I'm the scum-of-the-earth beta in an ABO novel, and my Omega husband, Julian, is the main character destined for a happy ending with someone else. My role is to despise him, to be incapable of helping him through his heats. Julian has to work to support my deadbeat ass, and without a partner's comfort, he's supposed to fall into the arms of his Alpha boss, sparking a forbidden, passionate affair. But the script has gone haywire. Instead of cheating, Julian is all over me, constantly seeking my scent like I'm his personal catnip. He seems completely devoted. He's even trying to trap me with a child. He clings to me, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears, his voice a desperate plea. "Honey, can I have a baby for you? Please? Just look at me... love me a little, please?" I was so freaked out I almost scheduled a vasectomy. Then, he swallowed a pill, forcing himself into a heat. His sweet, intoxicating scent flooded the air, wrapping around me like a silken cage of desire. "Fine," he whispered, his voice dangerously soft. "Then you can have my baby, darling. I'll love it just as much as I love you." 1 The rain outside was coming down in sheets, a relentless drumming against the windows. Then, the tell-tale click of the front door unlocking echoed from the entryway. I knew this was it. The first major plot point, where my husband, Julian, was supposed to start his affair with the main Alpha, Damian Sterling. This is an ABO novel. I died in my world, and when I opened my eyes, I was here, thrust into this story. And I’d been cast as the villain. The scum beta husband. A voice in my head promised me a chance at my old life if I just played my part and followed the script. So, I did. I went on a date with the main character, Julian, and I married him, just like I was supposed to. Shortly after the wedding, my startup spectacularly failed. The blow shattered my confidence, and I retreated into a world of video games, letting Julian work to support us while my temper frayed and my bitterness grew. My own insecurity made me lash out, finding fault in everything he did, despising him for my own failures. I’m a beta. I can’t satisfy an Omega’s needs, especially not during their heat. They say love conquers all, but reality was a chaotic mess of shattered dreams and mounting resentment. And that’s where the real hero, Damian Sterling, was supposed to come in. He was the one meant to rescue the wounded Julian, to finally give him the Alpha’s mark he deserved. Now, it was time for me, the scum husband, to deliver my lines. I slammed my controller down and swaggered out of my room, radiating arrogance. I didn't even bother to put on slippers. The entire apartment was carpeted in plush, soft material anyway. I reached the entryway just as Julian stepped inside. He froze when he saw me, his expression a mixture of surprise and a flicker of carefully hidden joy. Behind him stood Damian Sterling. He was the picture of an Alpha CEO—tall, impeccably dressed, with an air of quiet power and deep, piercing eyes. The story’s hero, no doubt. Julian’s beautiful eyes lit up. "Honey, you came to greet me?" I lifted my chin, my voice dripping with disdain. "Don't flatter yourself. Who's he?" As I sized up Sterling, he was doing the same to me, a glint of surprise in his eyes. I was wearing a black silk pajama set adorned with little cat figures. My body was lean, my skin pale from months spent indoors. I was handsome in a sharp, delicate way, my features conveying nothing but contempt and pride, though a small beauty mark at the corner of my eye hinted at a subtle, almost hidden allure. My bare feet, pale as marble, sank into the cream-colored carpet. Julian’s gaze darkened. He knelt, his touch gentle as he cupped my foot. "You're cold," he murmured, his voice laced with concern. "You should wear socks around the house, honey." He then looked up at his boss. "This is our company's new director, Damian Sterling. The rain was too heavy, and his car ran out of gas right after he dropped me off. He was hoping to stay the night. Mr. Sterling, this is my husband, Michael." 'Ran out of gas.' Right. What a laughably transparent excuse to get close to Julian. Couldn't he just call a cab? I pressed my foot down on the back of his hand, my voice sharp. "Stop fussing over me." Julian simply lowered his gaze, letting me pin his hand to the floor. His fingers curled slightly, brushing against the sole of my foot. A strange tingle shot up my leg, and I quickly pulled back before glaring at Sterling. "He can sleep in your room," I announced. "But he's not sleeping on my couch. And I'm hungry." See? I'm a great wingman. I'm practically pushing them into bed together. Before Julian could respond, Sterling spoke, his voice smooth and deep. "You two sleep in separate rooms?" Julian’s face tightened. I let out a cold laugh, leaning into my role as the world's worst husband. "I wouldn't be caught dead sleeping with him! Anyone who wants him can have him. It's not like we've ever even done anything!" You hear that, Sterling? He's all yours. Pure and untouched. I haven't laid a finger on him. Sterling raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised by the reality of Julian’s home life. Julian's face was pale, but he forced a smile as if he hadn't heard a word. "Honey, you're hungry, right? I brought home dinner. Your favorite—honey-glazed wings." I plopped onto the sofa with an air of condescending grace. On the coffee table were containers of my favorite takeout: honey-glazed wings and sweet and sour ribs. Finally, something good. Julian retrieved a pair of white cotton socks from his room and knelt before me, gently sliding them onto my feet. I didn't have the energy to argue. He was so damn stubborn. If I refused, he'd just get that wounded, teary-eyed look, and I couldn't handle that right now. From the moment I appeared, Julian had orbited me, soaking up every second of my presence. Even after putting on my socks, he lingered, watching me eat, his eyes filled with a tenderness so profound it was almost suffocating. He watched the way my cheeks puffed out as I chewed, and the adoration in his gaze was overwhelming. 2 Sterling's gaze was heavy as he watched us. "You two seem very close," he finally said. "What is it you do for a living, Mr. Michael?" After setting his sights on Julian, Sterling had obviously done his homework. He knew Julian's husband was a failed entrepreneur, a recluse living off his Omega's salary. His question was a deliberate jab, meant to twist the knife in my already wounded pride. He was jealous of the affection Julian showered on me. Fine. I'd give him the show he wanted. I masked my shame with bravado. "Hah! As if I'd chain myself to some dead-end desk job for a pathetic salary," I scoffed. "I just can't be bothered. Companies are practically begging me to work for them!" Julian’s eyes curved into crescents, shining with admiration. "That’s right! My husband is the most brilliant man I know!" Even when I acted like a complete loser, he looked at me like I was a god. It was as if no matter how far I fell, in his eyes, I would always be perfect. He was my most devoted believer. Sterling’s deep eyes remained fixed on me. "I'm sure," he said, his voice a low purr. "If a man like you were to step outside, you could probably earn more in a month than most people do in a lifetime." I was surprised. I hadn't expected Sterling to flatter me. "Hmph. Like I needed you to tell me that." Julian frowned slightly at Sterling’s tone and looked up. "Mr. Sterling, you must be tired. Please, feel free to get some rest. Your room is the one on the left. You'll find a new toothbrush and towels in the bathroom cabinet." A smirk played on Sterling’s lips, tinged with mockery. "Of course. Thank you for your hospitality." With that, he headed towards the bathroom. The air between them felt thick with unspoken tension. Sterling was clearly jealous. This was the perfect moment for Julian to go and smooth things over. I put on my meanest face. "God, stop hovering around me! You're so annoying. Just go away!" A shadow crossed Julian’s face, and he bit his lip. "Okay. I understand." That look again! I couldn't stand seeing him so hurt, so I quickly added, "And you have a guest. Don't you know how to be a good host? People will think we have no manners." Julian blinked, a look of sudden realization dawning on his face before it melted into a shy, pleased smile. "Right! You're right, I'll go check on him." I had no idea why that made him happy, but he was always strange like that. Heeding my words, Julian walked to the bathroom and knocked softly. I heard his voice, gentle and concerned. "Mr. Sterling? Did you find the towels? Do you need any help?" "I do." The door opened, and Julian slipped inside. The glass was frosted, but I could make out their silhouettes standing close together. They were murmuring something, their voices too low for me to hear. I imagined the scene from the novel playing out: Sterling: Julian, I need your help, too. Can that useless husband of yours truly satisfy you? He can't even get you through a heat, can he? Julian, flushed with shame and anger: Stop! Mr. Sterling, please, have some self-respect! As my imagination ran wild, a loud thud echoed from the bathroom, followed by a muffled groan. Were they really going at it that intensely already? My chopsticks nearly clattered to the floor. I quickly ducked my head and shoveled the rest of my food into my mouth before scurrying back to my room. My job was to be the blind, deaf husband. I wouldn't interrupt them for anything. 3 My room was a shrine to gaming—shelves overflowing with game cartridges and collector's edition figurines. All I had to do was mention I liked something, and Julian would somehow acquire it for me. I had countless limited-edition items, some of which were now priceless collector’s pieces. I had no idea how he got them. They were probably knockoffs. I played for a while before exhaustion claimed me and I crawled into bed. My dreams were filled with memories of meeting Julian, of the early days of our relationship. Back then, I wasn't forced to play the part of a cruel husband. I wasn't so horrible. The first time I saw him, I was genuinely captivated. He was slender and graceful, with skin like porcelain. His smile was like a ray of sunshine on a cold winter day, impossible to look away from. When he shyly introduced himself, my brain short-circuited. "You smell... amazing," I blurted out. In the world of ABO, saying that to an Omega was practically a proposition. He froze, a delicate pink blush creeping up his neck. I quickly stammered an apology, but thankfully, he didn't hold it against me. My worldview was fundamentally different from the people here. I believed love shouldn't be dictated by pheromones. That was no different from being a beast ruled by instinct. Pheromonal compatibility was a form of domestication. Love, true love, was a meeting of souls. Whenever I'd talk about these things, Julian would listen intently, his gaze fixed on my profile, his eyes deep and shining like a starry night. We didn't have the primal connection of pheromones. We talked for hours, about everything and nothing, dreaming of a future together. Julian was an orphan; he yearned for a family, for a place to belong. He was starved for affection, and a scumbag like me took advantage of that. I remember what he said to me on our wedding day. "I love you because my soul loves you. I want to spend my life with you, and I would give anything for that." He stood there in a white suit, his smile radiant, his clear eyes fixed on me, overflowing with hope and love. But I froze. A wave of panic washed over me, and an instinct I couldn't control screamed at me to run. How could I? How could I accept such a pure, profound love when my own heart was built on a foundation of deceit? But then the voice returned, whispering in my ear. [Your only purpose is to bring Julian and Damian Sterling together. That is how Julian will find true happiness. They are fated. If you deviate from the script, you will alter his destiny. Can you bear that consequence?] Alter it? To what? Something worse? No. I couldn't bear that. 4 I woke up to find my pillow damp. I sat up, rubbing my tired eyes, and heard a soft knock at my door. A glance at the clock showed it was 10:30 PM. I'd been asleep for less than an hour. The door creaked open after two gentle knocks. Julian stood in the doorway, clutching a pillow to his chest. His white pajamas were made of a light, soft fabric that draped elegantly over his frame—the matching set to mine. He bit his lip, his expressive eyes gazing at me, filled with an unspoken torrent of emotion. "Honey," he whispered, his voice trembling slightly. "Can I... can I sleep on the floor in here?" He looked so vulnerable, so pitiful. My resolve almost crumbled. I turned away, forcing a harsh tone. "No. Go back to your own room." His response was instantaneous. A single, perfect tear welled up and rolled down his cheek. His long lashes fluttered, framing eyes filled with a silent, heartbreaking sorrow. He said nothing, yet his gaze screamed everything. My defenses shattered. I flopped back onto the bed and pulled the covers over my head. "Fine, fine! Sleep here! I don't care," I grumbled, my voice muffled by the blanket. Under the covers, a thought struck me. It felt like he was doing this on purpose, like he knew that his tears were my kryptonite. Julian settled onto the carpet beside my bed. "Goodnight," he said softly. I didn't need to look to know his eyes were fixed on me, brimming with that infuriating, all-consuming love. Having already slept a little, I was now wide awake. I lay there for a good twenty minutes before sleep finally began to pull at me again. Just as I was drifting off, I heard a rustling sound from the floor, followed by a faint, breathy gasp. He seemed to be sitting up. Then, my blanket shifted. A hand was sliding under the covers. My eyes flew open. I whipped my head around to find him staring at me, his face flushed with a feverish blush. His gaze was raw, direct, and filled with a desperate, naked craving. His full lips were parted, releasing shallow, ragged pants that smelled faintly of orchids. "Honey," he breathed, his voice tight with restraint. "I feel... awful. Can you... can you help me, please?" He grabbed my wrist, his grip surprisingly strong. One look at him and I knew exactly what was happening. His heat. Of course. This was why the original script had him sleeping with Sterling tonight. This was the moment Sterling was meant to mark him. Julian had been on suppressants for so long, without a partner to soothe him, that his heats were short but unpredictable. He never knew when one would strike, so he always carried an emergency dose. "Your suppressants!" I hissed, frantically patting his pockets. "Where are they?" His body trembled at my touch. He caught my searching hand, guiding it slowly, deliberately downward. The heat radiating from him was intense. A jolt of electricity shot through me. His lashes fluttered, his eyes clouded with a drowsy, possessive affection. It was a purely innocent form of seduction. "I don't want suppressants," he whispered. "I only want you." I froze for a second before yanking my hand back as if I'd been burned. "I'll get them for you." I scrambled off the bed, but before I could take a step, his arms wrapped around me from behind. A hot tear splashed onto the nape of my neck. His plea was a broken, choked sob. "Honey, can I have a baby for you? Please? Look at me, just... love me a little? Please, love me... I'm begging you..." His voice was a fragile thread of raw desperation, so utterly humbled it broke my heart. He was willing to use a child to win back his husband's love. The heat of his tears scalded my skin. Gritting my teeth, I pushed him away. "Julian, don't you get it yet?" I said, my voice cold and cruel. "I don't love you anymore. Nothing you do will ever change that." I clenched my fists, forcing the words out, my mind already made up. I'd schedule the vasectomy tomorrow. I had to protect the story, to protect his happy ending, even if it meant destroying him—and myself—in the process. Julian’s eyelashes trembled. The light in his eyes flickered and died, leaving them empty. Tears streamed down his pale, shattered face. His fingers twitched, reaching for me for a brief, hopeful moment before retreating in fear.
? Continue the story here ?? ? Download the "MotoNovel" app ? search for "394088", and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel