Friday had finally arrived, bringing with it rain and the first hints of winds that were no longer warm. She hadn't packed her bags for the weekend—days had gone by at an absurd speed. The fears she'd felt on Monday and Tuesday, and the uncertainty of her future, seemed to have vanished. She began to feel a bit more confident in herself, even if it felt fleeting. She wanted to believe everything would be okay… at least until her test was over.
"Mmm, what am I missing? Underwear, perfume, suppressants… I think that's everything," Valentina murmured, uncertain.
It was six in the morning. She had decided to wake up early to prepare everything. Her plan was to take her suitcase to work and then head straight to the airport—it was the fastest way to get to him. Even though she was on a tight budget, she realized it had been a good investment. She wanted to see him. It had only been a few days, but she already missed him.
Once everything was ready, she remembered she had to call Lorenzo to coordinate… but first, she needed to talk to Lucas. Despite everything that had happened in the past few days, she had to make things right with him. She also needed his support for the upcoming meeting.
Since she'd be flying out after work, she chose to take public transportation. It wasn't ideal during rush hour, but it was the most practical option. She lived in a rural area, so she had to take two connections: first a bus, then a train. When she arrived at work, she crossed the parking lot and, as if the day was mocking her, noticed more free spots than ever before.
"Good morning," Valentina said with a bright smile.
"Valentina! How's it going with the numbers for the bid?" asked the accounts manager.
The days had flown by because of the bidding process. While other brands had come in during the week, her focus was entirely on the telecom company. According to the last meeting, they had agreed to send a draft proposal before the official pitch, just to make sure they were on the right track.
"Do you have time at 2 p.m.? I'd like to go over a few things," Valentina said seriously.
She had been gathering information ever since the announcement of the bid. Not only had she reviewed the client's website, but she had also reconnected with her former coworker, Alex.
After the awkward moment last week—when someone had interrupted them before they could talk—she decided to call him directly and apologize for how that day ended. She didn't mention the real reason behind the call; she just said she wanted to close that chapter properly.
To her relief, Alex didn't take it the wrong way. On the contrary, he was happy that she'd found someone, even if he was surprised it was an omega. As they talked and recalled old times, the conversation naturally shifted to the problems at her former agency.
Valentina tensed up. Her chest felt heavy. She nearly said something but stopped herself. She didn't ask questions, didn't push—she just listened as her former coworker shared:
"Miguel's falling apart. Since you left, it's been chaos. He fights with accounts every day. Before, we'd stay until 9 p.m.—now we're stuck here until 2 in the morning. I swear, I don't know what to do anymore. I'm not sleeping. And the worst part? They promoted the intern. Well, not officially, but they're giving him senior-level projects… and still paying him like a junior. Every single day, someone tells Miguel he never should've let you quit without a replacement. But he shuts them down and says we don't need anyone."
Valentina wanted to laugh. She could taste a hint of bitter-sweet revenge in her mouth, but she knew it wasn't right. Her former colleagues were suffering, and worse—she felt anxious, sad, and deeply hurt. Projects she'd poured years into, campaigns she had overseen… it was all going down the drain.
At one point, when she quit, she thought they wouldn't survive without her. That she was the best. Maybe it was adrenaline or the confidence of having left no major mistakes behind—or at least fixing them in time—but deep down, she knew everyone was replaceable. Just like she left, someone else would come in to fix things… or destroy them.
At two sharp, in the emergency meeting with her bosses and the account director, Valentina began by highlighting the positives: the progress made. But then she had to be honest—especially about the logistical issues that were keeping her up at night.
"I ran the numbers, and we have a problem with the travel-related items. Based on their requirements, they're asking for 20 short film-style videos each year, shot in different parts of the continent, all for the same flat rate… which is just not viable. Suppliers, scheduling, transport—none of it adds up. But what worries me most is their pricing cap. It doesn't generate any profit. In fact, it only covers about half the logistical costs for an average team. Even my former agency wouldn't take that deal. And if we win this bid as it stands… we'll be facing a loss of five hundred million francs."
Silence. The room froze. Sweat started to run down her back. Her heart pounded—not because she had said anything wrong, but because she was still on probation, and this could easily cost her the job.
"But I have a solution. I don't know what you'll think, but I figured we could absorb the losses into higher-margin projects. I know it sounds risky, but that's where accounts comes in. We could propose more pieces to the client, loop in the creative team, and that way we could improve the profit flow. We'd also need to invest in some in-house equipment. Otherwise… there's no way to win this. And I know Burnes—they'll probably bid on everything except this part," Valentina said confidently.
A wave of adrenaline hit her. If her bosses pushed back, she was ready to stand her ground. She would simply say she spoke from experience. That she didn't care anymore. That she preferred being honest over staying silent out of fear.
"Let's do it. I want you to outline the per-video logistics costs so Jeremya and I can work around this," said Elías, her beta boss, sighing in relief.
"Thank you. This is why we hired you," said Karl, her omega boss, with a wide smile.
It was the first time Valentina had been thanked like that for her work—or rather, for her opinion. She felt incredibly happy. Proud of herself. She wasn't used to it, but it felt good. She thought about messaging Bastian to tell him what had just happened… but decided to wait until she was on her way to the airport.
At exactly seven, she tidied up her desk. The thought of coming back Monday to a mess unsettled her. She had always believed that a clean space helped her think more clearly—or at least it always had before.
Just as she was about to leave her office, Karl appeared unexpectedly.
"Looks like someone's about to have a very passionate weekend," he said sarcastically.
"Excuse me?" Valentina looked at him, confused.
"Your eyes, woman. You're in heat, aren't you?"
The cycle had begun. According to her calculations, it was supposed to start the next day, but it had come early. It was never perfectly timed—it could vary—but she usually had a rough idea.
It wasn't like an omega's heat, but after what Karl had said, she realized why she'd been so desperate to see Bastian. In her case, it would last about a day and a half.
She shut her eyes in despair. Apologies spilled out of her mouth. She opened her suitcase, searching for her suppressant. Shame surged from her hands to her face. She turned bright red. She felt dirty. Improper.
"Valentina, calm down. You've done nothing wrong. I'm an omega—look at me. You haven't done anything wrong," said her boss, gently trying to take her hands.
"Sir… I'm sorry. I'll try to always carry my suppressants with me," she replied with a trembling voice.
"Valentina… you haven't done anything wrong. It's just your cycle. Take your suppressant and that's it. Also… your scent is actually quite nice," Karl added kindly.
She couldn't process it. Nice? That word echoed in her head again and again. As a beta, she'd been taught since school never to emit her scent. To never leave a trace of her biology. That she must never, under any circumstance, show signs of being in heat.
Thirty minutes passed. She came out of her daze and headed to the restroom to make sure her eyes had returned to their normal color—and that her body had stopped emitting scent.
Karl had already left. She felt calmer. But she couldn't wait any longer—she had to rush to the airport if she didn't want to miss her flight. She ordered a taxi. When she unlocked her phone, she saw a message from Bastian.
WChat—Honey, I'm sorry. I won't be able to see you this weekend. Something came up. I'll tell you later. Kisses.
She didn't know whether to cry, scream, or laugh. Rage. Frustration. Her hands clenched. She bit her lip to stop herself from bursting into hysterical laughter right there in the office.
She knew it wasn't her fault… or so she thought. But he could've warned her earlier. He'd had all day. Then she stopped herself—his grandparents were still alive. Maybe… something had happened to them.
WChat—Did something bad happen? Do you need anything? Call me when you can.
**
Meanwhile, on the other side of the city, footsteps echoed with purpose. An imposing presence arrived—someone no one had invited, yet who always made himself known.
"Haha… I didn't come to fight. And we both know you need the money."
Raffael knew he wouldn't be welcome. Not by Lucas. After their last encounter, he'd sworn never to return to this neighborhood. But as if fate was mocking him, he had to swallow his pride.
He had searched everywhere for a helmet that no supplier had. Even called overseas. Nothing. He found it only outside the continent—but it would take three months to arrive.
"I don't have it. It's been out of stock for months," Lucas said with disdain.
Lucas felt Raffael's eyes scanning him. Like he had something on his face. Like he was analyzing his chest. That made him feel tense. He straightened his back, lifted his chin, and hardened his gaze. He felt the other man trying to assert dominance—again.
"What? Do you like me?" Lucas said, sarcastic.
Raffael froze. His face darkened, caught between disgust and shock. It had never even crossed his mind to be with a beta. Especially him. He stepped back, visibly uncomfortable.
"You should talk to your omega… or you'll start losing clients."
"Watch your next words," Lucas growled.
"HAHAHA. You're such an idiot. Stupid beta… someone bathed you in pheromones."
Silence.
Lucas went still. He knew what a pheromone bath was. His mothers had explained it to him in detail. And now… some things made sense.
Raffael noticed the silence. He figured Lucas had no idea, so he sighed and said, almost resigned:
"Look...I'm not a fan of your kind. But if you don't disperse it, you're going to lose a lot of customers. Consider it an apology for last time."
Once Raffael left, Lucas locked up the shop. He couldn't stop thinking about what he'd just heard.
He was a beta. He couldn't detect pheromones the way others could. He could only sense the scent if it was emitted on purpose—not if it clung to his body. He'd never asked for that bath. Never wanted it. But if a client—especially one who wasn't beta—caught the scent, they'd leave. And Lucas couldn't afford that.
It was almost 9 p.m. The day had been endless. He hadn't even realized he'd kept the shop closed for four hours, lost in thought.
Ten missed calls from Andrea. Ten messages asking if he was okay, why he wasn't answering.
He wanted to call. He wanted to ask directly if it was true. But he also knew… that wasn't the way.
It had been days since he'd last seen Valentina. And now, more than ever, he needed her.
Incoming call"Hey… I'm sorry," Lucas said, heart heavy.
"What do you want me to say? That I forgive you?" Valentina replied, sarcasm lacing her voice.
"…Can we meet? Can you come to my shop? Buy me a pheromone dispenser from the drugstore for me...."