She didn't know whether to turn around—it felt like she'd done something wrong. Like a kid caught stealing a chocolate bar from the corner store. All those feelings, just because she hadn't yet responded to the lawyer. Nerves. A tightness in her chest. Her pupils widening beyond normal. Around her, many people were witnessing something that shouldn't be seen.
Where can I run? She thought.
—"Mr. Prötzell, how are you?" Valentina asked, her politeness slightly forced.—"Thank you. And you? Do you work nearby?" he replied with formal neutrality.—"I haven't forgotten your proposal. I apologize," she said, lowering her gaze slightly.
Sometimes, the people you meet along the way can change everything—for better or worse. And for Valentina, this might end up being for the better.
The lawyer she'd previously met worked for a mid-tier firm. But his greatest strengths weren't just that Bastian had introduced him, but that he had expertise in labor law—and more importantly, he knew Erick Hardmeiers very well.
They exchanged a few polite words on a street near the river. But since too many people were passing by—and given how sensitive the topic was—this alpha caste man invited her to lunch.
Internally, Valentina didn't want to. She didn't want to spend another franc. In her mind, she pictured herself ripping her hair out and screaming to the sky that she was bankrupt. Every time she tried to save money, it slipped through her fingers—and even more so in a moment like this.
Unfortunately, she couldn't say no. You could call it cultural etiquette, but really, it was that she might never get another chance like this.
She accepted graciously and ordered something simple with a glass of water. The alpha did the same.
As they chatted and refreshed their memories of the previous meeting, Valentina's thoughts wandered back to the day she returned to her old office demanding her pay—or rather, being told by others why she didn't deserve it.
—"When could I expect your answer?" the lawyer asked, direct, no fluff.—"Please give me a month. I just started a new job and need to get organized," she replied, unable to fully hide her anxiety.
The lawyer paused for a few seconds, then spoke. He told Valentina that he normally didn't wait on anyone's answer—and that her case was the exception. A very typical trait in people from this country was their bluntness. They didn't hide what they thought. They just said it.
That's why he repeated what he'd told her once before:
"You're a beta. Taking your case would put my career at risk."
A beta usually doesn't move alone. Not because they can't—but because they've learned that, when making dangerous choices, it's best to have someone watching your back. And while Valentina stood there alone, she knew that if something happened, she had Lucas, her mother, her father—and maybe even Bastian—as her pack.
—"I understand I'm a risk," she said, "but there must be a very strong reason for you to risk so much… right?"
The lawyer was surprised. He wasn't used to being answered with the same intensity he gave. Most clients stayed quiet, nodded, obeyed. He was the expert, after all. But Valentina didn't. And yes, he did have very clear reasons to take that risk—but this wasn't the moment to reveal them. Not yet.
They continued chatting until Valentina's alarm buzzed.
—"I'm sorry, my break's over. Can you tell me how much I owe?"
—"Don't worry. I'll cover it. But in exchange, I expect a reply in exactly one month," he said, calm and measured.
Saving is power. Thank you, God, Valentina cried internally, dramatically promising she'd eat all her vegetables from now on.
One month. That's what they agreed. It was Tuesday the 19th—she had four weeks to make a decision that could change everything.
She stood and left politely. But under the stares of several onlookers (apparently alphas and omegas), anyone crossing her path could read it in her eyes: hatred. In the sound of her heels: defiance. In her arms: a stiffness that cut the air. And in her stride: someone walking fast—yet carrying a heavy weight.
It was only four blocks back to the office. But during those ten minutes, the lawyer's words echoed in her mind:
"You gave your life to that company and quit for a just cause. So fight for it. You're entitled to your unpaid vacation. To your sick leave. To everyday you worked.But above all…You're entitled to respect."
Respect. That's what she wanted. What she longed for.
To be seen—as an equal.
**
In another part of the city, surrounded by fewer concrete walls and more trees, with hands stained from chains and grease, was Lucas.
He liked to believe he didn't ignore the world around him—but unconsciously, he often did. Some things made sense. Others spun into such deep chaos, they became black holes in his mind.
To stop thinking, he threw himself into his work. Last weekend had been chaos. He didn't know how to act—or rather, he did, but didn't want to make the wrong call.
He'd thought about contacting Valentina more than once. But he didn't want to hurt Andrea.
It was Tuesday, and the day was almost over. He needed to return to his apartment—a place that used to feel dull but now felt warm. He glanced at the red poster on his wall and remembered that Saturday—Valentina crying and bleeding on the balcony after Andrea slapped her.
Likewise, he remembered the arguments that night, and the next morning. How they slept apart. How he couldn't bring himself to throw Andrea out. Andrea explained everything he thought he saw. Lucas forgave him—but part of him still doubted.
In the days after the fight, Andrea admitted he'd misunderstood what happened. That he hadn't actually heard what was said. But he couldn't understand what was going on between Lucas and Valentina.
To Andrea, even between betas, the body had a purpose. One invaded, the other surrendered. Unless it was family,every bond had to lead to sex or control.
He was convinced that a simple friendship between him and Lucas was impossible. So he asked Lucas to really consider what he wanted between them.
Lucas had told him not to rush things. But Andrea was blunt—biology didn't care about emotions or pauses. It demanded only one thing: reproduction.
That word echoed in Lucas's head.
He'd never once imagined anything romantic with Valentina. He'd never been attracted to women. But with her, he felt comfortable. Extremely so.
Still, Andrea's doubts had planted seeds in his own mind.
By 5 p.m., Lucas closed up shop and headed home. He wasn't riding his motorcycle anymore—just taking the train. Lately, he didn't feel like doing much.
Even in the crowded train, he felt out of place. Watched. Like people could smell something wrong on him. Contaminated. It made his skin crawl.
And that's why he hated public transport.
When he got home, Andrea was already there, smiling, with the table set. Lucas felt spoiled. He couldn't help but smile back.
—"Babe, I have to head back this Sunday," Andrea said, gently.
Lucas came back to reality. His smile faded. Andrea was going back to Itäly. And because of everything that had happened, they hadn't even planned around his rut.
—"Andrea… when is your rut?" Lucas asked, serious now.
It might have seemed out of place—but it wasn't. Andrea knew this talk was coming. In fact, he wanted it.
He needed to coordinate with Lucas. Needed to know how much he really understood about omega rut, especially since Lucas was a beta. Andrea had never been with a beta. He wasn't sure if it would work. He'd heard mixed things.
Being an omega in control was one thing.Being controlled by someone else… was another.
Lucas noticed Andrea's breathing and pulse speed up. He bit his lower lip. Shifted his weight from foot to foot. Bit his nails.
He wanted to ask something—but wasn't sure how.
It reminded Lucas of Valentina.
He burst out laughing.
Betas didn't have pheromones like alphas or omegas—but they could read people. Their biology let them sense rhythm, breath, movement. A different kind of sensitivity.
—"What's so funny?" Andrea pouted.—"Haha, you're so easy to read. If she were here, she'd say the same," Lucas grinned.
Shit, Lucas thought. He'd promised not to bring up Valentina.
But his mind had a habit of betraying him.
And as he looked at Andrea's furrowed brow, his clenched fists, and the serious look in his eyes, he wondered:
Maybe… when bodies are built to fit together—friendship stops being an option.