Lake knew better than to believe that the Mafia cared about morality and justice.
Arthur would also be so quick to throw him under the bus, if he were lucky, he wouldn’t be killed the moment he was found.
He wanted to be the independent Omega he had always been...
He wanted to get to his feet and pack up what little valuables he had and make plans to leave before it all imploded on him.
But he had just been marked less than an hour ago, he wanted nothing more than to return to Davian’s side.
And usually, he would be upset at his Omega instincts for making things so hard for him, but tonight he simply didn’t have it in him to do that.
So, he just locked his door and trudged into the sparsely decorated apartment, leaving the bag that held all of the evidence right at the door.
He needed to shower. He took his heat suppressants regularly but not birth control, there was supposed to not be a need for that.
Although he loathed to, he had to wash out every bit of the Alpha off him, and keep his fingers crossed that he wasn’t unlucky enough to get pregnant from his first unprotected sex.
He was sure that Master Davian would be on expensive inhibitors and birth control, so that wasn’t as big a worry for him as everything else.
He washed up anyway, splurging and using hot water.
A high light bill wouldn’t matter anymore when he was on the run, and he had already been through so much tonight that he deserved this much.
Now, he washed his hair, catching a glimpse of himself in the bathroom mirror.
The mating bite was the least of his problems, it would last the longest but currently, it was the least eye catching with the plethora of hickeys and clung to his skin.
Lake stared at the mark on his neck, he was sure that he was still in shock, and he would eventually come to terms with the reality that he had be claimed by an Alpha.
It felt odd because he had never thought about that before, he had no interest in love.
He just wanted to make enough money so that he wouldn’t have to work again, so it wasn’t like he was saving up the claiming bite for anyone else.
He studied it intently, giving into curiosity and reaching to touch the tender mark.
His knees instantly buckled from the wave of pleasure that washed over him, that he had to grab onto the sink to keep himself from falling to the bathroom floor.
Lake decided then, he was going to hide the mating mark.
Even if he was caught, which he most likely would be, because there was no escaping the Mafia.
If he kept the mating mark a secret, and just admitted to sleeping with the Mafia King, he might get a lighter sentence.
He got dressed, throwing a scarf around his neck before he got on the bed.
Master Davian was having his rut so give or take, he should have a couple days of grace before they would start breathing down his neck.
He would leave first thing the next morning but for now, he desperately needed some shut eye.
Lake curled up on his bed, shivering although it was far from a cold night.
Back at the mansion, Davian was just rousing. His nose scrunched up at the heaviness of his scent in the air, his expression changing to frown when he caught another scent.
It was an unfamiliar but very soothing scent of honey and citrus...
He shot upright at that, clutching his head as a blinding headache stunned him.
His memory was in broken pieces that didn’t fit, but the two things he was sure of was...
He wasn’t supposed to; but he had been on inhibitors for too long, despite the family’s doctor’s advice.
Davian couldn’t be more disinterested in sex with randoms, and his rut would make that a necessity, so he had insisted that the doctor kept him on inhibitors.
The downside to that was that something could happen, where a brief version of his rut would happen anyway, and without warning too.
But there was something else, something worse than having his rut...
Someone else had been in here.
Davian glanced down at his naked body and cursed, his foggy memories weren’t helpful.
He couldn’t even picture the face of the person he had just been with, all he had to go off on was their scent.
His erratic rut wouldn’t last very long, according to the doctor but if situations were going to be a consequence, he would rather just have a proper rut and be done with it.
Davian checked the time; it was the early hours of the morning.
He had no idea how much time had passed since whoever it was had been in here. Their scent was faint so he would reckon a good long while.
Davian’s brows furrowed, gray eyes dark as his headache worsened every time he tried to remember what had happened.
He got to his feet, he needed to take a shower, get dressed and then find out who exactly had been in his room.
The last thing he could remember from the night before was going back to the mansion early because he felt off.
He had been heading to his room, and his memory abruptly cut off there, he couldn’t remember past that.
Because he didn’t stop trying to remember, by the time he stepped out of the bathroom, he was wincing from the strength of his headache.
The bed was a mess as he walked out, adjusting the watch he had chosen at random to wear.
If he wanted to make an effort, he would try to wear a proper shirt and slacks, but he wasn’t at all in the mood for that.
He just threw on a muscle shirt and some tactical pants, all in black, taking out his phone to call his butler.