THE ALPHA’S REGRET

“I can smell it from here!”

“How did she not notice?”

Leslie’s hand flew to the back of her head. Her fingers touched something wet. Sticky. When she pulled them away, they were brown.

No.

No no no no no.

The cameras flashed brighter. Faster. People were pulling out phones now, recording. She could see the red lights. The sneers. The disgust.

“Tony.” Her voice came out as a choke. She turned toward him. “Tony, please.”

He was already standing beside her, posing for the photographers. His jaw was tight. His smile was frozen in place.

“Tony, please.”

“Smile,” he hissed under his breath. His lips barely moved. “Don’t make a scene.”

“But I, there’s something.”

“I said smile.”

A woman in a glittering gold dress stepped closer, her perfume suffocating. “Oh honey,” she cooed, loud enough for everyone to hear. “Did you fall into a toilet before coming here?”

The crowd roared with laughter.

Leslie felt her face burning. “I don’t, I don’t know what happened.”

“Clearly.” The woman wrinkled her nose dramatically. “The smell is absolutely rancid.”

More laughter. It bounced off the walls, off the cameras, off Leslie’s skull.

She looked at Tony desperately. “Please, can we just.”

“Are you serious right now?” He turned to face her fully. His eyes were ice. “Do you have any idea how you look?”

“I didn’t.”

“You didn’t think. As usual.” His voice was sharp. Cutting. “Do you know who’s watching right now? Investors. Board members. People whose opinions actually matter.”

“Tony, I swear I don’t know how this.”

“Of course you don’t know.” He stepped back from her like she was diseased. “Because you’re careless. Clueless. Do you think I wanted to bring you here looking like this?”

The cameras kept flashing.

Someone shouted, “Tony! Tony, is this your wife?”

“Unfortunately,” Tony muttered.

Leslie felt something crack inside her chest.

A man in a suit, older, silver hair, stepped forward with a handkerchief pressed to his nose. “Miss, perhaps you should step aside. Before the smell gets worse.”

“Yes, please,” a younger woman added, fanning herself. “Some of us are trying to breathe here.”

The laughter was deafening now.

Leslie tried to speak but nothing came out. Her throat was closing. Her eyes were burning.

She looked at Tony one more time.

He wasn’t even looking at her anymore. He’d turned back to the cameras, that perfect smile plastered on his face again.

“Go home, Leslie, the Northern Territory Alphas are watching.” he said quietly. Coldly. “And don’t come out until you figure out how not to embarrass me.”

Someone whistled.

Someone else laughed.

Leslie stumbled backward. The cameras followed her. The phones followed her. The laughter followed her.

She turned and ran.

Her heels clicked frantically against the red carpet. She could hear them behind her, the whispers, the giggles, the cruel voices.

“Did you see her face?”

“Poor thing didn’t even know!”

“How does someone not notice dog shit in their hair?”

“Maybe she’s used to it.”

Leslie shoved through the crowd, past the security guards, past the velvet ropes. She didn’t stop until she was in the parking lot, gasping for air, her whole body shaking.

She looked down at her hands. They were still covered in it.

The dress, the beautiful, expensive dress Tony had bought her, was ruined.

Everything was ruined.

She wanted to scream. To cry. To disappear.

Instead, she just stood there in the dark parking lot, alone, while inside the gala continued without her.

The laughter still echoed in her ears.

-----

*Inside, near the champagne fountain, a woman in a crimson dress watched Leslie’s retreat through the glass doors.*

*Her lips curved into a smile.*

*She lifted her phone and typed a message.*

*Then she set it down, picked up her champagne, and waited.*