"Ugh, it's so hot. Lucas, why did we come to Moneglia and not Lampedusa? There's nothing to do in this town…"
Valentina felt out of place. She wasn't sure if she'd made the right decision after the heated scene at the agency. Only five hours had passed since the incident, but her mind was racing.Part of her thought she had overreacted. That she wouldn't have enough money to survive. That she wouldn't find another job easily. And maybe… maybe Miguel had been right.
But her heart beat fast.Like she had just climbed a mountain—and even though she was tired, she was proud for not giving up.
"You're scared, aren't you?" Lucas said, glancing at her as they walked. "Relax. If you don't find a job, I'll hire you to sweep my little shop."
"You're an asshole," she said, laughing.
They checked into the hotel, unpacked, and took a quick shower before going out for dinner.Moneglia was a small beach town tucked away in the Liguria region, with just over 3,000 residents. Peaceful. Simple. Unpretentious—where caste didn't seem to matter much.Not like in the big cities, where people competed over who was "purer."Here, cobbled streets and flower-filled windows gave a different vibe: no one was in a rush.
The next morning, they woke up early to head to the beach. If they didn't get there in time, someone else would take the umbrellas; at many Italian beaches, spots were taken on a first-come basis.
"I don't feel comfortable. I don't think I'll go in the water."
"What are you talking about? Is it the bikini?"
"No… I just don't want to tan."
"Valentina, I've known you for nearly nine years. I know when you're lying."
Valentina didn't have much confidence in her body.She'd suffered from bulimia during her teens, after one of several episodes of abuse. Since then, she'd always felt vulnerable—like everyone was judging her. At fifteen, a man had touched her under her school uniform.She always thought she'd react with strength if something like that happened.But she froze.No one said a word.No one defended her.Everyone looked away while she cried in silence.
Sometimes, being a beta in Zurich felt like being invisible in a room full of lights. You had a scent, sure—but barely noticeable. You had rut—but it didn't spark anything in others. And no one wanted to know. In society's eyes, if you didn't have pheromones that provoked desire, you didn't exist.
"I like them thick," the stranger had said that day.
She said nothing, out of shame.The judgmental stares from her family, the constant comparisons to her omega cousins and their alpha partners—they had left a mark.She felt like she would never be enough.If she gained weight, she was criticized.If she lost it, it still wasn't enough.She lived in a cycle of guilt no one seemed to notice.
"Please don't pressure me. I've got enough going on today, okay?"
"Never, love. Never. I adore you. And if anyone says anything or gives you a dirty look, I'll punch them."
They arrived at the beach at 7 a.m. Half the space was already taken.With some effort, Valentina took off her blouse. Her biggest insecurity was her legs.The sun was blazing, and the sea was calling. Lucas insisted, and she agreed to go into the water with him.
Once she was in the sea, all the negative thoughts faded away.Laughter, splashing, and the arrival of two guys who came over to talk lifted their mood. Lucas drew people in with his smile and confidence. He was building his own business from the ground up—and that made him even more intriguing.
They were invited to have focaccia for lunch and explore the town.There wasn't much to do, but the company was fun.One of the guys, Bastián, made Valentina laugh in a way she hadn't in a long time.There was something about him that made her let her guard down.
"Signorina, Signore," Bastián said as they said goodbye. "See you at eight. I've sent the address."
Back at the hotel, they got ready quickly.
"Valentina, do you have condoms?"
"WHAT?! Why the hell would I have condoms? I came here to relax, not to hunt Italians!"
"With the number of lovers you've had, you act like a nun."
"Excuse me? Should I pull up your WhatsApp? You've got a waitlist of ten. And twenty internationals."
Lucas couldn't help himself—he loved provoking her.He enjoyed seeing her annoyed, because he knew that beneath that tough exterior, his friend had the softest heart, and she would give everything for the people she loved.
The address led them to a family villa overlooking the sea.In Switzerland, young people moved out as soon as they could—but here, life was different.The family welcomed them warmly.Later, when the adults went to bed, only four remained: Valentina, Lucas, Bastián, and Andrea.Lucas and Andrea wasted no time getting handsy.
"So you work in advertising?" Bastián asked Valentina.
"Used to. I've been unemployed for… 24 hours."
"Perfect. Move to Moneglia."
"Haha, I can't. I'd go crazy without work."
"Crazy? Well, you're driving me crazy."
She was speechless.And when she looked for Lucas—he was already gone.
She thought to herself: "Damn you and your dick, Lucas."
"I'm a beta," she said. "I don't think I'm your type."
"Why does that matter? It's not like we're getting married… or are we?"
"Don't betas bother you? Wait, are you beta?"
"No. I'm omega. Andrea too."
"WHAT?Shouldn't you be with an alpha or something?"
"Right now, I'm only interested in you. And those lips that keep tempting me."
Not even a minute passed before Bastián leaned in to kiss her.
His touch was gentle, soft.He was almost as tall as Lucas, with green eyes like pine trees, and a body that was a pleasure to look at.His hands were large, slightly calloused from training, but they touched her with such tenderness that she instinctively moved closer.
The first kiss was small. Then two. Then three…Until his tongue entered her mouth and she could feel his breath—fresh, minty breath from a candy.
One hand rested on the back of her neck, pulling her closer until she was straddling his lap.The other stroked her thighs, slowly, teasingly.
From their mouths came only soft moans—charged with arousal, heat, and a curiosity urging them to explore how far they could go.Valentina could feel him: his tongue, his pressure, his warmth.
"Do you want more?" he whispered.
"I don't know you well enough…"
"I won't do anything without your permission. But let me kiss you until you know me better."
Meanwhile, in another room of the villa, Lucas and Andrea were consumed by desire.Kisses, touches, teasing.Their attraction was mutual, free of labels—just bodies, skin, and hunger.
"Should I put it on, or do you want to?"
"Either way… if you go first, I'll go next."
They were spark, fire, flame.Andrea pushed Lucas against the wall with confidence.No one could hear them—he had a mini apartment separate from the main house.
He had already confirmed he was a beta, but Andrea had guessed it.He couldn't stop smelling him.There was something about Lucas that pulled him in almost instinctively.
"I don't smell like anything, I'm beta," Lucas said.
"I know. But there's a scent… lilies. It drives me wild."
Lucas realized just how turned on he was.As a male beta, he didn't have a rut, but his natural scent could still be picked up if someone got close enough to his glands.If Andrea had been in heat, that scent would have intensified.
The kissing didn't stop.Andrea couldn't stop touching him, kissing his stomach, slowly unzipping his jeans.They were in the corner of the room, in front of the bed.With slow, confident hands, Andrea unzipped, unbuttoned, and revealed damp underwear, soaked in precum.
He leaned in and licked him with desire.
"Be careful what you're doing, or I'll end up tying you to the headboard."
"Do whatever you want—but remember, I'll return the favor."
From wall to floor, floor to bed.Lucas kissed every part of Andrea's body as if touching a masterpiece.He was a careful, attentive lover, one who knew how to read every expression, sound, whimper, moan, and cry of pleasure from his partner.
There were no clothes left between them.Only inches stood between them and pure pleasure.
Moan after moan escaped Andrea's lips as he lay facedown beneath Lucas, clawing at his back, biting his arms, holding his breath… and then letting it go in sharp gasps.
"More, please… harder…"
From face down to on all fours.Spanks, licks along his back, kisses to his neck.
"I want—"
"Yeah, pull my hair. Do whatever you want with me."
That night, there were no taboos.Only sweat, whispers, bites, dirty words, and the sound of a bed moving in rhythm with their lust.And it didn't end with one round… or in one room.
"You're such a piece of shit," Valentina said the next morning. "Our room reeks of sex!"
"Hahahaha! But you still love me."
"Loving you doesn't mean I have to let you screw up my wallet. I had to rent another room!"
"You could've come in after he left."
"Lucas, it smells like two full days of nonstop wild sex!"
"Speaking of sex… what happened with Bastián?"
She blushed, grabbed her bag, and headed down for breakfast.
It was the day they returned to Zurich.Back to reality.
She hadn't received any emails.She didn't know if she had to return to the agency.
Her entire weekend had been consumed by Bastián—Walking hand in hand through the city, eating, discovering little bars and a church, kissing in corners like a shy couple.They shared long kisses in every shadow they found, their hands playful, as if time was on their side.
As the time to head to the airport approached, she considered checking her email again.She didn't want to.She just wanted to hold onto the last thing Bastián had said:
"I'll be in Zurich in two weeks to visit some friends. Can I see you?"
"Yes. I can show you the city."
"I want you to show me everything… not just the city."
She didn't trust men.Maybe because of her past.Maybe because she was beta.Or maybe because she had only ever loved people who never knew how to love her back.
"Do you know if you have to go back to the agency?" Lucas asked.
"Yes. They've called a meeting for Wednesday. With the CEO, Miguel, and HR."
The perfect weekend began to fade, like cheap incense.All that remained was a memory that, instead of calming her, churned her stomach.
Just the thought of returning to that place… the stares, the whispers, the gossip since her resignation…All of it gave her anxiety.
But it was done.There was no turning back.
All she wanted now was to close that chapter and focus on a new one.Find a job.Start over.
And for the first time in years, she thought:
"Now I can finally sleep in."
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GlossaryFocaccia – A flat, fluffy, salty bread similar to pizza dough, typically topped with olive oil, coarse salt, herbs, and sometimes olives or tomatoes. It originates from Genoa, in the Liguria region of Italy.