William

Omega vanished as quickly as if he'd never been there. He left a bundle containing the baby on the office threshold and fled without even a backward glance. William stood in the middle of the room, staring at the child as if he were a ticking timer.

"Are you serious?" he asked quietly at the empty corridor.

The child didn't answer. He opened his mouth and let out such a piercing scream that William's ears popped.

Alpha grimaced as if acid had been splashed in his face. He didn't know what to do. He'd never held children. Never wanted them. His world consisted of gunshots, money, and absolute control. And now he had a small, red-faced bundle screaming in his arms, demanding attention.

“Shut up,” William barked, but the baby started screaming even louder.

William threw his tie on the chair and began pacing the office. The child was screaming. Alpha clenched his fists so hard his knuckles turned white. He wanted to howl from frustration. He was used to solving everything with force, money, or threats—but against a baby, it didn't work.

"Your father is an idiot," William growled, looking at the reddened face. "And you are a small, disgusting, screaming piece of..."

He didn't finish. The child suddenly went quiet as William instinctively pulled him to his chest. Alpha froze. Carefully, as if holding a fragile vase, he rocked the baby in his arms. The screams turned to sobs, and then died down completely.

William exhaled, feeling sweat trickle down his back. He looked at the child. He was snoring, clinging to his coat, and looked so vulnerable that something inside the alpha twitched.

"I hate this situation," he said quietly. "I hate you. And I hate him for running away."

But he didn't let go of the child. And when the baby began to whine again, William, gritting his teeth, began to rock him. Clumsily, angrily, but carefully.

He didn't want to be a father. But this little tyrant had him by the throat.