The Beta's Slutty Mate

8| Vulnerable Insecurities

Chapter 8| Vulnerable Insecurities

Dylan's POV:

"I have a sugar wizard."

Hearing that, my jaw dropped on the ground, my eyes widening. My wolf growled loudly in my head, chanting one word repeatedly, 'Kill. Kill. Kill.' For a minute, I'm certain I looked like a fish with my eyes flashing, opening and closing my mouth, unable to form sentences before I finally spoke, "A what?"

"A sugar wizard. You know, like a sugar daddy," She grinned at me. Her excitement was so contagious that I wanted to smile with her at this seemingly hilarious joke. I looked into her eyes for any sort of lie, or any hint proving that she was just messing with me, but when I found none, my anger intensified.

"They still exist? How does that even work?" I ran a hand through my already disheveled hair, counting to ten internally to keep calm. I had to prevent myself from lashing out by tugging my hair with force, and gritting my teeth. 

The concept of sugar wizards was banned and frowned upon throughout the mystical world, but well, Amelia was Amelia.

"I'll show you. I just need your phone," She suggested, and I took out my phone from my shirt pocket, handing it to her, my face still a mixture of confusion and anger. I so badly wanted to slap myself once I realized what I had done. 

If anything, I gave my phone to her out of impulse and curiosity that overruled my anger.

Amelia opened the camera application, and angled her body so that the sun shone on her front body. She put one hand in her shirt and fondled her breast, the crease on the shirt made the action more evident. Then, she put pressure on her neck so that her bones were emphasized, biting the right side of her lip to produce a 'come and get me' look. Angling the camera so that her eyes and forehead weren't showing, she snapped a picture.

With a satisfied look on her face, she went to the messaging app, typed in a number, and sent the picture to it. Not even a minute had passed when a reply came, "You look hot, baby. I've added 800$ to your account."

She handed the phone back to me, shrugging when I looked from the phone and back to her. 

"You like doing this?" I asked, and Amelia shrugged again.

"I get paid," She stated nonchalantly.

"Have you seen his face?" I asked, and Amelia shook her head 'no.'

"He could be an old man or a serial killer!" I yelled, but sighed when I realized I was crossing a line.

"If you like doing this, then I have no right to stop you. It's your body and only you have authority over it. I would, however, like you to know that all of my money belongs to you, too, so even if you spend it till I get bankrupt, I wouldn't mind."

Amelia's POV:

Like every other slut, I wanted to drool at his words and jump at the opportunity, but when a picture of Dylan begging on the streets wearing ragged clothes came in my mind, I felt a tad bit remorse, even though I didn't show it, and said, "Nah, I'm good."

Dylan nodded once and averted his face. "Can you watch the spaghetti for a minute? I need to go to the restroom," He said, and I nodded. He walked in a fast pace, but I didn't miss the sob that escaped his mouth.

A part of me wanted to confront him but a part of me wanted to just let it be, knowing that I'm the reason he was hurting and that if I tried to fix it, I will end up worsening the situation.

A sigh escaped my lips and I turned the stove off before walking to the direction I saw him go. I opened the door that I believe led to his room and heard soft sobs that were coming from his bathroom.