Chapter Text
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"I'll do as I please." Harry's voice reverberated through the mansion as he hastened his steps towards the exit.
"Mr. Styles, your father explicitly instructed me not to permit you to attend the party. Those were his exact words before he and your mother departed for France," stated Alfred Tabor, Harry's butler.
Alfred, a short, dignified man of approximately 45 years, had a longstanding connection with the Styles family. He served as a right-hand man to Harry's father, Desmond, and had been present throughout Harry's entire life. He was akin to family.
Harry's father embodied strong principles, having risen from poverty to becoming one of the wealthiest individuals in the country by the time his son was born.
Consequently, Harry was born into privilege, but this privilege often manifested as entitlement, rebellion, hedonism, and lewdness, typical of many affluent youths.
Anne, Harry's mother, held hope that her son would outgrow his rebellious and licentious behavior, but Desmond remained steadfast in his determination to instill discipline and improvement in Harry.
Hence, he had chosen to vacation in France with his wife for a week, leaving Harry with business responsibilities, and had entrusted Alfred with the task of overseeing his son.
Alfred trailed just behind Harry, his pace nearly matching Harry's, yet his movements exuded refinement and elegance, contrasting sharply with the clumsy and irate strides of Harry.
"Mr. Styles, you cannot go!" Alfred asserted, his voice resonating with authority.
Harry halted abruptly, pivoting to face his butler. "You have no right to tell me what to do or what not to do," he retorted defiantly.
Alfred raised an eye, "Are you forgetting that I practically raised you?"
Harry's expression softened as Alfred's question sank in. Despite being a thorn in his side, Harry couldn't deny Alfred's pivotal role in his life. Harry knew Alfred cared for like his own son.
But Alfred was extremely loyal to his father. He would constantly keep an eye on Harry and as soon as he'd find out something scandalous that Harry did, he'd immediately tell Desmond and then Harry would have to deal with the consequences- scoldings, reprimands.
"It's just one party, Alfred. I'm twenty four. If I don't party now, then when will I?" Harry reasoned, crossing his arms defiantly.
In the dimly lit expanse of the luxurious mansion hall, only the glow of the towering chandelier illuminated their exchange. Alfred sighed, acknowledging Harry's statement.
"At twenty four, your father worked 12-hour days," Alfred reminded Harry solemnly.
Harry's eyes darkened at the reminder of his father's accomplishments. The constant comparisons grated on him like nails on a chalkboard. While he appreciated his father's hard work and the privileges it afforded him, being constantly measured against his father's achievements left him feeling inadequate and resentful. He despised the way it made him feel lesser, as if he could never measure up.
"Well, my father was the only alpha son of a poor farmer, and I'm the only alpha son of a wealthy businessman," Harry shrugged.
He then realized he had blurted out the comparison without intending to, and he couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt for dragging his late grandfather into the conversation just for the sake of a comeback.
"Harry, you have a business meeting to attend tomorrow," Alfred sighed, his disappointment evident in his tone.
Alfred had long believed that Harry possessed natural business acumen, perhaps inherited from his father, but he often fell short in terms of seriousness and determination.
Business didn't seem to be Harry's top priority; instead, he prioritized luxurious parties and personal enjoyment, relegating business matters to secondary importance, a perspective that Alfred found deeply concerning.
When Alfred shifted from addressing him as "Mr. Styles" to simply "Harry," a sinking feeling settled in Harry's stomach. He knew he had crossed a line and disappointed Alfred deeply. But he had to go. Call him selfish, but he liked to do what he wanted to, no matter what.
"And I will attend it," Harry assured nonchalantly, though his confidence faltered under Alfred's pointed question.
"With a hangover?" Alfred countered, his skepticism palpable.
"I won't drink that much," Harry replied, the dishonesty evident in his tone, even to himself.
"Harry-" Alfred began, but his words fell on deaf ears as Harry simply walked away and out of the room.
Alfred sighed heavily, rubbing his forehead in frustration. "What am I going to do about this kid?" he muttered to himself.
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Harry stepped out of his Lamborghini and made his way into the club recently launched by his friend, Liam. It was the grand opening night, and Liam had organized a party exclusively for their social circle.
Entry fees were steep, but as Harry approached the entrance, he noticed a sign that read, "Attractive omegas enjoy complimentary entry."
Harry chuckled at the sign, Liam was such a bastard. Shaking his head with a grin, he nodded at the guard stationed at the entrance, who promptly ushered him in with a respectful "Welcome, sir."
As Harry entered the sumptuous club, he couldn't help but notice the immediate attention he garnered. Pretty omegas, likely gold diggers well aware of his societal status, cast flirtatious glances his way, batting their eyelashes in a bid for his attention.
Clad in a black button-down shirt with the top buttons undone, paired with tight black jeans, adorned with a cross chain and rings, his attire exuded effortless style. His messy curls were artfully styled into a relaxed quiff, adding to his magnetic presence.
He flashed a flirtatious smile at the omegas before striding confidently towards his group of friends.
"Drowning in pussy and you just walked in," Zayn, his friend, remarked with a scoff, eliciting laughter from their group of four friends.
Harry shrugged nonchalantly, a smirk playing on his lips. "It is what it is," he replied.
"Fancy a smoke?" Liam offered, extending a cigar towards Harry.
"Don't mind if I do," Harry replied, accepting the cigar and taking a leisurely puff.
"You guys won't believe what happened last night," Sarah Jones, their friend and an alpha female, exclaimed, drawing the attention of their group.
Harry, Liam, Zayn, and Sarah were all alphas and had been close friends since the age of 14, attending the same prestigious private high school.
Apart from their alpha circle, Harry also had a beta friend, Mitch Rowland, who attended Columbia University in America.
Additionally, there was one omega friend, Mia Winslow, whom Harry regarded more like a sister. Although she was undoubtedly attractive, Harry had never considered pursuing anything romantic with her due to their close bond. Perhaps, she was the only attractive omega Harry wouldn't fuck because God knows he loves pleasure.
Mia attended university with Harry but preferred to avoid the party scene, so she wasn't present at the club with them.
In their group, Harry and Zayn attended Oxford where Harry was doing MBA along with Mia, while Liam and Sarah attended Cambridge.
"What?" Harry inquired, his curiosity piqued.
"She called me. Again," Sarah replied with a frustrated tone. Harry huffed in exasperation.
Sarah was referring to her toxic ex-girlfriend, an omega who had exploited Sarah for her wealth. Harry harbored a deep disdain for omegas like that, who manipulated alphas into believing it was genuine love when all they sought was financial gain.
In Harry's estimation, about sixty percent of omegas fell into this category—money trappers, as he saw it. That's why he preferred one-night stands and casual encounters over genuine relationships.
"What a bitch," Harry growled in agreement.
"Right? Like, why are you calling me and crying? You were the one who cheated, motherfucker," Sarah exclaimed, rolling her eyes in frustration.
"Forget her, and have a drink," Liam suggested, passing Sarah a drink, which she gratefully accepted.
"To Liam's new club!" Zayn declared, raising his glass high and handing one to each person in the group. Everyone joined in, raising their glasses and cheering for Liam as they made a toast to his new venture.
The remainder of the night passed in a blur, with the friends seated together, reminiscing about past memories and sharing stories of present challenges.
As they continued to drink and converse, Harry mentioned that he had work commitments the following day, as his father was out of the country and he needed to attend business meetings in his absence.
Despite Harry's impending responsibilities, his friends remained by his side, engaging in lively conversation and sharing laughter over everything and anything.
After a while, as night had fully descended, Harry and his friends decided to make their way to the dance floor.
Harry found himself grinding on a pretty omega named either Ava or Avery; he couldn't quite recall amidst the pulsating beats of "Baby By Me" by 50 Cent. Harry personally thought it was a song with a great beat but terrible lyrics because the last thing he wanted at the club was for someone there to have a baby by him and become a millionaire through child support. Yikes.
The omega giggled as Harry's hands ventured further down her waist, boldly cupping her ass.
Harry's gaze momentarily shifted, locking with the captivating stare of a boy across the room. His eyes, a mesmerizing shade of electric blue, held Harry's attention effortlessly.
It was evident to Harry that the boy was an omega, exuding an undeniable allure that surpassed even the omega currently in his arms. Despite wearing minimal makeup, or perhaps none at all, the boy looked prettier than the omega Harry currently was with.
Harry withdrew his hands from... Ava? Avery? Or maybe Amanda? Well, whoever she was. Without uttering a single word, Harry disentangled himself from the omega's grasp and walked away, leaving her to protest with an offended "hey!" and shooting daggers at him with her eyes.
Harry remained unfazed by the omega's protestations, his sole focus now on the captivating blue-eyed boy. As he approached, he noticed the boy was accompanied by two other omegas who were urging him to join them on the dance floor, though he appeared hesitant, displaying traits of shyness.
This only intrigued Harry further; he was drawn to the quiet, reserved type. Eavesdropping on their conversation discreetly, Harry sought to learn more about the boy.
"No! You guys have already dragged me here even though I didn't want to! You're not making me go to the dance floor with all those alphas," the pretty omega protested with a whine, adamant in his refusal.
A peculiar sensation churned in Harry's stomach as he watched the scene unfold. He couldn't bear the thought of the omega being on the dance floor, vulnerable to the advances of any alpha. The idea of someone else touching him ignited an instinctive growl within Harry, a reaction he found absurd considering he didn't even know the omega.
Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Harry made a decision. Tonight, he would take the omega home. No one else would have him. Even though he knew it would be just for tonight, he wanted the omega to be his, if only for a fleeting moment.
Approaching the omega, Harry found him standing alone, seemingly content to watch his friends on the dance floor with a smile. With determination in his stride, Harry closed the distance between them.
As Harry drew nearer to the omega, he was immediately enveloped by the intoxicating scent emanating from him. It was utterly mesmerizing, sweet and inviting, reminiscent of vanilla ice cream on a warm summer day.
"Hi," Harry greeted, standing beside the omega.
The omega shifted slightly away, offering a polite smile in return. "Hello," he replied.
"I'm Harry. And what's the pretty omega's name?" Harry inquired, gesturing towards the omega.
"Oh, who? My friend over there?" the omega, named Louis, asked, pointing towards one of his friends with blonde hair and blue eyes.
Harry chuckled at Louis's misunderstanding. It was evident that Louis wasn't accustomed to club settings and didn't realize Harry was flirting with him.
"No, I was talking about you," Harry clarified, casting a flirtatious gaze in Louis's direction.
The omega, Louis, blushed a deep shade of red and glanced away before answering, "I'm Louis."
"Well, Louis, do you want a drink?" Harry offered, prepared to cover the cost of as many drinks as Louis desired. However, Louis shook his head.
"I'm driving tonight, so no drinks for me," Louis declined politely.
Harry nodded thoughtfully. Louis seemed different from the other omegas Harry had encountered, but Harry couldn't help but wonder just how different he truly was. Perhaps he was putting on an act, Harry mused, unwilling to fully trust the notion of an omega being genuinely different from the rest.
Despite Harry's attempts at flirting, it became apparent that Louis wasn't as receptive as other omegas Harry had encountered. Sensing Louis's hesitance, Harry decided to take the initiative and make the first move. Perhaps Louis was simply shy, Harry reasoned.
Harry moved closer to Louis, suggesting, "How about we take this somewhere else?"
Louis raised an eyebrow, his expression wary. "Are you asking me to go with you?"
"Pretty much," Harry confirmed.
"No decorum? Just immediately want me in your bed for a night?" Louis questioned, his tone tinged with annoyance.
Harry chuckled at Louis's response. "You're in Liam Payne's club, talking to me. What did you expect? That's all I want, babe," he replied candidly.
Louis's eyes widened in realization. "Wait... you're Harry Styles? Fuck, you're him, aren't you?" he exclaimed.
Harry grinned, noting Louis's recognition. It seemed his fame often opened doors, particularly with omegas who were familiar with him. "Yeah," Harry confirmed with a nonchalant shrug.
Louis recoiled in disgust after recognising Harry, attempting to move away, but Harry firmly pulled him closer.
"Oh, come on, let me show you a good time," Harry persisted, trying to persuade Louis.
"Fuck off, you cunt," Louis growled, breaking free from Harry's grasp and swiftly retreating to his friends.
Harry's eyebrows furrowed in confusion and frustration at the omega's unexpected reaction. No omega had ever said no to him, let alone curse him out, they were always ecstatic to be with him. He felt a surge of disrespect and anger rising within him, fueling his determination to get what he wanted.
For the first time, Harry hadn't gotten his way, and it irked him deeply. His usually charming demeanor was overshadowed by a dark intensity in his eyes as he resolved to pursue his desire even more fervently.
Trying to calm his rising anger, Harry took a shot, hoping to regain his composure. Soon, a few other omegas flocked towards him, and he made a decision to take one of them home—a girl in a red dress—as he desperately needed a release.
Bididng farewell to his friends, Harry wrapped his arms around the omega, feeling her cling to him as they made their way out of the club.
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"Oh, God," Harry groaned as he swallowed a painkiller.
He was extremely hungover. He had to conceal his state from Alfred, or he'd be in big trouble. Thankfully, he was pretty sure Alfred was already at the office and Harry was alone in the mansion, well except for the maids of course.
The omega he had brought home had left before he had even woken up, something he was immensely grateful for.
"Here you go, darling," Zebda, Alfred's wife and the head maid of the mansion, said softly as she placed a cup of black coffee next to him, prepared exactly how he liked it. She knew it would help him feel better.
Harry offered Zebda a slight smile. She was a very kind and nurturing omega, and she had been a constant presence in his life since his birth.
Taking a sip of the coffee, Harry felt a slight improvement in his condition. He was dressed and ready, with 30 minutes to spare before he had to leave. Hopefully, the headache would subside by then.
Harry drank his coffee and another hangover cure, feeling grateful that he was back to normal by the time he was driving towards his office building—a tall, fancy skyscraper.
Upon arriving at the office, Harry headed straight to the meeting room, where he unsurprisingly, found Alfred already present.
Several murmurs of "Hello" filled the room, and Harry simply nodded in acknowledgment as he took his seat in the main chair at the desk.
"This meeting is mainly about our debtors," Hubert, one of the employees, announced, and Harry nodded, gesturing for him to continue.
Hubert continued to address the group, discussing the positive state of their business but highlighting the need to instill some urgency and accountability among their debtors, as they hadn't been meeting their repayment obligations effectively.
Harry nodded in agreement, his expression furrowing with concern at the news.
"Who's the person that owes us the most money?" Harry asked, his tone serious.
"Mark Tomlinson," Hubert replied promptly.
"Tell me about him," Harry requested.
"Mark Tomlinson is a man in his forties, an alpha. He has five children: an omega son, three omega daughters, and one alpha daughter. He's married, and he owes us €150,000," Hubert explained.
Harry let out a low whistle in response. "That much? Is he a gambler?" he inquired.
"No, sir. Just a few failed businesses," Hubert clarified.
Harry nodded thoughtfully. "Well, I ought to pay him a visit today. Put some sense into him," he remarked, a smirk forming on his lips.
"Exactly," Hubert agreed, nodding in approval.
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Harry knocked firmly on the door of Mark Tomlinson's house, his expression grave and determined. The house appeared aged and relatively small, particularly for a large family. Harry's imposing black Rolls-Royce Cullinan was parked prominently in front of the house. Concealed beneath his T-shirt, a gun was holstered in his belt.
While Harry's father disapproved of his more aggressive tactics for debt collection, Harry found that they consistently yielded results. Even Hubert, his father's trusted advisor, agreed.
The door was finally opened by a woman whom Harry suspected to be Mark's wife. She looked at him, and her eyes widened in recognition.
"Hello, darling," Harry greeted smoothly, flashing a quick, sly smile.
"Do you recognize me, or do I need to put a name to the face?" Harry quipped, raising an eyebrow inquisitively.
Harry noticed a hint of fear in the strangely familiar blue eyes of the woman, confirming his suspicion that she did recognize him and was scared. He scoffed inwardly. Despite his reputation, Harry had no intention of harming a seemingly kind-hearted middle-aged omega. He had his limits and drew the line at being a complete piece of shit.
"Are you going to let me in, darling? I won't do anything, I swear!" Harry said, raising his hands in mock surrender. "Especially not to you. I don't harm pretty things," he added cheekily, flashing a charming smile.
The woman was finally snapped out of her daze as she shook her head. "Of course, sorry! Come in, please. Come in. I'll call for Mark," she said, stepping aside to allow Harry to enter.
She showed Harry to the lounge, where he settled onto an old blue couch placed in the middle of the room. The woman, Johanna, stood nearby, observing him closely.
"Mark, honey! Hurry up and come down, please! There's someone here to see you!" she called out.
"A minute! I'm busy, Johanna. Tell them to wait!" Mark's voice echoed from upstairs.
"It's urgent!" Johanna shrieked in response, her tone indicating the seriousness of the situation.
"Oh, no, that's alright, lovely. He can take his time. I'll wait," Harry replied nonchalantly. He then casually placed his feet on the coffee table, adjusting himself to sit more comfortably on the couch. "I have plenty of time. Loads of it," Harry added, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
"W-would you like something to drink? Hot or cold? Or perhaps something to eat? We have sandwiches..." Johanna started to offer, but Harry cut her off with a chuckle.
He found the tendency of middle-aged omegas to offer hospitality to someone who was potentially threatening their husbands rather endearing. It seemed to happen almost every time! They were always so kind, even if their husbands were being 𝘥𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵.
"I'm afraid I'll have to skip on those sandwiches, darling, but I'm sure they'd be delicious. You seem like a wonderful cook! I'll have tea, though," Harry replied politely.
The omega nodded and quickly made her way towards the kitchen to prepare the tea.
As Harry found himself alone, he took a moment to look around the room. Everything felt oddly comforting and homey, with decorations adorning the walls and shelves. Many of them appeared to be school art projects, adding a personal touch to the space.
Harry idly played with one of the cushions placed on the sofa, feeling a sense of warmth and coziness despite the relatively small size of the house. Overall, he found himself liking the atmosphere of the home.
As Mark descended the stairs, his eyes widened in surprise as he caught sight of Harry.
Harry simply flashed him a friendly smile. "Hey!" he greeted casually, maintaining eye contact with Mark.
Mark gulped audibly, his hands beginning to shake as he walked closer to Harry.
"Do sit," Harry said, gesturing for Mark to take a seat in his own house.
Mark nodded nervously and complied, sitting down in front of Harry.
"Lovely house you've got here! And a lovely wife too. She's sweet! Reminds me of my mum," Harry flattered, adjusting himself more comfortably on the couch.
"I've been waiting for you for a while. I should make myself comfortable, no?" Harry challenged, locking eyes with Mark.
Mark immediately nodded, stammering, "O-Of course."
Harry sighed dramatically as he relaxed further into the couch, subtly taking out his gun and placing it on the coffee table. He couldn't help but notice how it made Mark's breath hitch.
"Much better," he muttered with a smirk.
"Why are you here?" Mark asked, his voice trembling with unease.
"You know why," Harry replied, his tone dark and menacing.
"I'll return the money as soon as I can," Mark pleaded desperately.
Harry tutted in frustration. "You've been saying that for three years. Enough is enough."
"I genuinely do not have any money," Mark pleaded again, his tone becoming more desperate.
Harry shrugged dismissively. "That's not my problem, is it?" he retorted coldly.
"Please—" Mark began, but Harry cut him off with a growl.
"Do you think our business could keep running if we let any motherfucker run off with €150,000?" Harry snapped.
"I'm not running off. I'll return it. I don't have it—" Mark tried to explain, but Harry scoffed in disbelief.
"You all say that. But you all do have the money, you just don't want to give it back. So give it back or we can coax it out of you," Harry declared, his eyes darkening with intensity.
Harry was about to say something, but then his nostrils were struck with the same familiar vanilla scent from last night. He frowned, feeling a sense of confusion and disbelief. Had the omega really affected him to the point where he was now smelling him out of nowhere? It seemed absurd, but Harry couldn't shake the sensation.
As Harry looked up, his eyes widened in surprise as he saw him standing there, looking utterly soft with a cup of tea in a tray. So, this was Mark's omega son? The same omega who had rejected him earlier? The very omega Harry wanted to fuck once, just to prove a point—that he always got what he wanted. It all made sense now why the omega had moved away when he recognized Harry.
Harry could hear the omega's breath hitch as he approached.
"Your tea, Mr. Styles," Louis said quietly, looking downwards as he served him tea.
The act seemed innocent on the surface, but in Harry's mind, it took on a more obscene tone. He could sense the omega's internal frustration, though Louis had to serve him tea regardless. Harry found his thoughts wandering to unexpected places as he watched the omega perform the simple task.
There was something oddly satisfying about having an omega who despised him serving him. It stirred a sense of amusement in his alpha nature.
"Thank you, darling," Harry spoke, flashing the omega a smile as Louis hurried away.
Harry took a sip of the tea, sighing contentedly. Well, at least the tea was delicious.
"I have nothing to give you! Believe me! I don't own anything. I have no money!" Mark pleaded helplessly.
Harry had encountered similar situations before, but Mark seemed genuinely desperate. Harry was inclined to believe that he really didn't have any money. It left Harry feeling uncertain and at a loss.
Usually, people would have some assets or resources that Harry could leverage or threaten to obtain repayment, but he had never dealt with a situation where the debtor truly had nothing. He didn't know what to do next.
Harry leisurely finished his tea, not saying a word while Mark watched him anxiously.
"I'll talk to my father about this. For now, I won't do anything to you," Harry said, offering a small glimmer of relief to Mark.
"Oh, thank you!" Mark sighed in relief.
"But I'll have people investigate you, and if we find out you're lying and actually do have money, I'll ruin your fucking life. Understood?" Harry growled, his tone leaving no room for negotiation.
"Yes! I promise you won't find anything!" Mark said quickly, his voice tinged with fear.
Harry just rolled his eyes, stood up, retrieved his gun, and made his way out without another word.
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𝑨 𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒌 𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒓
Harry rolled his eyes as his father hummed for the millionth time. He had returned to London just today, and Harry had informed him that he had resolved all the business issues except the one involving Mark Tomlinson.
"It certainly is a peculiar situation," Desmond remarked, his tone thoughtful.
"For fuck's sake," Harry muttered under his breath. The situation was genuinely frustrating him to no end. He wanted it resolved, and he hated when he couldn't complete a task. This was just that—a stubborn obstacle that refused to budge. Despite asking everyone for help, even his father, no one seemed to have a solution.
"Language," Alfred reprimanded Harry, who sighed in frustration. He loathed being in this situation.
"And we have found no dirt on Mark? No hidden assets? No money?" Desmond inquired, his tone tinged with disappointment.
"No, sir. I've checked everything," Hubert responded with a shake of his head.
"Well, I'll pay him a visit today. See if we can come to a compromise. There's no way he has nothing of value," Desmond declared, determination evident in his voice.
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Desmond looked darkly at Mark Tomlinson.
"I have no possessions. I have nothing!" Mark pleaded helplessly.
Desmond hummed at that. "Surely not nothing. You have a wife and kids."
Mark blinked in confusion. "Well, yes," he admitted.
Desmond pondered the situation. He had been hoping for some time now that Harry would outgrow his frat boy phase and take on more responsibility. While Desmond had previously cut him some slack, attributing his behavior to being in college, now that Harry was 24 and about to graduate in a few months, it seemed imperative to Desmond that Harry finally learned to take responsibility.
Harry was Desmond's only son, and Desmond harbored a deep fear that Harry would become so consumed by the pleasures of luxury that he would jeopardize the business Desmond had worked tirelessly to build.
Desmond recognized Harry's potential to run the business smoothly, but his son's priorities were askew. Harry didn't exhibit the traits of a responsible individual; he was careless and indulgent.
Desmond had once hoped that when Harry found an omega and fell in love, he would become more responsible. After all, marriage had a way of instilling responsibility in a person. Anne, his wife, was Desmond's rock, and he credited much of his success to her support.
However, Desmond soon realized that Harry had no intention of settling down. Despite seeing his son with numerous omegas, even gracing the front pages of tabloids with them wrapped around him, Harry had never brought an omega home. Just as with business, Harry didn't seem serious about commitment in relationships either.
Desmond was aware of Mark's many children, especially his omega offspring, and a dark thought had been brewing in his mind for some time. Initially, he had pushed it away, hoping that Harry would uncover some asset they could leverage to clear the debt.
However, with no viable solution in sight, Desmond found himself left with only one choice: to entertain the idea that had been lurking in the shadows of his mind.
"How many omega children do you have?" Desmond suddenly inquired.
"I have four. Three girls and one boy," Mark replied.
Desmond nodded in acknowledgment. "What are their ages?"
"The boy is 21, the oldest. Then I have a 16-year-old daughter and a set of twins who are 14," Mark explained.
"The boy. Show me a picture of him," Desmond requested, focusing on the eldest son as the most suitable candidate.
Mark, still puzzled by the request, retrieved his phone and displayed a picture of his son.
The boy appeared to be a kind and gentle omega, Desmond observed. While he anticipated resistance from Harry, he had a plan to address that challenge as well.
"I have a proposition for you, Mark," Desmond announced.
Mark nodded, awaiting Desmond's offer.
"If you arrange a marriage between your son and my son, I will absolve all your debts," Desmond proposed.
Mark's eyes widened in disbelief. "T-to Harry Styles?"
Desmond affirmed the identity with a nod.
"Sir, my son is very sensitive and-" Mark began.
"He will be well looked after, I assure you. Consider this, your son will marry into a family like mine. He will become my son-in-law. You will be debt-free, and I will ensure that your entire family, including your other children, are provided for. Money can solve many problems, Mark. How will you provide for all those kids? Pay for their education?" Desmond reasoned.
"I'll..." Mark hesitated.
"You don't have much of a choice," Desmond interjected.
"Give me a few days," Mark requested.
"You have until tomorrow," Desmond stated firmly before rising from his seat and exiting the room.
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Louis had been crying for what seemed like decades. His father had informed him about the offer Desmond Styles had made the previous night.
Louis had never felt so desperate and angry. Last night, he had shouted at his father, questioning how he could expect Louis to sacrifice so much. He had cried all night, his mind swirling with a thousand thoughts.
As morning dawned, Louis hadn't slept a wink. His father's words echoed in his mind, "Louis, you're the eldest. If you do this, your siblings will have a chance at a good life. It'll bring peace to me. Also, you know I can't afford your university fees any longer. If you do this, you'll be able to get whatever you want. You'll have a good life. None of us would have to worry about money ever again. Think about it, son."
Sighing heavily, Louis sat by the window, gazing outside. He watched the birds perched on a nearby tree, wishing he could be like them, so carefree. He longed to be anyone but himself, wishing he didn't have to bear this heavy burden.
Contemplating his siblings, his mother, and his aging father, Louis understood that his father could never repay the debt. He dreaded to think what the Styles would do to his father if he refused their offer. The memory of Harry arriving at their house with a gun sent shivers down his spine.
Louis felt a pang in his heart as he heard his youngest sister's laughter drifting from the room beside his. He rubbed his forehead, feeling the weight of guilt pressing down on him.
Tears welled up in his eyes once more as he recalled conversations with his siblings about their dreams for the future. He knew their aspirations would likely remain just that—dreams—because they lacked the financial means.
The burden of his father paying for the first two years of his university education, weighed heavily on him, knowing that his education had consumed the family's resources, leaving his siblings' dreams unattainable. The injustice of it all churned his stomach, threatening to overwhelm him.
Tears streamed down Louis's cheeks as he shook his head in disbelief. What had he been considering? Perhaps it was just the exhaustion clouding his judgment. How could he ever agree to such a proposition? Harry Styles—the very thought of aligning himself with that cruel bastard was repulsive to him.
As his siblings' voices grew louder, Louis felt the weight of responsibility crushing down on him. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out the overwhelming thoughts swirling in his mind.
His life for the life of his parents and four siblings......
That seemed... fair?
Even if Harry wasn't kind, Louis reasoned that he could endure whatever hardships came his way. It was a sacrifice he was willing to make for the sake of his siblings and parents.
As the eldest, he felt a deep sense of responsibility weighing on his shoulders, driving him to endure whatever challenges lay ahead.
Louis dashed downstairs before he could second-guess himself, finding his parents sitting in the lounge, calmly sipping tea and reading the newspaper. As he entered, his mother's expression shifted to one of concern, noticing Louis's bloodshot eyes, a clear sign that he hadn't slept.
"I'll do it," Louis declared, his voice firm.
His father sighed heavily, while his mother's gaze dropped to the floor.
"Louis—" his father started, but Louis cut him off.
"Just stop," Louis said sharply before turning and heading back upstairs.
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"So, son," Harry's father spoke casually as they played chess in the large study, "I talked to Mark Tomlinson, and it turns out he does have a possession."
"That bastard! I'll kill him. I knew—" Harry erupted angrily, his frustration evident.
"Ask me what that possession is first, Harry. Remember, anger is a double-edged sword," Desmond reprimanded sharply, his tone carrying a note of authority.
"What is it?" Harry asked, his gaze shifting from the chessboard to his father. Confusion clouded his expression.
"His omega son," Desmond responded simply, his tone serious.
Harry's eyes widened in shock. "I didn't think we did sex trafficking. I'm very against that—" Harry hurriedly interjected, a hint of defensiveness in his voice. Despite his flaws, he drew a line at certain moral boundaries.
"No! Obviously not that, you bastard!" Desmond snapped angrily, his frustration evident.
"Oh," Harry replied quietly, realizing his misunderstanding.
"I've asked him to marry his son to you," Desmond responded matter-of-factly.
"What?!" Harry exclaimed, appalled by the suggestion.
"It's the only way," Desmond shrugged, seemingly unfazed.
"Absolutely not. I'm never getting married," Harry replied firmly, shaking his head. He redirected his focus to the chessboard, contemplating his next move.
Desmond observed his son's avoidance of eye contact, recognizing his predictable response. He knew how to manipulate Harry into agreement.
"Son, do you realize what the entire company thinks of you? What the media says about you?" Desmond inquired, his tone probing.
"Yes, that I'm irresponsible and hedonistic. We've had this conversation a million times before," Harry replied with a hint of annoyance, rolling his eyes as he made his next move on the chessboard.
Desmond hummed thoughtfully, returning his attention to the game board.
"Well, it's important for you to understand that I won't be transferring any shares or ownership of the company to your name until you improve your reputation. I can't risk having my loyal employees believe I've entrusted the company to an irresponsible and hedonistic alpha," Desmond stated calmly, his tone unwavering.
Desmond made his move on the chessboard, his attention focused on the game.
Harry's eyes widened in disbelief. "You can't do that!" he protested.
"Yes, I can," Desmond replied firmly. "If you settle down, it will change perceptions. The media, the employees, and even myself will view you in a different light."
Harry rubbed his forehead, considering the offer. Louis... well, the omega certainly was pleasing to the eye. And his father hadn't mentioned any conditions...
"I just have to marry him. After that, you promise to transfer the company to my name?" Harry inquired cautiously.
"Yes," Desmond confirmed.
Harry pondered for a moment. No mention of a divorce clause.
Harry's anger towards Louis burned within him. Ever since the omega had rejected him, Harry felt a simmering resentment. It was almost a challenge now, a desire to conquer what he couldn't have.
So, Harry made his decision. He would agree to marry Louis, secure the company in his name, and then toy with Louis for a few months before divorcing him. It was a plan that satisfied his ambition and his desire for revenge.
Everything seemed to fall into place perfectly for Harry. After just a few months, he'd divorce Louis and the bondmark he would receive on the wedding day would still be weak and not fully healed. He planned to have it removed through a common but expensive procedure. Of course, the cost didn't concern Harry in the slightest.
In Harry's mind, the plan seemed flawless. Not only would he secure the company and indulge his desires with Louis, but his reputation would also undergo a significant improvement. After the divorce, he could easily manipulate the media by portraying himself as the victim, claiming that the omega had cheated on him. He anticipated receiving an outpouring of sympathy and support.
As for Louis's reputation, Harry couldn't care less. All that mattered to him was his own gain and satisfaction.
With his plan set in motion, Harry relished the prospect of playing with Louis, discarding him when he was no longer of use. It all seemed perfect to him—getting what he wanted while satisfying his desires.
As for his father, Harry couldn't help but feel a sense of superiority. Desmond's naivety worked to Harry's advantage, allowing him to manipulate the situation to his benefit without his father's interference.
"Alright, father. As you say," Harry agreed, a calculating gleam in his eye.
With a smirk, he picked up a black chess piece, making his final move. "Checkmate, I win," Harry declared triumphantly, standing up and exiting the study.
Desmond chuckled softly, a knowing smile playing on his lips. He was well aware of his son's intentions, but he also had plans of his own—arrangements that Harry wouldn't discover until it was too late.
"Did you, son?" Desmond mused, his laughter echoing in the room.
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Desmond knew his son inside out, understanding his motivations and the reasons behind his agreement. He was well aware of Harry's intentions and schemes. However, Desmond was far from foolish. He had his own insights and plans, ones that Harry would only discover when it was too late.
"Is it ready?" Desmond inquired, turning to the lawyer.
The lawyer nodded and handed him the legal papers.
Desmond sat in his office with the lawyer, Mark, and Louis. He observed Louis, noting the boy's nervous demeanor and the hint of tears in his eyes. Despite feeling a pang of guilt, Desmond pushed it aside. He reassured himself that he would take care of Louis—that everything would be alright.
"The legal documents stipulate that the wedding must proceed without exception," the lawyer explained, his tone professional and precise. "They explicitly state that no form of divorce or separation is permissible until two years have elapsed, at which point the bondmarks will be fully healed and significantly more challenging to remove."
Desmond nodded as he reviewed the papers. He understood that his son's immediate inclination would be towards divorce. That's precisely why he included this clause.
The bondmark received on the wedding day required a certain amount of time to heal. In the initial six months, it remained relatively weak and easily removable. By the first year, it strengthened, and by the second year, it was fully healed, making removal extremely difficult. During this time, the alpha and omega became deeply connected, and their wolves fully accepted each other, making divorce highly improbable.
Desmond couldn't outright ban divorce due to legal constraints, so he saw this clause as the best compromise. He intended to withhold this information from Harry until after Harry signed the papers on the wedding day. Aware of Harry's tendency to rush through things without careful consideration, Desmond planned to catch him off guard and secure his signature without Harry fully understanding the terms.
Desmond signed the papers and then passed them to Mark, who signed them apprehensively.
As Louis's trembling hands took the papers and the pens, Desmond observed the hesitation in his movements. Louis's pen hovered over the paper, but then he suddenly stopped.
Looking up at Desmond with trembling voice, Louis dared to ask, "What happens if he divorces me?"
Desmond chuckled softly. "You're aware that the likelihood of divorce after the marks are fully healed is less than 5%," he remarked.
Louis raised an eyebrow challengingly. "But what if we end up in that less than 5%?" he countered.
Desmond smiled, genuinely impressed by Louis's assertiveness. Despite his shy demeanor, the omega wasn't afraid to speak his mind, a trait Desmond found admirable.
Mark attempted to intervene, but Desmond waved him off. "Well then," Desmond continued, addressing Louis directly, "even in that rare scenario, you and your family will still be taken care of. If you sign those papers, your father will receive a few assets from us as a gift. So, even in the event of a divorce, you'll be financially secure for the rest of your life."
Louis nodded in satisfaction, signing the papers. As everyone stood up, Desmond shook Mark's hand and then embraced him warmly.
"From this day forward, consider yourself part of the family, Mark," Desmond assured him.
Turning to Louis, Desmond gently patted the head of the still apprehensive omega. "Don't worry, Louis. He's not as intimidating as he seems," Desmond reassured, offering a comforting smile.
Louis could only nod, still feeling overwhelmed by the situation.
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