GCT 2

Raised in an ordinary third-generation immigrant family, Yohan was quite robust even among typical men, befitting an FBI agent.

During his school days, he overcame stereotypes about Asians excelling in math and Betas lacking athletic talent, playing football. Unless he was meeting friends at a reunion, he didn’t talk much about those days, but as a wide receiver, he won several regional championships and earned a college scholarship.

Of course, in college, unlike high school, there were monstrous guys, and he couldn’t keep up with them. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t match the innate physical abilities of Alphas, so he eventually gave up.

Joining the military right after, Yohan was assigned to the Ranger Charlie Company and deployed. In the face of death, traits didn’t matter. Yohan chose a life where he could die any moment, rotating through about 20 three-month deployments, despite his family’s objections. After dropping out of college, Yohan didn’t have many options. After experiencing unforgettable events and returning home, he wandered for a bit before ending up where he was now.

He lived as if he’d been born alone and always lived alone, with no friends or family. Still, he thought things had turned out decently for someone who’d wandered, and four years ago, he even had a girlfriend. But shortly after his partner Diane’s death, she couldn’t understand Yohan’s job and eventually broke up with him. It was definitely an unusual profession.

Yohan thought that’s why the branch chief recommended this mission as perfect for him. Everyone avoided it, and since it was a den of evil, they’d sent someone like him with no family or close friends.

‘I should’ve known something was off when the famous Director Chantel Corey took an interest…’

Damn it. He knew something like this would happen someday. Yohan felt he was being punished for getting too caught up in his dealer role, forgetting his real job to make some money.

Still, how did things get this messed up? Yohan roughly wiped the man’s semen leaking between his legs with a tissue. If he were an Omega, he’d definitely be pregnant, he thought, glaring at the man’s face, who lacked any manners. In daylight, he looked even more handsome. Yohan thought this must be why people raved about dominant Alphas, idolizing them. There were indeed many dominant Alphas among cult leaders and male actors.

“Pisses me off…”

Muttering to himself, Yohan clamped his mouth shut and looked at the man. He worried he’d wake him, but thankfully, the man seemed deep in sleep.

‘Crazy bastard.’

Gritting his teeth against his battered body, Yohan rummaged through the man’s clothes. The first thing he grabbed was the man’s wallet.

Lear Crawford

Looking at the business card from the wallet, Yohan clicked his tongue, repeating the name. He also pocketed some cash. Honestly, considering the wages he missed out on because of this guy, it felt like too little. The guy had taken his first time, after all!

‘It’s compensation, you beast.’

Groaning, Yohan picked up the man’s scattered clothes from the floor. His uniform was unwearable, and the man’s clothes were the only decent option.

‘He even took his off neatly without tearing them.’

Touching them, Yohan could tell they were designer or custom-made. He didn’t know much about the world of the rich beyond reality shows, but he figured the clothes were worth more than his monthly salary. Repeating the man’s name in his head, he put them on. They didn’t fit perfectly due to the man’s large frame, but they weren’t bad. Luckily, the drugs neatly stashed in his own clothes’ pockets were intact. It didn’t improve his mood or body, though.

“Damn… Ugh.”

His aching body felt like it was dying. The muscles he’d built working out at home meant nothing.

“…Let’s go home.”

Every step felt like his body was twisting, his backside stinging and frayed. Thinking of the cash stuffed in his pocket, it really felt like the man had treated him like a gigolo. Come to think of it, the Russian and Latina women had stuffed a hundred bucks in his pocket, treating him the same way. He couldn’t pinpoint where things went wrong, but he’d been thoroughly misunderstood. It felt less like a simple server gig and more like an undercover prostitution dispatch.

‘Now that I think about it, one guy in the changing room was wearing perverted underwear… Damn it!’

Yohan decided he needed to track down Carlyle, who’d referred him to this job, and called an Uber to where he’d parked his junker car. With superhuman effort, he made it home.

If anyone had seen Yohan, they’d have mocked his pale, almost blue face, saying he’d gotten himself in trouble. Fortunately, no one did, but Yohan was sick for three straight days after. It was an unforgettable, intense experience. He never wanted to go through anything like it again.

He even dreamt of his partner Diane appearing, saying, “You’re so dumb, you don’t even catch colds.” Thinking back, he hadn’t been sick with a cold in ages, thanks to his robust health.

‘Times like this, I miss my family…’

He suddenly thought of his family, whose whereabouts he didn’t even know. A devout Christian household with a doctor brother and lawyer sister… and Yohan, the odd one out. He hadn’t legally changed the name his family gave him, but he was living under a government-issued name now.

‘Thomas Lee.’

When he got his new ID, Yohan thought the bland name didn’t suit his handsome face. Plus, as soon as he joined the organization undercover, he got the nickname ‘Kitty’ and was teased. Faces came to mind, calling him the cute ‘Hello Kitty’ rather than Tom from Tom and Jerry.

Now, he was gracious enough to prefer ‘Kitty’ over a name like Thomas, but when he first heard it, he nearly lost it holding back from putting holes in their heads.

‘Called Kitty, and now I feel like a gigolo with that name. Annoying.’

Not a call boy. To be mistaken for a gigolo by a crazed Alpha and go through something so absurd… Yohan thought it was something that’d never happen in his life.

‘Ten years from now, I’ll laugh it off as a funny story… Yeah, right.’

Yohan stopped the car and touched his backside. He felt something leaking but, thankfully, nothing was. The memory of sleeping with the man made him sigh deeply. He parked on the roadside, gripping the steering wheel, resting his forehead on it, about to sink into despair when a police siren sounded, and a car pulled up behind him. Already exhausted, Yohan wondered what now, forcing his aching body up to roll down the window.

“Yohan?”

“Kelita?”

“Long time no see.”

“You’re telling me.”

Kelita, in her LAPD uniform, was the same as ever. Yohan forced an awkward smile, meeting her dark eyes. Was it better that it was someone he knew?

Unlike Yohan’s wrecked state, Kelita, a second-generation LAPD officer, was his friend. More accurately, Diane’s friend. They’d bonded at Diane’s funeral, eating jambalaya at her house, tears streaming, connecting over working in similar fields.

They hadn’t met in a while due to work, so meeting in this situation was embarrassing.

“By the way, you okay?”

Kelita frowned deeply. She was an Alpha. Yohan, a Beta, didn’t notice, but as soon as he rolled down the window, she sensed a strong Alpha pheromone. She didn’t know who he’d been with, but the pheromones suggested an obsessive dominant Alpha. Shuddering, she looked at Yohan with concern.

“Just… feeling a bit under the weather.”

“Really? That’s all?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“Just… I can smell a ton of Alpha pheromones. I thought you said you don’t mess with Alphas.”

So he’d been blabbing about that. Yohan smiled awkwardly, embarrassed, and said,

“Haha. Yeah, well, life happens.”

“So… you’re okay?”

“Yeah. Don’t worry too much.”

Kelita nodded slightly, pulling a candy from her pocket and handing it to Yohan.

“Eat this. It’s got a pheromone-neutralizing effect.”

“Oh, thanks.”

“You’re a Beta, so you wouldn’t know, but carrying around pheromones like this isn’t great.”

“Didn’t realize since I can’t smell it.”

“Well, you’ll handle it, but… nothing else going on, right?”

“Thanks to you.”

“I’m off then.”

Yohan gave a small wave at Kelita’s words. Before eating the candy, he lifted his arm to sniff. It was strange that she could smell something he couldn’t.

‘Alphas, huh.’

It was still a world Yohan didn’t understand. Of course, discovering a perverse streak or new sexual preferences from sleeping with an Alpha was quite positive. He’d never known he enjoyed rough sex, being helplessly dominated.

“I’m a crazy bastard too.”

Yohan punched the steering wheel, wincing as pain shot through his waist, tears welling up. Frustrated at his string of stupid actions, he ruffled his hair, sighed deeply, and started driving again. His body felt worse by the minute. Still, he forced himself to buy ointment, got home, showered, and collapsed into bed.

He must’ve passed out, not just fallen asleep, because when he woke, it was pitch dark. Yohan groaned, his body heavier than before.

“Ugh…”

Forcing himself up, drenched in cold sweat, he drank water, returned to his spot, and grabbed the ointment. He was too embarrassed to go to the hospital in this state.

“Hng…”

Yohan squeezed a generous amount of ointment onto his finger, applying it to his swollen hole. Compared to the man’s brutal size, his finger was nothing.

“Ugh… Hng…!”

What kind of ordeal was this? Yohan inserted the ointment-covered finger, gently rubbing the inner walls. Each time, his hips tensed, and the stinging pain brought tears.

Damn bastard. Son of a bitch. Every curse from single-celled organisms to mammals poured from his mouth. Going to sell drugs to the rich and ending up selling his body… Yohan wanted to run to the branch and quit, but he couldn’t. Too much work and unresolved issues remained. As an adult, he had to do things he didn’t want to, so he comforted himself, applying ointment to his wrecked insides.

“Ugh…”

Still, did he have to go through this? It was his first time with a man, enduring hardcore sex with unbearable knotting—no choice there. If he were an Omega, he’d have had to rush to the hospital for emergency contraception. At least that didn’t happen, so maybe that was a relief.

“Ha…”

The more he thought, the more he could only curse the man. Even in rut, to have sex so recklessly and unload inside—his kids probably weren’t few. Being rich, he’d probably shrug off child support. Whatever, it pissed Yohan off. The man’s face filled his mind.

“Damn bastard.”

Not a nursery rhyme, but the same curse slipped out again.

“Son of a bitch…”

Handsome, and that’s it?

Damn it, maybe he was everything.

“Fuck, too embarrassed to tell anyone.”

Still… shitty things were shitty.

‘It was dirty, and let’s never meet again.’

Cursing the man, hoping he wouldn’t sue, Yohan succumbed to heavy eyelids, passing out again. He dreamt of Lear Crawford, whom he never wanted to see again. He probably cursed like crazy in his sleep.

Three days. In three days, he could’ve sold drugs and easily made a thousand bucks. Instead, he was holed up at home, sleeping. He hadn’t even done his real job, practically stealing his salary.

“Getting messed up by a crazy bastard—what the hell is this?”

Muttering to himself, Yohan shuddered at his unfamiliar, hoarse voice.

The more he thought, the crazier the guy was in every sense. A dick the size of an arm wasn’t enough—his personality, manners, and sex drove people insane. No condom, knotting, and unloading inside. Yohan couldn’t clearly recall what happened in the haze of pain and pleasure, but the worst part was losing his favorite pink Hawaiian shirt with vibrant palm trees.

“My favorite shirt…”

He should’ve known something was off when they only gave the party’s location and time. He’d jumped at the chance to deal with high-status people, a mistake.

‘It wasn’t a normal serving gig.’

Well, Yohan wasn’t there for a normal serving gig either, but still… He couldn’t ask Carlyle about the agency’s name. If Carlyle caught on, Yohan’s nickname might shift from Hello Kitty to Sexy Kitty, and absurd rumors could spread, causing trouble. He couldn’t go back to Lear’s house where the makeshift changing room was either.

“Fuck.”

Losing a precious shirt because of a handsome, fit, tall, rich Alpha. Yohan grimaced, picking up Lear’s carelessly tossed clothes. Too nice to throw out, he’d mend and wear them. He pulled out the crumpled business card from inside.

After the ordeal, Yohan abstained from sex to respect his lower body. Or rather, he didn’t want to. To become this ascetic… He wondered if he’d been traumatized. That absurd encounter must’ve killed his libido.

“Maybe I should change jobs.”

Early evening, sipping a martini at a bar in a restaurant near South Springs, he muttered to himself. The place, a brunch café by day, had a chic vibe. Yohan felt awkward sitting alone here. Living in Compton, he’d grown unaccustomed to Instagram-worthy places.

“What’s that mean?”

It was Aisha Patton, one of Yohan’s FBI colleagues. A so-called computer genius, he’d arranged to meet her somewhere Vasquez guys wouldn’t go. Yohan jumped at her sudden appearance.

“Shit! Are you crazy?”

“Overreacting much?”

Aisha sat, giving Yohan a pitying look.

“By the way… why’re you so late?”

“Helping Marisol. Only five minutes late, and you’re this harsh? I came straight from work.”

“Do I look like I’ve got free time?”

Aisha scoffed at Yohan’s whining.

“Anyway, Kitty, you’ll get wrinkles with that temper. Aren’t you old enough for that?”

“Wanna die? And I told you not to call me Kitty.”

“You let those guys call you that.”

“I tolerate it. I want to shoot their dumb heads more than once.”

Yohan grumbled, saying he wanted to wash his ears every time he heard ‘Kitty.’ Aisha listened with one ear, letting it go out the other. She’d keep calling him Kitty.

“Anyway, why’d you want to meet here?”

“No big deal, just something I need you to look into.”

Yohan pulled Lear’s business card from his pocket and handed it to Aisha. She complained that it was bad enough he ran around in Hawaiian shirts, so why drag her into useless favors. But Yohan ignored her, pointing at her laptop, urging her on.

“Ask your boyfriend.”

“Wanna die?”

Frowning, Aisha took the crumpled card from Yohan.

“Lear… Crawford…?”

“Yeah, our genius reads well.”

“Maybe it’s just me, but… why’s this name familiar?”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Why do you want me to look into this guy?”

“Just some business.”

“Do I look like I’ve got time to help with your personal stuff?”

“Yeah.”

“Buy dinner.”

“Obviously. I’ve got a conscience.”

“Sure you do.”

Just some business? Aisha knew better than anyone that Yohan, undercover for months, wouldn’t ask for this without reason. So, she teased him but planned to help.

“Hurry up.”

Yohan didn’t care what Aisha thought—he just wanted to know about Lear. Tapping her laptop, he urged her to look into Lear Crawford.

“Don’t rush me. Let’s order drinks.”

Annoyed, Aisha deliberately ordered food and drinks. Then she started working. Yohan watched anxiously, sipping liquor that felt stronger today.

“Anything?”

As Yohan sat beside Aisha, staring at her laptop, info on Lear Crawford popped up.

“Son of a bitch…”

Yohan’s sudden curse made Aisha ask who this guy was to spark such a reaction.

“Why so heated? Bad blood?”

“Look at his license photo. How does a photo come out that good? Mine looks like a mugshot!”

Aisha looked at Yohan incredulously, then at Lear’s photo. He was undeniably handsome. The sharp-featured man was so sexy, even his photo radiated heat. His eyes were purple, like Elizabeth Taylor. Aisha whistled.

“Definitely impressive in many ways. Look at his height. Totally my type.”

Aisha’s findings on Lear Crawford were as dazzling as his looks. At thirty-three, he entered Caltech at fifteen, took a leave at eighteen, and dropped out at the age most start college.

His surname came from his mother’s side; his father was Patrick Crawford, a famous Hollywood producer who’d won an Emmy and awards as a successful Omega leader. His grandmother was renowned actress Laura Crawford. Born with at least a silver spoon, and only thirty-three.

Yohan shuddered, recalling the arrogant moves of a guy two years younger. Unaware of his feelings, Aisha praised Lear like a fan.

“Looks like he got his handsome genes from his mother’s side. Seems he took his grandmother’s surname… Their eyes are so similar.”

“Nothing else?”

“Notably, his birth certificate doesn’t list his Alpha father.”

“Huh, whatever… He’s a college dropout like me. Same breed, after all.”

Aisha burst out laughing, mocking Yohan.

“Right. But Crawford’s a billionaire. Someone else is a public servant. Wow, so much in common, huh?”

Yohan responded with displeasure at Aisha’s words. Privileged jerk… Anyway, the guy was annoying from head to toe.

“There’s got to be something wrong with him.”

He’d confirmed the guy’s sexual function firsthand… but judging by his awful bedside manners, he probably had a bunch of kids.

“Fine, let’s see if you’re right.”

Aisha tapped away at her keyboard again. Sighing that nothing interesting came up, she gulped down her freshly served drink.

“What’s with this guy? Why’s he so perfect?”

“Perfect, my ass… He’s a total dog in bed.”

“How would you know?”

Yohan panicked at his slip of the tongue and said,

“Uh, I mean, he just seems like it. Silver hair, purple eyes—total psycho vibes.”

“Don’t go saying that anywhere. You’ll get sued.”

Luckily, Aisha didn’t seem to suspect Yohan had slept with Lear. Since Yohan was heterosexual and a Beta, the world’s bias that it’d be tough for a non-Omega to sleep with an Alpha let him brush off the mistake.

“Hmm, whatever, he’s definitely filthy rich. Made billions at nineteen with a program, and every investment he’s made has been a hit. He’ll never want for anything.”

With a brain smart enough to enter Caltech at fifteen, he was definitely a genius, and with disgustingly good luck, his investments paid off big. He held major shares in a management company with well-known artists and a film company. He was also a major shareholder in other recognizable companies. Born with a silver spoon, he’d grown into a diamond spoon—a monstrous man who could be called a thirty-something Warren Buffett. Oddly, he wasn’t that famous, though.

“Huh, really. Then check who owns that house in Calabasas.”

“Address.”

Yohan gave Aisha the address of the Calabasas house where the Amazon party was held. After a few keystrokes, she pulled up the property deed and said,

“It’s registered to Luke Meizel.”

“Luke Meizel? Who’s that?”

“Want me to look into it?”

“Nah, forget it. It’ll just piss me off.”

Given Lear’s behavior, he seemed like the homeowner, but maybe not? Yohan rubbed his chin, lost in thought. Aisha, curious, asked,

“Why this house, anyway?”

“Oh… just wondering. Heard there was a huge party there recently.”

“Well, in that neighborhood, parties are probably a competition.”

Yohan frowned at Aisha’s words. That must be why the party was packed with famous people. Plus, there were those models offering him a hundred bucks for a threesome.

“Anyway, Lear Crawford’s money flow is squeaky clean, he’s insanely rich, and honestly, a great guy. No girlfriend, maybe? He’s exactly my age.”

“Aisha, wake up. Think about it. A thirty-three-year-old handsome guy who’s achieved everything? You think that makes sense? He’s definitely shady.”

“You’re seeing the world too cynically. Isn’t that an occupational hazard?”

At Aisha’s words, Yohan shook his head, insisting his gut was never wrong. He stared intensely at Lear’s photo, blown up on the laptop screen. Feeling increasingly irritated, Yohan downed his harsh liquor. His insides burned, and his temper flared.

‘This guy’s definitely hiding something…’

He didn’t know what, but a bad feeling crept up that he’d soon be deeply entangled with the annoying Lear Crawford. It wasn’t just talk—his instincts had never been wrong.