CHAPTER 39
OLIVE
I have no moretears to cry.
The center ofEdenis breathtaking, just like I knew it would be. It’s a converted luxury hotel, with a glass chandelier in the front lobby and striking white marble floors.
But the scent stands out the most.
Pure Omega, sweet and sugary, wafts through the air.
It smells like a fucking candy shop in here.
The moment I step into the front lobby, though, a Beta woman with short brown hair and a stoic expression wraps her arm around me and hurries me past the reception area. Her hand is chilly and her grip is much too tight as she leads us away from the small group of people gathered and down a hallway.
The area is just as lovely as the front lobby, with more delicate chandeliers and antique furniture decorated throughout the area.
“Where are we going?” I ask dumbly, as I pass by an Omega dressed in a blue sequined gown. Her expression is blank, but she shoots me a quick, knowing look as we walk by her.
Interesting.
The Beta woman gives me a smile that doesn’t meet her eyes.
“To your room,” she says, her voice light. “My name is Monica. We’ve been waiting for you, Olive Astor.”
Fuck me.
She leads us to a set of elevators, and I shuffle uncomfortably as the bellDINGS.
“I’m sure you know this, but please don’t be difficult,” Monica adds, as the doors close. “We all want what’s best for you. We don’t want to subdue you unless we have to.”
She keeps her red lipstick lips pulled into a smile as she looks down at me, her eyes devoid of sympathy. “You’re very lucky,” she muses, reaching out to touch a strand of my hair. “We don’t have any other redheads here.”
What in the dystopian fuck is going on?
That she’s bought into this mentality is insane. I hoped I would find an ally in her, maybe just an ounce of compassion, but there’s nothing there for me.
“You know, you’re allowed to talk,” she adds. “Do you have any questions?”
I’m dumbfounded as the elevator opens and we enter a long corridor, passing by numerous white doors with numbers written in gold,
Do I have any questions?!
How about what the hell is going to happen to me?
“I…” My voice trails off as we come to the end of the hallway, stopping at the furthest door from the elevator. She pulls a brass key out of her pants pocket, and as she unlocks the door, panic sets in.
Her hand wraps around my wrist before I can move. “There are security guards around the hall,” she says, her manicured nails digging into my skin. “It’s either the stun gun or the sedative. It will be your choice.”
“You can’t be serious,” I whisper. “This isn’t fair.”
At that, she pushes open the door and pulls me inside. I stumble into the room, and my jaw drops.
This isn’t a hotel suite. It’s apenthouse.
The front area has a couch, a marble coffee table, and a flatscreen television. On the other side is a full kitchen, and in the rear, a bedroom with a dark wood canopy bed.
With floor to ceiling windows, I’m granted a generous view of Beverly Hills.