The dim, flickering light of the single bulb in the cramped apartment cast long shadows over the peeling wallpaper. Ezra Alexander sat on the edge of the threadbare couch, his hands trembling as he counted the crumpled bills he’d earned that day. Twenty-three dollars. Not enough. It was never enough.

In the other room, his father’s gruff voice slurred into the silence, muttering to himself as he downed the last of a cheap bottle of whiskey. Ezra winced at the sound of glass shattering. Another broken bottle. Another piece of his already fragile world falling apart.

The debts increased over them like a storm cloud on a rainy day, a suffocating reminder of mistakes that weren’t his. His father had gambled away their lives years ago, and Ezra had been paying for it ever since. Every paycheck went to the faceless men who came knocking at their door, their demands growing harsher with each visit.

“Ezra!” his father barked from the next room. “Where’s the money?”

“I already gave it to them,” Ezra called back, his voice steady despite the fear curling in his stomach. “There’s nothing left.”

The silence that followed was more unsettling than his father’s anger. Ezra’s mind raced, anticipating another drunken outburst, but the only sound was the creak of the old floorboards as he stood ignoring the hunger he felt .

“You think they’ll stop coming just because you gave them some scraps?” his father sneered, stumbling into the room. His bloodshot eyes bore into Ezra’s. “You need to work harder. Get more. Or do you want them to take it out on me?”

Ezra clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms. He wanted to scream, to remind his father that he’d been the one to dig this hole, but he swallowed his anger. It wouldn’t change anything.

“I’ll figure something out,” he muttered, grabbing his worn out jacket from the back of a chair.

The cold night air hit him like a slap as he stepped outside. The streets were quiet, save for the distant hum of traffic and the occasional bark of a stray dog. Ezra pulled his jacket tighter around him and headed toward the cafe where he worked.

It wasn’t much a small, dingy place frequented by night owls and the occasional drunk looking for greasy food to soak up their liquor, but it was steady. Or as steady as anything could be in his life.

As he rounded the corner, a sleek black car sped past, its headlights illuminating the cracked pavement. Ezra barely had time to register the luxury of it a stark contrast to his surroundings before it came to a screeching halt a few feet ahead.

The door opened, and a tall figure stepped out. Even in the dim light, Ezra could see the confidence in the man’s stride, the effortless grace that seemed out of place in this part of town. His tailored suit clung perfectly to his broad frame, and his sharp features were illuminated as he glanced around, his piercing eyes settling on Ezra.

“Excuse me,” the man said, his voice smooth and commanding. “Do you know the way to Halcyon Avenue?”

Ezra froze, caught off guard by the sheer presence of the stranger with a masculine perfect figure . Halcyon Avenue was in the city’s wealthiest district, a place he’d only ever dreamed of.

“Uh, yeah,” Ezra stammered, pointing down the road. “It’s about two miles that way. Take a right at the light.”

The man studied him for a moment, his gaze lingering in a way that made Ezra’s cheeks flush.

“Thank you,” he said, but instead of getting back into the car, he extended his hand. “I’m Adrian Locke.”

Ezra blinked, unsure of what to say. The name sounded familiar, but it wasn’t until he shook Adrian’s hand that he realized why. Adrian Locke was one of the most powerful businessmen in the city.

“I—uh, Ezra,” he finally managed.

Adrian’s lips curved into a faint smile. “Ezra. It was a pleasure to meet you.”

It was a simple exchange, but as Adrian returned to his car and drove away, Ezra couldn’t shake the feeling that something had just shifted.

He didn’t know it yet, but that brief encounter was the beginning of a chain of events that would change his life forever.

The glow of the expensive car disappeared into thin air, leaving Ezra alone under the dim streetlamp. He shook his head, pushing the strange encounter to the back of his mind. Rich alpha men like Adrian Locke didn’t belong in his world in which omegas were viewed as assets of possession therefore he had no time to fantasize about the lives of people who’d never know the weight of survival.

The cafes neon sign buzzed faintly in the distance, its letters flickering like a failing heartbeat. Ezra picked up his pace, stepping inside to the familiar clang of the bell above the door. The air smelled of stale coffee and grease, and the diner’s cracked vinyl booths were mostly empty, saved for a few regulars nursing their late-night meals.

“Ezra, you’re late!” barked Carla, the cafe’s owner, a sharp-featured alpha woman whose constant scowl could rival her coffee’s bitterness.

“Sorry,” Ezra muttered, slipping behind the counter to grab his apron. He tied it around his waist, the fabric stained from countless shifts, and got to work.

The hours dragged as he refilled coffee cups, scrubbed tables, and juggled orders with practised efficiency. His coworkers avoided him, as they always did, sensing the heavy air of someone carrying more than his share of burdens.

Around midnight, when the cafe finally quieted, Ezra slumped against the counter, his body aching. The soles of his shoes had worn thin, and every step sent a dull pain up his legs. He glanced at the clock and sighed. Another two hours to go.

As he stared blankly at the kitchen’s swinging door, his thoughts drifted to his father. He hated leaving him alone, but staying home wasn’t much better. At least here, the clatter of dishes and hum of the fryer drowned out the sound of his father’s bitter words echoing in his mind.

“Hey,” Carla’s voice snapped him out of his reverie. She slid a plate of leftover fries across the counter. “Eat something. You’re looking like a damn ghost.”

Ezra hesitated but grabbed a fry, the salty warmth easing the tight knot in his stomach. He hadn’t eaten all day.

“Thanks,” he said quietly.

Carla huffed, leaning against the counter. “Kid, you need to take care of yourself. No one’s gonna do it for you.”

Her words hit harder than she probably intended. Ezra nodded but didn’t respond. How could he explain that his entire life revolved around taking care of someone else? That every spare cent, every ounce of energy, went toward keeping his father’s demons at bay and their fragile existence intact?

As the clock struck two, Ezra wiped down the last table and hung up his apron. His shift was over, but the night was far from kind. He stepped back into the cold, the air biting at his skin, and began the long walk home.

The streets were eerily quiet, the kind of silence that made him hyperaware of every distant sound—the scuff of his shoes, the rustle of a stray paper, the faint hum of a car engine far away

When he reached the apartment, the door was ajar. His stomach dropped.

Inside, the living room was a mess. Furniture was overturned, bottles shattered, and his father sat slumped in the corner, cradling his head in his hands.

“They came again,” his father mumbled, his voice barely audible. “Said they’d be back if we don’t pay.”

Ezra’s heart pounded. The debt collectors. He scanned the room, his eyes landing on a fresh dent in the wall. They hadn’t been kind this time.

“I’ll handle it,” Ezra said softly, though he didn’t know how.

His father looked up, his eyes hollow. “You always say that, Ezra. When’s it gonna end?”

Ezra had no answer. He simply grabbed a broom and began cleaning the mess, his movements robotic. His father watched for a moment before retreating to his room, the door closing with a finality that left Ezra feeling more alone than ever.

As he swept up the broken glass, his mind wandered back to Adrian Locke. He shook his head, scolding himself for the thought. A man like that didn’t belong in his life. But as the night stretched on, and the weight of his struggles threatened to crush him, Ezra couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like to live without fear, even for a moment. Bitter thoughts followed in his mind of how he was going to clean up a mess he didn't do , Ezra cried himself to sleep, wondering if he would escape from his painful reality.

Adrian Locke leaned back in the leather seat of his car, his fingers drumming against the steering wheel. The city lights blurred past as his driver navigated through the unfamiliar streets. He hadn’t planned to stop earlier, but something about the omega had caught his attention.The feeling was unfamiliar with him as he was the kind of person who didn't believe in love at first sight .

Adrian was used to attention, used to the way people looked at him with a mix of admiration and fearfulness , just a small release of his pheromone, even alphas, would fear for their future. As an alpha and one of the wealthiest men in the city, his presence commanded respect. Yet, when Ezra’s wide, nervous hazel eyes looked at him, he did not show any sign of amazement towards the dominant alpha, which triggered Adrian inner feeling of wanting to know the omega more .It wasn’t the usual cringing gaze he had grown tired of. It was real.

“Sir, we’re approaching Halcyon Avenue,” his driver announced, breaking Adrian’s thoughts.

“Good. Drop me off at the building,” Adrian replied, his tone clipped.

The car came to a smooth halt outside a towering glass skyscraper, its sleek facade reflecting the glittering city skyline. Adrian stepped out, his polished shoes clicking against the pavement as he adjusted his tailored suit, which cost a lot of money. The night’s charity gala had ended hours ago, but Adrian had little interest in the event, and already, his social battery died. It was the same shallow chatter, the same power plays.

He stepped into the elevator and pressed the button for the penthouse. As the doors closed, his reflection stared back at him, his sharp jawline and piercing eyes betraying none of the weariness he felt inside.

The doors slid open to reveal his expensive apartment, a study in modern luxurious floor-to-ceiling windows offered an uninterrupted view of the city below, and the minimalist decoration was neat as a new pin and beautiful despite of living lavish life loneliness and despair still lingered around him .

Adrian shrugged off his jacket and poured himself a glass of scotch, the amber liquid swirling as he walked to the window. He sipped in silence, his mind replaying the brief encounter with Ezra, which still played in his mind regardless of trying to push it to the back of his head.

There was something about the omega that stirred something deep within him, something he couldn’t quite name. Ezra had seemed so fragile yet resilient, his presence an anomaly in the grimy streets Adrian had found himself in tonight.

Adrian sighed, running a hand through his dark hair. He wasn’t one to fixate on strangers, and yet Ezra lingered in his thoughts.

A soft chime interrupted his musings. He glanced at his phone, the screen displaying a message from his assistant: “Tomorrow’s board meeting is at 10 a.m. Do you need anything prepared in advance?”

Adrian typed a quick response and set the phone down, his thoughts returning to Ezra. He was aware of the vast gulf between their worlds. Omegas like Ezra, struggling to survive, rarely cross paths with alphas of his standing. Yet, for the first time in years, Adrian felt something other than the suffocating dullness of his privileged life of following a routine every day.

He downed the rest of his scotch and set the glass down with a quiet clink. There was more to Ezra than what he’d seen in that fleeting moment, and Adrian found himself wanting to know more.

The next morning, Adrian strode into Locke Enterprises, his presence commanding attention as employees straightened and greeted him with reverence. The board meeting dragged on, filled with discussions about quarterly projections and expansion strategies, but Adrian’s mind wandered.

After the meeting, he retreated to his private office, its walls lined with bookshelves and a massive desk at its centre. He leaned back in his chair, his gaze fixed on the cityscape beyond the window.

“Sir,” his assistant’s voice crackled through the intercom, “there’s someone here to see you. A Mr. Jonathan Harrington.”

Adrian frowned. Jonathan Harrington was a fellow alpha and a known loan shark. His presence was rarely a good sign , this sent a cold shiver towards his spine .

“Send him in,” Adrian said, his tone cold.

The door opened to reveal a burly man in a cheap suit, his face lined with years of dubious dealings.

“Adrian,” Jonathan said, his grin predatory. “It’s been a while.”

“What do you want?” Adrian asked, cutting straight to the point.

Jonathan chuckled, taking a seat uninvited. “Always so direct. I’m here about a debt someone who owes me quite a bit of money. Name’s Harold. Ring a bell?”

Adrian’s jaw tightened. Harold. It wasn’t a common name, and something told him this had to do with Ezra.

“What does this have to do with me?” Adrian asked, masking his interest.

“Nothing yet,” Jonathan said, his tone casual. “But Harold’s son, an omega, caught your attention last night, didn’t he? I hear things, Adrian. You know that.”

Adrian’s eyes narrowed. “Stay away from him.”

Jonathan smirked. “Relax. I’m just saying that if you’re interested, we could work something out. The kid’s drowning in debt. He could use a lifeline.”

Adrian stood abruptly, his imposing frame towering over Jonathan. “You will leave him alone. Do you understand me?”

Jonathan raised his hands in mock surrender. “Fine, fine. There's no need to get worked up. But consider this a friendly warning debt doesn’t disappear, Adrian. Not even for someone like you.”

Adrian waited until Jonathan left before sinking back into his chair. His mind raced, the weight of the conversation settling over him.

Ezra wasn’t just struggling he was trapped in a nightmare. And now Adrian knew he couldn’t simply walk away.

Will Adrian Locke the famous alpha be involved in the life of a struggling omega like Ezra ?🤔