Arrogance

Andrea was trembling—not with fear, but with rage. A corrupted hatred surged through his body like a shot of adrenaline, clouding his judgment. He had crossed every line, letting his emotions burn everything in their path, leaving nothing behind.

"Say that again," Valentina said, her voice tight with restrained anger.

Bastián rushed in, alarmed by a scream. He immediately noticed that, for some reason, Valentina—despite her tense expression and fixed gaze on Andrea—was crying and clutching the back of her head. As he got closer, he saw a crimson smear on the balcony wall. The impact had been strong enough to draw blood.

Though Andrea felt a flicker of shame at all the eyes on him, his irrationality quickly took over. His possessiveness as an omega surged forward.

Valentina was furious. She couldn't understand how the situation had been so grossly misunderstood. Under normal circumstances, she would've tried to talk things through, but this was different—especially after a physical attack. Her mind spiraled with thoughts of revenge, fleeting hatred driven by adrenaline.

She wanted to scream at Andrea, call him a damn idiot, tell him he didn't know how to use his brain. That he was the reason she avoided both alphas and omegas. That they were all the same: possessive, irrational, ignorant. But as a beta, she knew she had to stay rational. If she lashed out, Bastián—who stood beside her—could get hurt.

"I'm asking you to leave. If not, I'll call the police," Valentina said calmly.

"The police? Hahaha! You're a beta. Between you and me, who do you think they'll believe?" Andrea scoffed.

Only two people kept their eyes on Andrea—everyone else, including Bastián, looked away. He alone knew Andrea's true personality. Despite his calm facade, Andrea was suffocating. Bastián had met his past partners; none had ever satisfied him emotionally. None had mattered enough for him to move to another country and stay there… like he did for Lucas.

Maybe that's why—being an omega himself—Bastián could understand the obsession. He too became possessive when in love. That's why he hesitated to stand up to his cousin. But his concern for Valentina won out.

With her, things moved slower. Intimacy between omegas was simpler—just a whiff of pheromones was enough to sense each other's intentions. But Valentina was a beta, and that changed everything. Betas saw life differently, behaved differently. He often couldn't read her at all. He didn't know if something was really happening between them or if it was all in his head.

He shoved his thoughts aside to help her.

"Leave, Andrea. Now," Bastián said firmly.

Andrea wasn't surprised that Bastián took Valentina's side. Any omega would defend their crying—and bleeding—partner. Lucas, however, looked devastated. He couldn't believe Andrea had actually attacked her.

Who was he really? The man who stayed by his side all those days, or this furious stranger?

"Let's go. I'll take you home to grab your things, then to the hotel," Lucas said.

"Go? But this is her fault! I'm just protecting you!"

"I don't need protecting!" Lucas snapped.

"Enough! Lucas, take him. I need to go to the ER. If you keep yelling, the police will come," Valentina cut in.

Lucas knew that if it had been anyone else, he would've stayed to help Valentina. But it was Andrea. And even though what he'd done was inexcusable, Lucas couldn't forget their time together. He wanted to forgive him.

He hated himself for it. Maybe it was the pheromones, the instincts. But deep down, he knew it was a lie. Alphas and omegas were still rational humans. Everything else was just immaturity and obsession.

In a cold waiting room with hard seats that only caused pain, a couple waited their turn. People of all castes and social classes sat together. Only those close to death were prioritized.

Emergency rooms in Switzerland were just like everywhere else—hours of waiting while others bled or cried in desperation.

"So, three stitches and two weeks of medical leave," the doctor said without looking up.

"Doctor, I'm starting a new job in four days. I can't take time off," Valentina replied.

"You betas are so stubborn. It's not like they can't replace you," the doctor muttered, almost as if she hadn't spoken.

Valentina didn't answer. It wasn't worth it. Her only focus was keeping the job—despite the familiar sense of dismissal. At least Bastián was still with her, though he would be returning to Italy soon. Somehow, she felt she owed him for staying.

Bastián said nothing to the doctor. He didn't even notice the hidden tone in the man's words. Deep down, he thought the doctor might be right. He knew Valentina was starting a new job, but there would always be other betas to fill in. Advertising? How hard could it be? He imagined an office, an idea, and a joint in hand.

They got home around five in the morning, completely exhausted. Valentina wanted to talk, especially about the previous day—she planned to tell Lucas about the meeting with the lawyer and everything else. But now, it didn't seem to matter. She decided to wait.

"Don't contact Lucas for a few days," Bastián said.

"But I want to know what happened," Valentina replied.

"Lucas is going to forgive Andrea. So it's better if you keep your distance."

Valentina didn't understand. She'd known Lucas for years. He didn't tolerate violence unless there was a real reason. Bastián sounded certain. Even with doubts, she decided to send a simple text: Are you okay? Then she flipped her phone face down on the table.

The painkiller injection was kicking in. She didn't feel pain—just a deep sense of calm. She was excited to start her new job. She thought she'd finally stop worrying about money. Even though only two weeks had passed, living in Zurich felt like a daily war where only the wealthiest survived.

She lay on her left side beside Bastián and hugged him. She kissed his hands, grateful he was there. She liked him enough to ask him to go to the doctor with her or sleep by her side. He wasn't like those other alphas or omegas who only wanted to sleep with a beta out of curiosity. He was different.

At thirty, Valentina had gotten used to dating only betas. After bad experiences with alphas and a couple of omegas, she preferred simpler relationships. With betas, things were straightforward—no pheromones, no instincts. Just clear intentions. Except when a female beta was in heat—that was a different story.

While she thought about past relationships, she felt a hand stroke her leg. Gentle, but deliberate. Then it grabbed her rear, slid up her back, and firmly cradled her neck.

"Bastián, I'm drugged... haha. I can't do this today," she said, half-laughing.

"Come on, just a little. I've waited so long," he said.

"No, I really can't. I have a patch on my head," she insisted.

Bastián's response was cold. He pressed his lips together, stared at her, and pulled his arm away. He turned his back to her, leaving Valentina confused. She thought she had done something wrong and apologized over and over like she had committed a crime.

All she could see was Bastián's back—not his face. That hurt her. She didn't think he was wrong; maybe he was right. Maybe at thirty, things were supposed to move faster… right?

Bastián turned the moment she gave in. His attitude shifted instantly. He smiled again and leaned in to kiss her—just as his phone buzzed.

When Bastián read the message, his face flushed red with fury. He jumped out of bed so fast that Valentina's head bumped slightly against the headboard. He clenched his phone, veins bulging in his neck, and walked toward her with a chilling gaze.

"Didn't I tell you not to contact him?" he snarled, cornering her against the edge of the bed.