Chapter 3

3.

When I woke up, the dark, foul-smelling basement had transformed into a bright, sterile room. I stared at the white ceiling, the smell of antiseptic piercing my nostrils.

A doctor in a white coat approached, looking at me with pity. "The damage to your gland is too severe; it has lost all function. We have to remove it, or your life will be at risk."

I touched the back of my neck with trembling hands. The spot that used to be slightly raised was now shriveled, leaving a permanent scar.

An omega without a gland is a symbol of lost dignity, destined for total discrimination and bullying in this A/B/O world.

So, this was Killian's plan all along?

He destroyed this body, left it broken, and now he wanted to crush my spirit too.

But what he didn't know was that my heart had already stopped feeling anything for these insults; all that remained was numbness.

When no one was around, I changed out of my hospital gown, slipped past the nurses, and ran outside.

It wasn't until the fresh air and the bustle of the crowds enveloped me that I finally felt safe.

I had finally escaped. To survive, I began to drift from place to place, looking for work.

In a way, Killian's design for me had been right.

Without a gland and covered in scars, almost no employer would hire me.

When I couldn't find work, I had to rummage through trash cans for food.

Finally, I got a job as a waiter at a nightclub.

Cold glares and snide remarks were expected, so I didn't take them to heart.

But I never expected my luck to be so rotten; only a few days into the job, I ran into Killian.

The devilish man was sitting on the plush leather sofa of a VIP booth, surrounded by a few betas, omegas, and a couple of alphas.

The moody light hit his handsome face, making him look even more bewitching and dangerous, sending chills down my spine.

I begged my colleagues to swap shifts, but they already looked down on me, and I only got laughs in return.

"You're a cripple, what right do you have to refuse?"

True. I was a cripple now―what else was there to fear?

I braced myself and entered the booth. Various gazes landed on me, but the most unbearable was the burning stare I knew belonged to Killian.

"Come here." The cold, emotionless command echoed, and the booth went silent, everyone waiting for his next move.

I moved, but then I heard him say: "Crawl here."

I had no choice but to kneel, dropping to the floor and crawling to his feet.

"Hahaha, look at him, he's like a dog!"

Amid the raucous laughter, Killian raised his leather shoe, which was stained with a bit of dust and mud.

He looked down at me like a god: "Lick it clean."

Why, after all this time, was he still unwilling to let me go?

Seeing that I didn't move, Killian stood up instead.

The next second, a cold, stinging liquid poured over my head, flowing into my eyes and down my clothes.

Killian held a bottle of red wine, soaking me completely.

"A treat for you, hahahaha." The mockery continued around me; they looked at me as if I were a dog.

I scrambled up in disgrace and fled the booth, stumbling out of the club.

No matter how I ran, could I never escape his grasp?

Thinking of the hellish days in the basement, I shivered. I ran until I reached the roof of a nearby building.

I climbed over the railing, standing at the highest point. The bitter wind blew through my hair and billowed my oversized hospital clothes, revealing the scars on my body.

I spread my arms, wanting to embrace my freedom.

A gut-wrenching shout suddenly came from behind me.

"Leo Sterling, don't!"

"Caleb's life wasn't a debt I owed, but I'll pay it back to you now."