Chapter 115: ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTEEN

Adrian’s POV

I looked at him, then past him toward the hallway behind us.

My mind moved quickly. I had seen the codes being used earlier and I also knew the assistant had used one to get inside. I had no idea which one belonged to me, but I couldn’t stand there looking confused for too long. "Blue," I answered.

The guard studied me for a few seconds before stepping aside. "Blue section. Second corridor on the left."

I nodded and walked away without looking back.

I had no idea whether blue was the right answer, and I wasn’t about to stop and ask questions. I followed the direction he’d given me, moving through another corridor where the noise from the club became quieter.

The music was still audible, but the walls seemed thicker here, almost as though this part of the building had been designed to keep whatever happened inside from reaching the main club.

What was going on in here?

I reached the second corridor and stopped outside the first door.

There was noise coming from inside and I hesitated before opening it.

What I saw made me immediately look away.

Oh shit.

Naked bodies writhing together in the throes of sex. About five women were lumped together, bodies glistening with sweat as they moaned desperately, their pussies stretching to accommodate the cocks being shoved into them one at a time.

It was an orgy.

Oh shit.

I remained rooted to the spot, watching one of the men pound into a woman’s ass from behind, leaning down to press his chest to her back as he gripped her swaying breasts under her.

If they noticed me, they didn’t seem to care.

My jaw instantly tightened. I wasn’t supposed to be here.

I backed out of the room and shut the door behind me, my jaw clenched as I stood in the corridor. I didn’t need to see anything else.

There were things happening here that my father could never explain away as an innocent business.

I turned around and retraced my steps.

The moment I reached the restaurant entrance, I could finally breathe again. People were eating, waiters were moving between tables, and nobody sitting there had any idea what was operating behind the walls.

I returned to our table and took my seat.

Nicholas immediately looked at me. "What took you so long?"

I picked up my glass and took a drink before answering. "The restroom."

Roman raised an eyebrow. "For that long?"

"I had to wait." I shrugged.

"Wait for what?"

I gave him a look. "Can we just eat?"

He shrugged and went back to his food.

Nicholas continued looking at me for a few seconds, but eventually he returned to his meal. I kept my expression neutral while I tried to push down everything I’d just seen.

I hadn’t expected this.

I had gone into that restaurant thinking I’d accidentally discovered one of my father’s secrets, but I hadn’t imagined anything like this.

What more had my father been hiding?

I didn’t tell the others.

Not yet.

We finished eating not long afterward. Roman handled his share of the bill while Cassian and Elijah checked theirs, and eventually I settled the remaining amount. Once we stepped outside, I paused beside the car and glanced back at the restaurant.

The entrance to the hidden club was somewhere behind those walls.

Nobody passing on the street would ever guess.

There wasn’t music spilling outside. There were no signs, no suspicious entrances, nothing that would make an ordinary person stop and wonder what was happening inside.

The walls were soundproof enough that the club could be filled with people and noise while the restaurant remained completely normal.

I got into the car and I didn’t say anything.

Our next stop took us farther across the city, to another workplace listed in the records we’d found.

The building was older than the previous ones, and the owner himself came to meet us after I explained who we were looking for.

The man was elderly, moving slowly with a cane as he approached the entrance. "That’s the person you’re looking for?"

I nodded. "Yes. He worked here years ago."

The man’s eyes narrowed as though he were searching his memory. Then his expression changed. "That Omega?"

I immediately sat straighter. "You remember him?"

The old man gave a short laugh. "Of course I remember him. How could I forget?"

I looked at him carefully. "What do you remember about him?"

The man leaned against the doorframe. "He was always getting himself into trouble."

"Trouble how?"

"He couldn’t keep his mouth shut whenever someone mistreated an Omega." The man shook his head. "Didn’t matter who the customer was. If an Alpha came into my shop and started insulting an Omega employee or customer, your father would interfere."

I glanced at Nicholas and I saw that he was listening carefully.

"Was he employed here?" I asked.

"Yes. For a while." The old man smiled faintly. "But employment was never really his problem. He thought every argument was his responsibility."

Nicholas frowned. "Did people treat him badly because of that?"

The man’s smile disappeared. "They did more than treat him badly." He looked toward the street before continuing. "He would walk into places where he wasn’t wanted because he saw someone being humiliated and couldn’t leave it alone. There were times I had to pull him away myself."

"Why?" I asked.

"Because he didn’t understand when to stop." The man looked directly at Nicholas. "He would stand up for Omegas even when there were ten Alphas standing on the other side. He didn’t care if he was outnumbered."

I watched Nicholas’s expression change. "And his wife?" he asked. "Did you know her? My mother."

The old man’s eyebrows lifted."Ah, you’re his son. Your mother? Yes. I knew her."

Nicholas leaned forward slightly. "How?"

The man sighed. "She came here with him more than once."

I asked, "What happened?"

The man was quiet for a moment before answering. "They were both humiliated because of him."

Nicholas’s face tightened. "What do you mean?"

"Your father kept trespassing." The man shrugged.

"Trespassing where?"

"Into places where he had no business being." The man shook his head. "He’d hear about an Omega being mistreated somewhere, he’d go there, confront whoever was responsible, and make a scene. Sometimes he was right. Most times, he was right about the injustice, at least. But that didn’t mean he could keep walking into other people’s businesses and demanding they change."

Nicholas remained silent.

The old man continued, "There was one particular place where he kept returning. The owner eventually became furious. Your father had already caused problems with several clients, and when he came back again, the owner told him to leave."

"Did my father refuse?" Nicholas asked.

"Of course he did."

Despite everything, the old man almost smiled. "He stood there arguing that the owner was allowing discrimination. The owner told him that he wasn’t interested in politics and that he had a business to protect. Your father wouldn’t listen."

"And then?"

"I had to choose." The man’s voice became quieter. "I could either let your father continue coming back and risk losing my own customers, or I could tell him not to come here anymore."

Nicholas swallowed. "You sent him away."

"Yes." The man looked genuinely regretful. "I didn’t want to. But I had employees depending on me. I had a family. I couldn’t afford to lose the business."

Nicholas nodded slowly. "I understand."

The old man looked at him for a long moment. "You sound just like him."

Nicholas blinked. "What?"

"That way of answering." The man smiled faintly. "He used to say the same thing whenever someone explained why they couldn’t help him. He’d say he understood, then he’d go somewhere else and start the same fight all over again."

That earned a small laugh from Nicholas. "I suppose so."

I thanked the man for his time and asked if he knew where my father’s civil rights company had been located.

The old man pointed down the street. "That place was farther from here. If it’s the same building, you should be able to find it."

"Do you know what happened to it?" I asked.

He looked thoughtful. "I heard it closed."

"Do you know why?"

The man shook his head. "No. By then, I had stopped seeing your father. But I remember hearing that the company had caused quite a stir before it disappeared."

Nicholas looked at me. "That’s the last place."

I nodded. "Yes."

We thanked the man again and walked back toward the car.

Finally. The last place of the day.