The Fallen Film Queen’s Possessive Alpha (GL, ABO) - Chapter 1

It hurt.

Song Haoyin curled up, instinctively covering the gland on the back of her neck. Since her differentiation during adolescence, she had always been careful during her sensitive periods, and her gland had never ached like this before.

Lying on the king-sized bed, Song Haoyin did not enjoy a restful sleep. Tossing and turning, she kept slipping into dreams amid the pain. There was a tall, faceless young woman who first said something, then leaned down, approaching the back of Song Haoyin’s neck.

The young female Alpha bit through Song Haoyin’s gland, pinning her to the bed as she greedily drank in her pheromones. The scent of cognac and elderflower filled the room, the complex richness of alcohol entwining with the warm, soft musk, dragging Song Haoyin again and again into a delirious haze.

Slowly, relentlessly, that woman coaxed Song Haoyin into blooming like an alluring flower, unfolding endlessly in her hands. The woman released her pheromones at will, making Song Haoyin surrender completely, forgetting all her troubles.

Ring!

Soft sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows onto the bed. Startled awake, Song Haoyin realized the vast room held only herself, wrapped in the thick, intoxicating fragrance. Glancing around, she couldn’t find her clothes but spotted a neatly folded robe on the bench at the foot of the bed.

The phone beside the bed was still ringing. With no other choice, Song Haoyin wrapped herself in the thin blanket and shuffled over to answer it.

“Good morning, Miss Song. This is Xu Su, your suite butler. Before leaving, Miss Zhou asked us to prepare lunch for you in the room. Would you like to confirm the lunchtime now?”

Miss Zhou—was she the woman from last night?

Wisely, Song Haoyin didn’t ask further, only requesting the caller to wait. The clock on the landline showed it was 11 AM on Thursday. Clutching the receiver, she moved to the foot of the bed and found her phone and a note tucked beneath the robe. The note, written in a concise cursive script that unexpectedly appealed to her, read:

[Returning next week. Ask the suite butler for clothes. Call if needed.]

A string of numbers followed, along with the writer’s name: Zhou Qiwei.

The name sounded familiar, but she couldn’t place it at the moment. Song Haoyin set the note back on the bench and replied to the caller, “Send the meal in half an hour, and bring my clothes too.” After hanging up, she picked up her phone and held her breath as she scanned the flood of unread messages.

No calls from the hospital her sister was fine. Good news.

No calls from the studio no debt collectors last night. Good news.

A text from her former agent persistent as a ghost. Bad news.

An email from the auction house her collection had finished appraisal and was ready for sale. Good news.

No calls from the police neutral.

Leaving her phone untouched all night hadn’t made things better, but at least they hadn’t gotten worse.

Her mood lightened slightly. Wrapped in the robe, Song Haoyin stepped barefoot onto the carpet, the soft texture underfoot familiar. The intricate patterns before her eyes, the infinity pool outside the window, and the seamless horizon where sky met sea were all glaring reminders she was in the presidential suite atop the Caesar Hotel.

This hotel boasts over a hundred suites, yet only the presidential suite on the top floor commands such breathtaking views, proudly advertising 270-degree panoramic vistas of the bay’s most beautiful scenery. This exclusive suite also features entirely handcrafted Kashmiri wool carpets throughout, with the antique piece beside the bed being particularly noteworthy.

A year ago, Song Haoyin had vacationed here with her family. The same suite manager, Ms. Xu Su, who had just called had given her a detailed introduction back then.

Time had passed, leaving only sighs in its wake. Cutting short her reminiscence, Song Haoyin dragged her body, still aching from the “intense activity,” toward the bathroom, enduring the muscle strain and the soreness in her lower abdomen. No matter what had happened or what was about to happen,she always made sure to present herself with dignity.

The stinging pain in the gland at the back of her neck gradually subsided. Song Haoyin wasn’t worried; this was merely a mild adverse reaction caused by insufficient pheromone fusion after an Omega’s first marking, when the Alpha failed to provide sustained pheromones. As detailed in the Omega Health Handbook, the discomfort from pheromone deficiency would ease within 12 hours post-marking before disappearing entirely.

Typically, after the first marking, the Alpha is responsible for continuously supplying pheromones for several hours to prevent such reactions. But given the unexpected circumstances, she couldn’t demand much especially considering.

Song Haoyin stared at her phone screen, which was filled with the “illustrious exploits” of a certain Ms. Zhou Qiwei:

Imprisoning an Omega in heat while refusing necessary aid, ignoring summons from the Omega Protection Association for explanations, and when investigated being linked to multiple Omegas under “confidentiality agreements,” among other things.

Online discussions about the matter were rife with insinuations”you know how it is,” “the one who shall not be named”elevating Ms. Zhou’s notoriety to urban legend status.

Song Haoyin drew two conclusions:

First, this Ms. Zhou had powerful backing, enough to support her arrogance and possibly even keep her “above the law.”

Second, she was young, unrestrained, and the list of those who had signed NDAs with her included figures from the entertainment industry.

This, at least, gave Song Haoyin some relief. Given how many stunning, refined individuals Ms. Zhou had been with, she likely wasn’t anything special. This could all end here.

She could guess why she had suddenly gone into heat at last night’s banquet, but she lacked the energy to dig deeper. She’d simply been careless, standing too close to danger. She really, truly didn’t want any further complications.

The hot water eased some of her exhaustion. Studying her reflection in the full-length mirror, she noticed red marks around her ankles where she’d been gripped. The water cascaded over her fair skin as her fingers trailed downward, revealing love bites even teeth marks along her thighs.

How ruthlessly thorough.

Stepping out of the water, Song Haoyin faced the mirror. The woman staring back had a voluptuous figure but a haggard expression. Her pale skin was dotted with red marks, her damp hair clung to her shoulders, her bloodshot eyes were rimmed with pink, and her lips had lost their usual softness as if she might burst into tears at any moment.

A fragility that evoked an overwhelming urge to destroy. Something so delicate yet alluring, willingly delivered to one’s doorstep no one would choose to reject such a temptress.

Song Haoyin assessed this with a professional actor’s eye.

She’d never imagined she could appear like this. If she went begging to those people in this state, perhaps she might receive some pity. Song Haoyin tried to force a smile, but her lips only twisted into a sneer whether mocking her reflection or those waiting for her surrender, she couldn’t tell.

The doorbell rang the suite butler had arrived.

Xu Su had served as head butler for over three years, catering to guests who were either wealthy or powerful, with all manner of eccentricities parading before her. Despite her impeccable professionalism, facing so many peculiar elites inevitably led to some private judgments.

After encountering countless so-called celebrities, any illusions about them had long since shattered. Yet for today’s departing guest, Xu Su found herself exercising unusual caution.

The former actress now labeled as “washed-up” in entertainment news, Miss Song Haoyin, was drowning in scandals,her studio reportedly nearing bankruptcy with lawsuits looming. When “that person” brought her here last night, Xu Su could guess what transpired. Yet now, Miss Song appeared in formal attire with flawless makeup, radiating vitality as if about to accept an award.

Their gazes met as Song approached, and in that fleeting moment, Xu Su felt an electric jolt.

Truly “this generation’s most captivating Omega.”

“Thank you for your service.” Song Haoyin straightened her back in high heels, maintaining a perfect smile. “Maintaining such high standards consistently is remarkable, Miss Xu.”

“You’re too kind, Miss Song.” Xu Su presented the hotel’s parting gift with both hands, bowing slightly. “It’s my honor to serve you again.”

The woman departed in a swirl of rich fragrance laced with cognac notes. Though a Beta, Xu Su carried a pheromone detector for work purposes. Clearly, Miss Song carried traces of a certain well-known alpha’s scent . Smiling as she bid farewell to this enchanting lady, Xu Su privately acknowledged she lacked such psychological resilience.

Taking out her phone, she notified the VIP guest as requested: Miss Song had left the hotel.

Mingde Airport

At the executive jet terminal, only a Falcon X awaited takeoff. Xuan Tinglu jumped off the shuttle bus, the Cube Industries executive assistant briskly ascending the airstairs. The flight attendant waited by the cabin door. “Has Du Xin arrived?” Xuan asked cheerfully.

“Assistant Xuan, Vice President Du isn’t here. However,” the attendant lowered her voice, “CEO Zhou is aboard . watching a movie.”

Watching a movie?

This could shock Xuan Tinglu for a whole year. Zhou Qiwei’s attitude toward art couldn’t be called dismissive, but “keeping respectfully distant” would be accurate. Had the sun risen in the north today? In that brief moment of astonishment, Xuan entered the cabin.

There sat her boss and close friend, Miss Zhou Qiwei, genuinely watching a movie Song Haoyin’s “Wildcat,” no less.

This film tells the story of an unwanted Omega struggling to survive, only to have their hopes completely shattered in an alpha-dominated world. The so-called wildcat, growing up untamed with sharp claws and teeth, yet fate remains as fragile as a candle in the wind. Some plot points are quite controversial. For instance, the female lead’s father is a weak Alpha who half-heartedly assists his superior in sexually assaulting his own daughter just to get his business trip expenses reimbursed.

When Xuan Tinglu was very young, she found this scene utterly. How could such a father exist in this world! Was it necessary to use such a plot to portray the cheapness of familial bonds and Omegas in some people’s eyes?

Now, having come to understand the diversity of human nature, Xuan Tinglu can purely appreciate Song Haoyin’s acting when revisiting this scene: the young girl, trapped in a desperate situation, isn’t cowed but instead bursts with a fierce will to survive. The protagonist’s scathing rebuke of her father in this segment evokes both sympathy and deep empathy from the audience.

Yet despite her utmost efforts, the heroine still meets her demise before this morally bankrupt old monster who sold out his own daughter.

As the plot progresses to where the heroine completely abandons herself, sinking into the base desires of various people, the stark contrast between earlier and later scenes leaves viewers sighing in sorrow. It further deepens their empathy for the protagonist, stirring intense hatred and contempt for the so-called “fate of Omegas.”

Once again deeply immersed in the story, Xuan Tinglu finds herself with twin trails of tears only to notice in surprise that her dear friend is actually smiling?

Behind gold-rimmed glasses, those eyes remain unreadable, yet there’s undeniably a smile on her face. Xuan Tinglu has no idea what Zhou Qiwei finds amusing. While she cherishes all her friends equally, sometimes she genuinely dislikes Zhou Qiwei’s smile it carries an air of refined villainy, always seeming to hint at some devious scheme.

Zhou Qiwei is watching the peaches in the film. As the story’s most important symbol, peaches appear throughout: the young heroine playing with an unripe peach pit; the adult heroine keeping fragrant, ripe peaches in her room; and when betrayed and completely broken, the peaches begin developing spots, on the verge of rotting completely.

Earlier at dawn, after brief sleep, Zhou Qiwei had casually searched for information about Song Haoyin and discovered this film. One review speculated that Song Haoyin’s pheromones must smell like honey peaches an idea Zhou Qiwei found ridiculous. That cloyingly sweet scent could never suit someone like Song Haoyin.

Last night, although their pheromones had become inextricably entwined, Song Haoyin kept trying to resist their influence. Though not entirely successful, she maintained remarkable clarity throughout, even tearfully saying afterward, “I’ve caused you trouble. It was all accidental please don’t worry.”

Burdened by her own troubles and schemes against her, yet comforting others not to worry. What an interesting person.

What lingers in Zhou Qiwei’s memory from last night isn’t the perfectly proportioned figure, nor the tear-streaked face that begged to be bullied further but Song Haoyin’s pheromones. Of course the pheromones: that crisp grape-infused musk that had enveloped Zhou Qiwei’s alcoholic scent like a sword’s sheath.

Forced into her rut by the encounter, the Alpha had miraculously found herself not losing control, but instead experiencing a long-lost sense of security.

The sound of sobbing snapped Zhou Qiwei back to reality. She found Xuan Tinglu in tears, sniffling as she choked out, “Why aren’t you crying? Wuwuwu. If only Du Xin were here.”

“Here, wipe your face.” Zhou Qiwei handed her a tissue with a look of mild disgust, casually asking, “What, did she like this film?”

Xuan Tinglu seemed even more surprised. “She and Song Haoyin were drama club partners in college you didn’t know?” Her tone suddenly carried a hint of disapproval. “You really don’t pay attention to Du Xin at all, do you?”

The remark bordered on accusation, but the young master of Rubik’s Industries remained unmoved, showing no intention to continue the conversation. Watching Zhou Qiwei’s profile grow calm and distant, Xuan Tinglu deflated. What was the point of her concern when it went unappreciated?

In the silence, the flight attendant came to inquire about departure timing, only to find both the CEO and her assistant wordless.

Bathed in the faint light filtering through the cabin window, the young woman sat expressionless, detached from her surroundings. Yet the glow softened her features slightly, diminishing her usual air of aloofness and making her seem less unapproachable.

Her phone vibrated. After reading the message, Zhou Qiwei signaled for takeoff before turning to her assistant. “I recall we previously discussed entering the entertainment industry. Du Xin mentioned she could secure a TV license. When you have time, ask her about the progress.”

“Having time” meant immediately, as Xuan Tinglu well knew. Watching Zhou Qiwei settle in for a nap, she pulled out her phone to email and call Vice President Du, complaining, “Qiwei’s getting stranger by the day!”

But Du Xin focused elsewhere: “How is she? Is she doing alright?”

“She seems fine energetic enough to mess with people,” Xuan Tinglu grumbled. “Why do you care? She didn’t even know you were in the drama club!”

When Du Xin didn’t respond immediately, Xuan Tinglu regretted her words. She always envied how, despite being part of their trio, she often felt like an outsider with Du Xin.

“How did the drama club come up?” Du Xin finally replied.

Seizing the chance to move past her earlier comment, Xuan Tinglu explained, “She was watching that movie Wild Cat, starring Song Haoyin and it led to the drama club. Oh, Qiwei also asked about the TV license. Is now a good time to pursue it?”

“Probably not.”

The reply came swiftly, accompanied by a lengthy text. Before Xuan Tinglu could finish reading, slender fingers plucked the phone from her hands. Zhou Qiwei skimmed the message with quiet efficiency.

It turned out the TV license opportunity had come through Song Haoyin’s connections. With her family’s deep entertainment industry ties, securing the license for Rubik’s Industries would normally have been simple. But now, with Song herself in trouble, the license had become a distant prospect effectively impossible at present.

In Luocheng, at Rubik’s Industries headquarters, Executive Vice President Du Xin opened the latest email. Zhou Qiwei’s response was brief: “Go find Song Haoyin.”