The Unlucky Alpha and Her Hard-to-Please Omega - Chapter 2

Drinking truly ruins everything!

When Song Yi opened her eyes that morning and saw herself lying next to Shen Yu, she felt her soul leave her body. Then, her memories surged back like a tsunami. She was forced to watch, like a helpless spectator, as the “memory version” of herself leaned in to kiss the person she hated most in the world. From there, the two had hit it off instantly, stumbling upstairs to book a room.

Shen Yu was still asleep, wearing a look of smug satisfaction that made Song Yi’s blood boil.

Alphas really are all the same. Does she not know how to say no? Does she have zero self-respect?

Song Yi pulled out her phone. As expected, it was flooded with missed calls from her manager. She had told Sister Chen to have someone pick her up, only to vanish for the entire night. Song Yi could already envision Sister Chen’s towering rage.

She chose to hide from reality for a few more minutes.

The hangover left her head feeling heavy and dull. In the bathroom mirror, she saw a woman with tangled hair and a lingering, post-coital flush in her eyes. The mottled marks trailing down the side of her neck told a vivid story.

Last night had been wild.

Hiss. My head hurts.

The marks brought back a few more R-rated memories. It seemed Song Yi was the one who had pushed Shen Yu onto the bed first. She had straddled Shen Yu’s lap and brushed her hair aside; Shen Yu’s eyes had lit up instantly. Suddenly, the positions were reversed, and Shen Yu was pinning her to the bed, tracing the line of her long neck over and over with her lips and tongue.

Kissing, kissing, kissing… what’s so great about it?

Song Yi tilted her head to inspect the mess on her neck. For the first time, she noticed a tiny mole on the side of her neck, now buried under layers of bruised red marks.

Song Yi poked the mole with a finger and gritted her teeth. “Shen Yu, you freak.”

She had to get herself together to see Sister Chen. The meeting was already on the schedule, and now that Shen Yu had left her in this state, no amount of concealment would escape Sister Chen’s hawk-like eyes. Her best bet was to get there as fast as possible and confess her sins directly.

Song Yi hurriedly brushed through her hair and tied it back, beginning a frantic wash-up. Her hair was somewhat coarse, and every time the ends swept against the gland at the nape of her neck, the pain made her gasp.

Song Yi lifted her ponytail and craned her neck, finally catching a glimpse of the area in the mirror. The entire gland zone was red and swollen; she could even see faint broken skin and teeth marks. That freak Shen Yu… did she actually bite through the gland?

In Song Yi’s limited understanding of one-night stands, an Alpha was just supposed to give the gland a few light nips. They were all adults; everyone knew how dangerous it was to actually break the skin there. Luckily it was her, if it had been any other normal Omega, Shen Yu might have accidentally caused a fatality. What would happen then? Would a weeping little Omega show up at her door? Shen Yu was a public figure, for heaven’s sake!

After a chaotic struggle in the bathroom, Song Yi realized the disaster on her neck was beyond the help of makeup. She finally decided to let her hair down to cover it as much as possible, using the hotel’s curling iron to clumsily style her hair into a “nothing to see here” look.

Before leaving, she looked back. Shen Yu hadn’t even changed her posture, showing no signs of waking up. Still sleeping? In a fit of pique, Song Yi delivered a sharp kick that sent Shen Yu flying off the bed before she turned and vanished.

*****

Shen Yu was caught completely off guard, falling so hard she saw stars. She clutched her forehead as she crawled up, blinking at the unfamiliar surroundings.

Also, she realized she was naked.

It felt like… she had run into an Omega last night…

Crap. This is a disaster.

Without even stopping to put on clothes, she scrambled for her phone to call Tang Di, the last person she remembered seeing while sober.

Shen Yu: “Tang Di, where am I?”

Tang Di: “…Do you even hear yourself right now?”

Shen Yu: “I—I—I…” Shen Yu stammered. “I just woke up and realized I’m naked. I don’t recognize this place at all. I have this weird sense of exhaustion, my forehead and nose hurt, I…”

Tang Di: “I’m in a hurry. Get to the point.”

Shen Yu: “I think my virtue has been stolen!”

There was a long, agonizing silence on the other end.

“You actually had any of that left?” Tang Di asked, sounding incredulous.

Shen Yu: “I am not a loose person!!”

“Okay, okay.” The background noise on Tang Di’s end changed; she sounded like she was walking briskly and didn’t have much time to analyze Shen Yu’s world-ending crisis. “You’re twenty-five. Congratulations on finally becoming an adult.”

Tang Di suddenly paused, remembering something. “Where’s your manager? Did she not pick you up?”

Shen Yu: “What do you mean?”

Tang Di finally reached her destination. With the beep of an electronic keycard, her speaking speed increased. “Yesterday, I called your manager and told her to come get you. If you didn’t see her, it means you were picked up by some sweet, succulent Omega while you were drunk and acting like a fool. Might be a fan. Congratulations, you might be facing a lawsuit.”

“Oh, and out of clinical caution, I haven’t ruled out the possibility that the person wasn’t sweet and succulent, or wasn’t even an Omega. Note: those are ‘OR’ conditions.”

“I’m entering the scrub room now. Good luck.” Tang Di hung up.

Shen Yu felt like she’d been struck by lightning.

She checked her phone again. There were no messages other than news notifications.

Great. Nothing.

So, her manager was so “relaxed” about her that despite knowing she was drunk and causing a scene at a hotel, she never showed up. She didn’t even care where Shen Yu spent the night. And her childhood friend, who saw death every day, didn’t think she had a problem either.

Fine.

*****

8:00 AM.

Song Yi stepped out of a taxi, her face hidden behind a mask. The security guard at the gate hesitated, but Song Yi pulled the mask down briefly. After a manual “face recognition,” she was allowed through.

In the elevator, a familiar-looking girl greeted her—someone’s assistant, maybe. Before getting off at her floor, the assistant gave Song Yi’s neck a very meaningful, lingering look.

Ding. The ninth floor. Song Yi’s manager, Chen Nian, was the company’s “Ace Manager.” She was a power player; even her office was on a higher floor than the others—only one floor below the CEO.

Song Yi stood outside the office door, trying to steady her breathing. She wasn’t a desperate rookie whose life was in her boss’s hands, but facing Chen Nian always gave her that “elementary student seeing the principal” tension.

Knock, knock.

A voice from within told her to enter. She pushed the door open softly. Chen Nian was sitting behind a mahogany desk, with a floor-to-ceiling window behind her offering a full view of the city.

“Where were you last night?” Chen Nian asked, looking up from a stack of documents. She went straight to the point.

“There was an… accident.” Song Yi was fidgety. She didn’t know how to calmly explain that she’d gotten drunk and rolled around with an Alpha—an industry peer, and specifically, Shen Yu.

Shen Yu’s fans and Song Yi’s fans fought viciously online. Although the two actresses were of similar age, their career paths rarely crossed. Song Yi was a “serious” film actress, sticking to the big screen. Shen Yu was more “populist,” appearing in nearly seventy percent of the new TV dramas and constantly generating headlines. She had a massive presence.

Technically, Song Yi had more prestige in the industry, but Shen Yu had more exposure and a larger fanbase. Even if her accolades weren’t as shiny, plenty of people loved her.

Just like back in school.

In the eyes of Shen Yu’s fans, Song Yi was a “fading talent” who couldn’t stay relevant. Song Yi’s fans, meanwhile, thought Shen Yu’s fans were social climbers trying to latch onto her prestige. Every clash made the rivalry worse until they viewed each other as mortal enemies.

Sometimes Song Yi wondered: Do Shen Yu’s fans hate me because she’s egging them on? Just like back in school?

Chen Nian spoke again. “I know there was an accident. You asked me to send someone, but when the driver arrived, you were gone. Do you know Old Zhao’s kid is only five? He spent the whole night looking for you.”

“So I’m asking you again: what was the ‘accident’?”

When Chen Nian was stern, she had a habit of tapping her knuckles against the desk. With every tap, Song Yi’s heart skipped a beat.

“I’m sorry.” Song Yi hadn’t realized she’d inconvenienced the driver.

Chen Nian looked up, her gaze sharpening. She stood, walked around the desk, and brushed aside Song Yi’s hair. Without the hair as a shield, the faint red marks were thrust into the light.

Chen Nian stared at the marks for a long time. Finally, she let go of the hair and leaned back against her desk, crossing her arms. There was no rage, no interrogation. She was far more peaceful than Song Yi had expected.

“Are you in a relationship?” Chen Nian asked.

“No! I don’t even like her!” Song Yi clarified immediately.

“Well, at least you know who did it. It seems you weren’t so drunk that you let yourself be taken advantage of by a stranger.” Chen Nian seemed to relax. She arched an eyebrow. “A one-night stand? Drunken mistake?”

“Yes.” Song Yi hated admitting it.

“Is the other party tight-lipped?” Chen Nian asked. Without waiting for an answer, she smirked. “It doesn’t matter if they aren’t. I can handle it.” She was the Ace Manager, after all.

Song Yi: “It was Shen Yu.”

Chen Nian: “…”

Chen Nian’s expression soured instantly. She walked back behind her desk and rubbed her fingers over a folder. “Why her? That’s… complicated.”

She didn’t say Shen Yu was beyond her power, but Song Yi knew that if Shen Yu actually intended to make a scene out of this, it would be a nightmare to manage.

“Shen Yu’s family has a lot of background,” Chen Nian noted.

“I know.” Song Yi’s parents lived in the same villa district as Shen Yu’s. She knew exactly how rich they were.

“You don’t need to worry. It was just a one-time thing between consenting adults. It’s no big deal. Neither I nor Shen Yu will take it to heart,” Song Yi said.

“Are you sure?” Chen Nian countered.

“I’m sure. Once it’s over, it’s over. I won’t fall for her, and she won’t fall for me. Nothing changes,” Song Yi insisted.

Chen Nian stared into her eyes, gauging how much of that statement was actually believable. Song Yi didn’t know what conclusion her manager reached, but at least on the surface, Chen Nian dropped the subject.

“In the future, tell me if you change your plans. Or tell the driver directly. Now, let’s talk about your next project.” Chen Nian opened a folder and pushed a thick script toward her. The cover had two words in bold: The Mist.

Song Yi took the script and opened the plain white cover. As she scanned the synopsis, she heard Chen Nian add one final, cryptic remark:

“I’m warning you now: do not bring your personal feelings into your work.”

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