His Purchased Omega

"Finally getting rid of that useless Omega upstairs," his father snorts, clinking glasses with his guests like they were sealing a business deal. "Little shit's been a drain since his mother died. But tonight? He'll pay my debts in full."

Julian's stomach drops where he's pressed against the worn out wooden doors.

He knows the men downstairs are not the usual low-life gamblers his father keeps company with. These voices carry the kind of danger that makes your hair stand on end.

One of the stranger's voices reaches him. "You understand that Enzo Moretti doesn't take refunds? Once the deal's done, your boy belongs to him forever."

Julian's blood runs cold.

*Enzo Moretti.* The name alone sends ice sliding down Julian's spine. He has heard it whispered in dark corners of his father's gambling shop–owner of one of the city's largest firearms trade networks, rumored to be one of the biggest supporters of auctions and private clubs where desperate families sell their Omegas.

Enzo is said to be as ruthless as he was powerful: a dominant Alpha with unstable pheromones that turned him feral during ruts.

Even his loyal staff are said to avoid his penthouse when the strongest episodes hit. Omegas who entered his world often disappeared.

Julian's hands tremble. He pictures endless nights of being used and discarded–a virgin Omega's worst nightmare.

His father's voice rises again, smug. "He's untouched, you know? Twenty one and still sweet. That should sweeten the price."

"Untouched Omegas are rare, especially male ones," another man rumbled. "Enzo's been looking for a new toy after the last one... broke. But you say he's recessive? I'm not sure Mr. Moretti would want him."

"You say he gets triggered by harsh scents?" his father cut in eagerly, pitching him like he's trying to pitch a business deal. "Then the boy's perfect–sweet, tamed, and scentless."

The man pauses. "Enzo doesn't like surprises, Ruiz. This Omega better be worth the debt forgiveness. Recessive or not, if he triggers the boss..."

"He won't," his father assures them. "I've broken him enough. You have my word."

The men look between themselves, skeptical, before they finally nod in agreement. "Fine. We'll take him. Have him prepared by morning."

Glasses clinked again, sealing Julian's fate like a sick joke.

He backs away silently, bare feet cold on the tiles, bile rising in his throat.

The wall clock reads 2:17 a.m. Dawn was hours away, but if he could escape now– they would never find him.

Julian slips into his tiny bedroom if it could be called that. The windows are cracked, there's a narrow bed, and a peeling dresser staring back at him like some sick joke.

He doesn't hesitate. He pries open a drawer and grabs his mother's necklace: the delicate silver chain with its small green pendant, the last piece of her he had left.

From his father's jacket hanging in the hallway, he steals thick wads of gambling cash and stuffs them into his hoodie. No bag. No extra clothes. Just his sneakers pulled on without socks.

Nothing that can slow him down.

He pushes the window open, making the men upstairs pause. He hears them curse under their breaths, then heavy footsteps climbing up the stairs.

He doesn't wait. He practically throws himself through the window and drops hard, his ankle bending on impact.

"Shit!" He groans as pain shoots up his leg. "This is the fucking worse timing!"

He shoves the window shut and limps down the narrow passage, dodging overflowing dumpsters. Behind him, the front door slams open. Followed by a set of angry footsteps.

"Julian! You little bastard, get back here!"

'Like shit' he mumbles to himself, cutting into the dark alleyway a few blocks away. And by some miracle, he makes it quite far without his father or the other men catching him.

Far enough that the streets start to go eerily quiet. Julian almost thinks he's escaped–until three Alphas step out, blocking his path.

They stink of alcohol and lust.

"Well, what do we have here?" one slurs. "Running from something, little Omega?"

Julian slowly backs up. One he can try to take, but three huge Alphas? "Stay away from me!"

Of fucking course they don't back up. If anything they come closer, laughing.

One grabs his jaw. "Looks sweet, and look–he's unmarked. Bet he'd taste even better."

They slam him against a brick wall, dragging his jeans and underwear down. Their combined dominant scents hit him hard, weakening his knees despite his recessive nature. For the first time in years, his own pheromones leak in fear, egging them on more.

Julian tries to fight, kicking and biting, but it's useless against three of them. "Hold him down. This won't take long."

A black SUV screeched to a halt nearby, making them pause. They turn to growl at the interruption, but freeze.

A tall, broad figure steps out. Power and aura rolling off him in. Broad shoulders, narrow waist, long legs in tailored pants. Rolled-up sleeves reveal tattooed forearms, and his eyes are a cold shade of silver.

The eyes of the men grow wide in fear. "What's Enzo fucking doing here?"

Julian's blinks, staring at the man. *This* Is Enzo Moretti? He'd been expecting some old fat man with too much facial hair.

But this... this man is more like a model than a mafia king--extremely handsome, young but terrifying all at once.

Enzo feels his gaze, and his eyes fall on Julian, then down his half naked frame.

Julian's cheek heats, it feels like Enzo is digging into his soul. He forces his gaze away.

His scent–-released from earlier, still lingering in the air–-reaches Enzo. His nose twitches as he takes in the very faint vanilla scent.

The scent for some reason makes the Alpha's expression change. His silver eyes have gone from annoyance to hunger-- but not crazed like the men behind him.

Darker, greedier.

"Get off him," Enzo commands. He doesn't need to shout, his pheromones and the weight of his name do the talking.

The Alphas hesitate, reluctant to get away from the sweet omega they've caught. But finally they step back, muttering curses.

Julian struggles to yank his jeans up with trembling hands, refusing to meet Enzo's dark silver eyes as he walks closer.

He doesn't smile, his face is completely flat. But his eyes? they rake over Julian's beautiful face, the green eyes and lean body instantly catch his attention. Then it drops– trailing his cock slowly. Julian manages to quickly zip up, feeling shy under his gaze.

The mafia's face folds into a devilish grin that makes Julian's heart race, despite the fear creeping down his spine.

He also realizes that Enzo doesn't seem to recognize him as his new purchase yet. He thinks he's just a random Omega on the streets.

Just as he'd thought, Enzo pulls out a thick wad of cash--more than Julian has ever seen in his life-- and holds it out.

"Spend the night with me." He says it so casually, like he's asking for the time, "One night. I'll make it worth your while and give you much more if you're good."

Julian blinks at the offer, stunned. Who the fuck just hands a random man cash to sleep with them?

He stands slowly, ignoring the pain in his legs and shoulders.

He just needs to get the fuck away from here before Enzo finally realizes who he is.

"I-I can't." He meets Enzo's eyes, completely certain now that the bastard doesn't know who he is. "And I don't want your money."

Enzo surprisingly isn't offended by the refusal, he just chuckles darkly. "I apologize if it sounded like I was asking your opinion."

Enzo turns around, signaling for his men to call the other group of Alphas back.

What the fuck–

Julian had thought he'd escaped, but he's apparently just walked straight into the arms of the man he was trying to avoid.

"Pick, pretty boy. It's either them, or me, tonight."

Julian stands in the middle of luxurious suite of a five-star hotel in downtown Los Angeles.

He still can't believe he agreed to this-- not like he really had a choice. It was either an attractive mafia lord, or getting gang raped by a group of dirty Alphas.

Fuck his life.

Behind him, Enzo locks the door after them, unbuttoning his shirt with deliberate calm.

The thick wad of cash sits on the nightstand, a silent reminder of their deal. One night for ten thousand dollars.

Julian seats stiffly at the edge of the bed, watching Enzo pour himself a glass of Champagne, when suddenly Enzo freezes.

The glint in his silver eyes completely vanishes as his pheromones flood the room, filling every inch with strong coffee and earth, wrapping around Julian, even stronger than the scent of those three men combined.

He whimpers, leg tightening as slick runs down his thighs. The realization hits him-- Enzo's unstable pheromones are acting up again.

He's in rut.

And for some reason, his silent wolf is also reacting to it.

Enzo's eyes darken, pupils hazy, "Fuck," he mutters, slamming the glass hard enough that it cracks. "It's hitting harder than usual tonight."

His hand shoots out, gripping Julian's wrist hard enough to bruise. "On the bed. Now."

Julian's heart races. He knows he can't run. Not from this. He's scared and trembling-- but still extremely turned on.

He climbs onto the mattress, hoodie already stripped away, leaving him in just his jeans. Enzo follows, shedding his trousers to reveal a sculpted tattooed torso, marked with faint scars.

Enzo doesn't undress him gently. He yanks Julian's jeans down in one harsh tug, exposing pale skin and the delicate curve of his ass. "Your scent is so faint, just the way I like it," he mutters, shoving Julian face-down into the pillows.

His cock is already hard, thick and heavy against Julian's thigh. No prep, no mercy. He pushes his thighs apart, watching the slick dripping with a pining lustfulness.

"Acting so fucking prude, when you're just as desperate."

Then he spits into his palm, slicks himself roughly, and lines up, pushing in with a single, savage thrust.

"F-uck, please..ah..slow.." Julian cries out clawing at the pillows, the stretch burns like fire. He's untouched, tight, but Enzo doesn't pause, driven by his heat.

The Alpha bottoms out, hips slamming forward, burying himself to the hilt. "Take it," Enzo snarls, voice gravely. His pheromones surge, flooding the room, making Julian's head spin and his own body soften, arching up even more to meet his thrusts.

Enzo fucks him like a man possessed. Hard, punishing strokes that rock the heavy bed frame against the wall.

Each thrust drives deep, the sound of skin slapping skin echoing obscenely in the room. Julian bites the pillow to muffle his own shameful moans, tears prickling in his eyes.

Enzo notices and growls, dragging him on all fours without pulling out. He angles his hips and slams back in, hitting right on his prostrate.

Julian's eyes roll to the back of his head, as a loud moan tears from his throat, unable to hold it in, body jolting with so much pleasure that he starts shaking uncontrollably.

Enzo's hand fists in his hair, yanking his head back. "Good little Omega, make those pretty sounds for me...hmm?"

He grips his hips, pulling him back onto every thrust. "You're so fuck! So tight. Made for my cock."

Julian whimpers, moaning uncontrollably at the relentless pound behind him.

And as the rut takes full control. Enzo's movements turn animalistic-- faster, deeper, grinding against that spot inside Julian that forces unwanted sparks of pleasure through the pain.

Julian screams, broken and raw, his cock hardening beneath him despite the roughness. Enzo reaches around, stroking him with calloused hands in time with his thrusts, squeezing until Julian's vision blurs.

Sweat slicks their bodies. The necklace bounces against Julian's chest with every hard thrust. .

"Mine tonight," Enzo hisses, biting down on Julian's shoulder hard enough to draw blood. "Say it! Fuck!"

"Y-yours..." Julian whispers, his mind a static of pleasure.

Close to the edge, Enzo lets his knot swell inside, forcing Julian wider. The pressure is unbearable but exquisite, his jaw slacks, parting in a silent scream.

It sends him over the edge first, spilling over Enzo's fist and the sheets. Enzo follows with a loud groan, flooding him deep, rutting through the orgasm in rough, uneven jerks until Julian feels completely raw, leaking cum trickling down his thighs.

They collapse, Enzo's weight pinning him as he stays buried inside, his knot locking them together.

Slowly, after a few minutes of dragging heavy breaths, the feral haze in his eyes clears. Enzo lifts his head, inhaling deeply.

His pheromones... they've gone quiet.

The usual storm inside him--the insatiable rage that terrifies even his own men--has settled into a low, calm hum. Enzo blinks, staring down at Julian's trembling form beneath him.

For the first time in years, the unstable feeling he has carried for so long feels muted.

"What the fuck are you?" Enzo murmurs, pulling back slightly, making Julian gasp. "One fuck and my head is clear. No episodes. No rage."

Julian doesn't respond to the comment, completely exhausted, and aching from the relentless pounding. His hole throbs around Enzo's softening cock, sore but full.

He convinces himself that the money could give him a new life, far away, before Enzo realizes he's the one his men are looking for.

But as Enzo pulls him closer, blunt head already stiffening inside his hole again, Julian realizes the night might not end with just one round.

"I'll double the money." Enzo's lips brush his ear, tone low and dangerous. "I want to go another round."

Julian wakes to sunlight slicing through the half-open curtains of the hotel suite. His body aches everywhere--deep bruises on his hips, a bite mark throbbing on his neck, and a raw soreness between his legs that makes every shift painful. The sheets cling to his skin, sticky with the remnants of last night's frenzy.

The man is a beast in bed!

Enzo's pheromones still linger in the room, but they smell far calmer now, settling with the Aircon.

Enzo stands by the window, already dressed in a crisp black shirt and trousers, scrolling through his phone. The two thick stacks of cash remain untouched on the nightstand.

Julian sits up slowly, wincing as he reaches for his discarded hoodie and jeans scattered on the floor.

"You're leaving," Enzo states, not a question. He turns, eyes tracing Julian's marked neck and the way he limps toward his clothes. His silver eyes flash possessively.

Julian doesn't respond, pulling his jeans back up with trembling hands.

Enzo frowns slightly. "Give me your number. I'll call you over when I need you again. I'll pay good."

Julian pauses, fingers tightening around his mother's necklace. The memory of Enzo's brutal thrusts, the knot swelling inside him, the way his body betrayed him with unwanted pleasure--it all surges back.

No. No way he's doing that again.

He shakes his head. "No. We had a deal. One night. That's it."

Enzo's eyes darken. No one has dared refuse him before. He stands, silver eyes digging at him. "You took the money. You took my knot. Don't pretend you didn't like it too--the way your body responded to me. I want more."

Julian's heart pounds, but he stands his ground, shifting back and putting some distance between them.

He zips his hoodie up, ignoring the fresh bruises. "I'm not interested. I'm leaving." He grabs the wads of cash anyway--survival over pride--and shoves it into his pocket. And before Enzo says another word else, Julian slips out the door, ignoring the Alpha's low growl of warning.

The hallway feels endless as he limps toward the elevator, ankle still swollen from the night before, but he doesn't stop. Doesn't look back.

Down in the lobby, Julian pushes through revolving doors into the bright Los Angeles morning. Horns blare on the street. Tourists snapping photos of the hotel's grand entrance.

He hails a cab, sliding into the back seat with a hiss of pain. "Main market. Fast." The driver eyes the bruises on his neck suspiciously through the review mirror, but pulls away.

Julian clutches the necklace, breathing hard. He has a friend at the market, he can hide there till the search settles. Then he would move to another city, start afresh.

That's the plan.

---

Back in the suite, Enzo pours himself a black coffee, staring at the closed door. The calm in his blood still hums-- unusual but addictive. No rage bubbling under his skin, no urge to destroy the room.

That Omega did something to him, and he wants to feel it again.

He sets the cup down, already planning his next move, when a knock comes from behind the door.

Two of his men enter, looking uneasy-- the kind of expression they wear when they've fucked up.

The taller one, Marco, clears his throat. "Boss, bad news. The Omega the father-in-debt sold us, the one we were supposed to pick up, he ran away during the skirmish on Sixth."

Enzo's glares at them. "Why are you telling me this?" He flicks them off, "I don't care about some random omega, all I care about is my money."

Rico, the second one shifts on his feet. "We just, we thought you'd like that one, though. Young, untouched with a pretty face. Fought like hell too. Figured he'd match your... tastes."

Before Enzo can brush them off again, he pulls out his phone and swipes to a photo, turning the screen toward Enzo.

It's grainy, taken in the dark--Julian standing in front of his father's shop, hood down, resentment in his eyes. His calm, almost unnoticeable scent still seems to radiate from the image in Enzo's memory.

Oh, so he owned him already?

Enzo stares as the recognition hits him hard. The same flushed cheeks he'd pressed his lips against last night. The same wide eyes that had tears in them while taking every inch.

The same Omega who had just walked out of this suite ten minutes ago.

Then it hits him exactly why the boy was so eager to leave!

That sneaky little Omega never gave him a name last night. No number. Nothing real. He hadn't been shy– he knew exactly who Enzo was and had been planning his escape from the very beginning

A dark smile spreads across Enzo's face, slow and dangerous. If that's how he wants to play.

The scent in his pheromones change into worrying obsessiveness."That's him," Enzo says. "The Omega I just fucked."

Marco blinks, taken aback. "What? Boss, he just-"

"Find him." Enzo's voice drops. "Every street, every shelter, every shitty motel in this city. Check cameras. Force his father's hands if you have to. I want him back in my bed by tonight."

Rico hesitates. "He's just some runaway Omega. We can grab another-"

Enzo grabs Rico by the collar, slamming him against the wall. "No. This one is mine! Bring him to me breathing. I don't care what it costs or who you hurt. Search every corner of Los Angeles. NOW!"

The men nod quickly and leave, already pulling out their phones, calling for backup.

Behind them, Enzo turns back to the window, overlooking the sprawling city below. That boy is out there, limping through the streets with his cash, thinking he escaped.

But he has no idea what's coming.

He picks up his phone and dials another number. "Talk to Marco for full details. Double the bounty. Anonymous tip line. Description: Twenty one, male Omega, silver necklace, injured ankle. Reward for anyone who spots him."

Enzo ends the call, his calm deepening into cold anticipation. Last night was only the beginning. Julian had warmed his bed ones.

And he would do it again, willing or dragged.

---

Some miles away , unaware, Julian pays the cab driver and slips into a crowded market, pulling his hood low. He sees cars in the distance, but he thinks they're just another part of the city's noise.

He doesn't notice a man at the end of the block taking a picture of him.