Page 158 of Beautifully Scarred Omega

She hands me one of the coffees as we walk and I can hear the buzz of the atrium before we reach it. Voices layered on voices, the steady hum of a crowded room. Lucy’s heels are quick beside me, her excitement impossible to miss.

The atrium ground floor is packed. Every employee gathered beneath four stories of glass, the sound of conversation filling the space. Lucy steers us toward the center of the crowd, and I follow, scanning the room the way I always do.

Three women stand just in front of us—kitchen staff, I recognize them from the canteen—talking in the low voices of people who think they’re being quiet and aren’t.

Then the doors at the far end open, and the alphas walk in.

Every head in the room turns at once.

Max comes first. Dark suit, dark tie, moving through the crowd with the kind of presence that makes people step aside without being asked. Then Finn, half a step behind, easy smile already in place, his dirty-blond hair pushed back, jacket slung over one shoulder. He says something to Max that makes Max’s mouth twitch. Then Ethan. Shirt tucked in, sleeves rolled to his elbows, tablet under one arm, glasses catching the light.

God, seeing them like this—all of them together, with every eye in the atrium drawn to them—I understand now why Lucy was making such a big deal of it.

They fill the room just by being in it. And sure, part of it is because they’re alphas, and that’s what alphas tend to do. But it isn’t just that. Most of the people here feel a deep, genuine sense of loyalty to them.

And of course, it doesn’t hurt that they’re devastatingly hot.

“God,” the blonde in front of me breathes. “Max Cavill is so freaking hot. Every time I see him in person I forget how to function.”

I press my tongue against the back of my teeth and say nothing. Yeah. I know.

“I can’t even imagine what it would be like to kiss him.” Her friend presses both hands to her cheeks. The third one makes a sound of fervent agreement.

And just like that, I’m back on the couch in the living room—cold river water still dripping from my hair, and his mouth on mine like it was the only thing that mattered. His fingers inside me, his voice saying let go, little one, and my face warms at the memory.

“I’d say Ethan Brooks would be a better kisser,” the brunette says, wiggling her eyebrows at her friends. “He seems like the type who takes his time. Very thorough.”

Very thorough indeed. My mind goes straight to Ethan as he thoroughly devoured me on his desk and made sure to clean up every last drop of my slick, then looked up at me and said, I was right. You are a sweet girl.

God, it’s getting hot in here.

I press my nails into my palm, trying my best to keep my face neutral.

“I don’t know,” the third omega says. “I feel like Finn Preston would be the best. You can just tell. He’s got that energy.”

He’s incredible. And just like that, I’m back at the kitchen counter, my legs wrapped around his waist, the way he said God, you’re perfect when he took my shirt off and looked at me like I was the only thing in the world.

A flush spreads across my chest.

Shit, I really need to think about something else.

“Girls.” Lucy’s voice, pointed and amused. The three omegas startle and turn. “We can hear you. This is a company presentation, not a gossip session.”

The three of them go red and mumble quick apologies, suddenly very interested in their phones. Lucy gives them a look that says you’re welcome, then leans toward me, her voice dropping to a murmur.

“I’d say they’d all be good kissers, wouldn’t you, Sophie?”

I look at her. Her expression is guileless, genuinely just gossiping—just Lucy, who finds everything delightful and says whatever she’s thinking.

“I’d say they’re our employers,” I say.

She waves me off. “Oh, come on. You have all those meetings with them. Surely you’ve thought about it. Even just once.” She looks up at the platform dreamily. “Can you imagine being with not just one, but three of them? Each one a completely different... flavor. But all of them—” she sighs “—equally delicious.”

Yes, Lucy. I can imagine it.

“I really haven’t,” I say. The lie comes out smooth.

At the platform, Max steps up to the podium and the room settles around him.