If I’d known in advance how long an alpha’s susceptibility period could last, I never would have stupidly offered to stay.
Halfway through, I already regretted it, but there was no turning back. I kept telling myself it was just a marathon—once it was over, I’d be fine.
After all, betas can’t be marked. I wouldn’t lose anything.
Just think of it as a workout. Sometimes you need a little cardio to balance out all the strength training.
But damn, this “cardio” was eating away at my muscle gains!
I stared at my reflection in the full-length mirror, devastated by how much leaner I looked.
All that muscle—built one punch at a time—gone!
The culprit, meanwhile, was looking completely refreshed, calmly reading through the script for his next big drama announcement.
My eyes drifted down to the trash can, overflowing with used wrappers and tissues.
“You said you didn’t have a partner, so why do you keep so many of these at home?”
You Yan set down his script, reached out, and pulled me into his arms.
“It’s great. Now you’re completely covered in my scent.”
What the hell? Where did this guy get off saying such cheesy things all of a sudden?
I shoved him away, annoyed. “Where’s your cologne? Got a cigarette?”
Even if I couldn’t smell it, I wanted to cover up his scent—he was driving me nuts.
You Yan handed me a cigarette. I didn’t actually smoke, but apparently he was prepared for everything—he even popped the menthol bead for me.
The smoke was laced with mint, a weird combo, but oddly refreshing.
“Like it?”
“It’s alright.”
You Yan smiled, satisfied. “That’s what my pheromones smell like.”
I immediately stubbed it out.
He was finally back to work a week later.
When I saw his assistant looking all calm and collected on set, I couldn’t hold back. I cornered him against the wall, fuming.
He just rolled his eyes at me.
“Bro, I was in a tough spot too.”
“Tough how?”
“Not answering was already my answer. We’re all adults. Why’d you keep calling and make me explain to my wife for half an hour?”
I was so mad my voice shot up. “You did it on purpose, didn’t you?”
The assistant’s eyes flicked over my shoulder and he clammed up.
I turned to see You Yan, fully styled and looking devastatingly handsome, glancing at the assistant with a faint smile but a chilly tone:
“Since when did you two get so close?”
Since when does pinning someone to a wall count as being close? My feelings were a mess—angry, but even more annoyed at myself.
I’d missed so many red flags, but I still caved in to him.
People like me are just asking to be used and discarded by rich kids like him.
But whatever. It’s not like I can quit—who’s dumb enough to walk away from a paycheck? From now on, though, I won’t let myself go soft again.
Chapter 11
*