The staff bows as Victor enters first, introduced as "Alpha Warren." The moment the title falls from the handler's lips, the women swarm like moths to flame.
Maxwell watches from the corner of the room, expression unreadable. Not a single one of them looks his way.
Perfect.
The first hour is a performance.
Victor plays his role well, nodding when appropriate, smiling with an aloof detachment Maxwell trained into him.
The women eat it all up, fluttering and preening. One rests a hand on Victor's shoulder.
Another tries to slip a strand of his hair behind his ear, lips painted and glossy.
Maxwell suppresses a sneer.
They're not here to mother a legacy. They're here for what they can gain.
He sees it in the hunger behind their eyes.
Except one.
The little omega from the interview, the one with the bruised mouth and freckled cheeks, the one who wouldn't stop stammering.
Regina Lowell.
She's not in the cluster.
Instead, Maxwell spots her slipping out the side door, shoulders curled inward, eyes hollow.
He frowns at her.
She's barely more than a shadow against the sterile walls.m and he follows, unnoticed, through the wide hallway.
Finally, she comes to a stop and leans against the wall in the quiet, breathing like she's run a mile.
He approaches, quiet as a ghost.
"Why aren't you in there?" He demands bluntly.
She blinks up at him, startled.
Her brows pinch. She looks him over, doesn't see him. Not really.
"Y-you're one of the Beta attendants, right?" She asks shakily, straightening up a little as she peers at him, her eyes a little bit more brighter than when he saw her in the rec room.
He gives no answer, crossing his arms and pointedly waiting for her to answer his question first.
No way was he taking orders from an imp of an omega with barely substandard qualities.
She exhales, slow and annoyed, her green eyes flashing a bit. Ah, so there's the fight that was stated in her files. "I don't want to fight for the Alpha's attention. Not right now."
"Why?"
Her laugh is hollow. "Because I might get killed for it. You haven't seen how they are in the dorms. It's… brutal." She whispers like she doesn't want him to hear.
"So you're waiting?" He makes sure it sounds appropriately stupid for doing something that….. useless. How is she going to gain his (fake) attention if she just waits?
She nods like it's the most normal thing in the world, "I'll make a move when they're done circling him. For now, I just want to breathe without claws in my back."
He watches her for a long moment.
There is no fear in her. No hunger either. Just survival.
Something twists in his gut.
He leaves her with no words, but later that night, back in his estate, he makes a call.
"I want every file on Gina Lowell. Including what the facility hasn't sent."
An hour later, the data streams across his desk.
He reads in silence.
Notes the childhood malnutrition, the fracture at thirteen, the history of fights.
The report is as unremarkable as expected, except for the financials.
Her grandfather's medical debt is obscene for a family as destitute as hers. No other relatives. No backup. Just her and a name weighed down by bills.
Gina applied to the program not out of greed, but desperation.
He leans back in his chair.
Someone with that much weight will obey. Loyalty carved by survival.
Maxwell taps the file with a manicured nail.
A desperate woman can be dangerous. But she can also be trained.
Maybe she's worth keeping after all.
He keeps reading.
***
Day Two.
Victor endures the circus again, looking a kind of strained that only comes after enduring the attention of more than one woman.
The women have even ramped up their performance, whispering over one another, gifts appearing out of nowhere; homemade toys, embroidery, even poetry.
Victor plays along, ever graceful in the face of this.
Maxwell keeps to the background, watching.
Gina-Regina, he corrects himself, though the name feels too big for her- remains on the periphery.
It seems like the sharks have smelt blood in the water and in accordance have begun to target Gina with pinpointed cruelty.
A shoulder shoved here. A tray knocked from her hands there. Spilled tea, sharp whispers, missing clothing.
Maxwell watches it all.
Layer that evening, he finds her in the same hallway again, pressing cold water-soaked towels to the dark bruise blooming beneath her eye that had been given when a particular beta with a ponytail had pushed her into the wall.
He stands for a moment, watching the pathetic sight She doesn't notice until he speaks.
"Use this." He says quietly.
She jumps and turns to face him, eyes a little wild.
Maxwell just holds out the ice pack he had taken from the one of the staff.
She eyes it warily.
"It'll help with the swelling," he adds, when she says nothing.
She takes it slowly, fingers brushing against his with a little, "Thank you," murmured in between.
"Why don't you fight back?" he asks, not unkindly, the question itching the back of his brain for the past few hours.
She lifts one shoulder in a ghost of a shrug. "What for? The strongest always rules. That's just nature, isn't it?"
He stares at her, momentarily speechless.
She places the ice to her cheek. Winces. "I just want to make it through the next few days." She assures him, thinking he needs the comfort (he doesn't)
Scoffing, the Alpha leans against the sink, arms crossed and watches her in the mirror.
"Most people would claw to the top." He says stiffly . The omega laughs, flashing him a dimpled grin.
"I'm not most people." She jokes and presses the ice against her wrist next.
He almost smiles.
***
Day Three.
The dorms are quieter now. More tense. The women have started turning on each other; side glances, passive-aggressive comments, whispered accusations.
They're unraveling, each convinced she's the frontrunner, each desperate to protect her place.
Gina bears the brunt of it.
They call her names, rearrange her belongings, trip her in the hall.
One pours shampoo on her bed while she's showering.
She never retaliates, just bears it with haunted eyes.
Maxwell sees her bruises again. This time, he doesn't ask.
She walks past him in the corridor, soaked to th4 bone from where an omega threw water on her, eyes distant.
The third day finally ends, and Victor returns to the car, exhausted and faintly smudged with lipstick.