eyes intent. “What we’re about to discuss stays in this room. You cannot tell anyone—not the kitchen staff, not anyone else in this club, no one. Is that clear?”
Lily nodded, curiosity beginning to edge out anxiety.
“We have a problem,” Knox continued. “Someone within our organization is leaking information about the club to outside parties.”
“A mole,” Vincent added, speaking for the first time. “Specifically, someone providing security codes and system vulnerabilities to a pack of alphas who’ve twice attempted to breach our defenses.”
Lily’s brow furrowed. “What would alphas want with the club? Don’t you cater to them already?”
“Not all alphas can afford our membership fees,” Lucian explained. “And those who can’t sometimes resent those who can. Some might also be looking to steal our client list or proprietary systems. But the reason is less important than the fact that our security infrastructure has been compromised.”
“Why are you telling me this?” Lily asked, though she was beginning to suspect the answer.
Knox’s expression remained unreadable. “We need someone to observe the staff. Someone who isn’t part of the established cliques, someone new enough that they’re not caught up in existing loyalties.”
“You want me to spy for you.” It wasn’t a question.
“We want you to help us identify who might be working against us,” Lucian corrected smoothly. “Which protects not just our business, but everyone who works here. If these alphas bypass our security measures completely, no one inside is safe.”
Lily considered this, measuring risk against reward. “And if I refuse?”
“You’re free to continue your kitchen duties uninterrupted,” Lucian said. “We’d simply find another solution.”
The lack of threat surprised her. She’d expected at least an implied consequence for declining.
“However,” Lucian continued, “if you agree to help us, we’re prepared to increase your compensation substantially. Say, five thousand dollars per week instead of two.”
Lily’s eyes widened before she could control her reaction. Five thousand a week. In three months, she’d have enough to not just buy a car, but to start completely fresh wherever she wanted. A proper apartment, maybe even enough for some community college classes.
“I would have agreed anyway,” she said quietly, surprising herself with the truth of it. “But I won’t turn down the extra money.”
Vincent smiled slightly, the first crack in his serious expression. “Smart woman.”
“What exactly do you want me to do?” Lily asked.
“Listen,” Knox said simply. “Watch. Pay attention to conversations that stop when certain people enter rooms. Note who seems curious about security protocols, who asks questions about security personnel’s schedules or routines. Look for anyone who seems to have more money than their salary would explain.”
“Each evening at eight, you’ll meet us here to report what you’ve observed,” Lucian added. “If you discover something urgently concerning, don’t wait.”
Knox held out his hand. “Your work phone.”
She handed it over without hesitation. He added a contact, then returned it to her. “That’s my direct line. Use it if you need to reach me immediately.”
“No one can know about our arrangement,” Vincent emphasized. “As far as anyone is concerned, you’re still just kitchen staff.”
“I understand,” Lily said, rising from the couch. “Is that all?”
The three men exchanged glances, some unspoken communication passing between them.
“For now,” Lucian confirmed. “We’ll see you tomorrow at eight.”
As Lily moved toward the door, Knox added, “Be careful. If there is a traitor among the staff, they’ve already proven they’re willing to put everyone here at risk.”
She nodded and slipped out, retracing her steps through the security section and back into the main hallway. The weight of their assignment settled onto her shoulders, yet somehow felt lighter than the anxiety she’d carried all morning.
This was something she could do. Staying quiet, observing without being observed—she’d been perfecting those skills her entire life. If anyone could remain invisible while hunting for secrets, it was her.
And five thousand dollars a week? For that kind of money, she’d have remained vigilant anyway. Now she just had to report what she found.
Lily straightened her shoulders and headed back to the kitchen. She had work to do.
Chapter 10
Lucian
The door closed behind Lily with a soft click, leaving the three alphas alone in Knox’s office. For a moment, none of them spoke, each processing the interaction in his own way.
Lucian broke the silence first. “Did you notice what she’s wearing?”
Knox raised an eyebrow. “The staff uniform. Same as everyone else.”
“Yes, but compared to that baggy dress she wore to the interview...” Lucian paused, letting the observation hang in the air.
Ever since that first interview, he’d wondered what her body looked like beneath those shapeless clothes. Now he knew, and the reality hit him like a punch to the gut.
Fuck.
The standard-issue black shirt clung to breasts that were fuller than he’d imagined, her nipples barely visible against the fabric when she moved. The uniform pants hugged the curve of her ass perfectly, revealing a body made for a man’s hands. For his hands.
Vincent’s voice pulled Lucian back to reality. He rubbed his jaw thoughtfully. “On her, the uniform looked... different.”
Lucian glanced at his friend, catching the way Vincent’s gaze lingered on her a second too long. Jesus Christ, he wasn’t the only one. Vincent’s usual cool composure seemed strained, a subtle tension sharpening his features. Something about that kitchen assistant had both of them distracted.
“I noticed alright,” Vincent added, almost to himself.
Knox’s chair creaked as he leaned back. “She’s a staff member. We need to be professional.”
“Don’t tell me you didn’t notice?” Vincent challenged.
Knox didn’t respond, but his silence was answer enough. All three of them—powerful alphas who could have their pick of willing partners—were now fucking fixated on a beta kitchen assistant. Their primal instincts had locked onto her like predators scenting rare prey, despite every logical reason to ignore her existence entirely.
Lucian moved to the window, gazing out at the carefully manicured rooftop garden below. What was it about her? He couldn’t explain it to himself, let alone articulate it to the others. She was beautiful, no question, but he’d been with objectively more stunning women without feeling this pull. It wasn’t just her personality, which remained largely unknown. Perhaps it was the mystery—the complete absence of reaction from her, the blank slate where a scent should be, the cool assessment in her eyes where he was accustomed to seeing either desire or fear.
“What happened the other day?” Lucian asked suddenly, turning back to face the room. “Was there some sort of accident?”
Vincent paused, as if weighing how much to share. “In the kitchen. She dropped a knife and cut her leg. I had to patch her up.”
“It wasn’t serious, was it?” The question escaped before Lucian could consider how it sounded—too concerned, too personal.
“Just a small gash,” Vincent assured him. “Six stitches. She barely flinched.”
Lucian caught himself wondering what it had felt like to touch her—if her skin was as cool as her demeanor, if Vincent had felt the same inexplicable pull he’d experienced during their interview. The question burned on his tongue, but pride kept it unspoken.
Vincent swallowed visibly, his eyes meeting Lucian’s with unexpected directness. “It felt nice,” he said quietly, answering the unasked question. “Touching her skin.”
The admission hung in the air between them, uncomfortably revealing.
Christ, they were behaving like fucking schoolboys—powerful alphas who had bedded countless omegas and betas, reduced to discussing how a woman’s skin felt. Men who ran a multi-million dollar empire, who commanded respect in every room they entered, suddenly fixated on a woman who’d barely seemed to register that they were alphas.
Knox cleared his throat. “We need to stay professional. There’s a serious security threat to address.”
“Agreed,” Lucian said firmly, grateful for Knox’s pragmatism. “We can’t afford distractions, no matter how... intriguing they might be.”
“Besides,” Vincent added, “she seems completely unaffected by us. All three of us. When have you ever met a woman—beta or otherwise—who showed zero response to an alpha’s proximity?”
Knox’s lips curved in a wry smile. “That’s part of the allure, isn’t it? She looks at us like we’re just... people. Not alphas.”
Lucian wouldn’t admit it aloud, but Knox had hit upon something true. In a world where his designation often preceded his identity, being seen without that filter was novel, refreshing even. Lily Caldwell responded to them as individuals, not as alphas, and that alone made her stand out.
“It doesn’t matter,” Lucian said decisively. “Let’s focus on the task at hand.”
His friends nodded in agreement, the three of them silent in their shared resolution to maintain boundaries—and their shared awareness of how easily those boundaries could blur.
The next evening, promptly at eight, Lily appeared at Knox’s office door. Her uniform was rumpled from a full day’s work, a smudge of flour on her sleeve, her braid slightly looser than it had been the day before. She looked tired but alert, sliding into the same spot on the couch without being asked.
“Well?” Knox prompted.
“Nothing concrete yet,” she began, her voice measured. “But I’ve noticed a few things worth mentioning.”
For twenty minutes, she detailed her observations—which staff members seemed to disappear during breaks, who asked unusual questions, snippets of conversations that stopped abruptly when she approached. She’d compiled mental notes with impressive thoroughness, considering she’d been balancing surveillance with her kitchen duties.
“Marissa tends to disappear for about fifteen minutes during each shift,” she noted. “But I think that has more to do with the Supply Assistant than any security concerns.”
