The Scummy Alpha Is Deliberately Marked by the Femme Fatale - Chapter 1

In a brief glance over her shoulder, the contract was slapped down right in front of Li Cen. The lingering cut on her cheek throbbed faintly, and she drew in a sharp breath before lifting her gaze to meet the eyes of the Omega superstar before her—only to quickly look away.

Yan Qi leaned back in her chair, her face cool and distant. Her eyes swept Li Cen up and down as she idly traced the rim of her teacup, her expression carrying a faint wariness. It was a far cry from the warm, approachable persona she projected online.

Lowering her head, Li Cen scanned the contract spread out on the coffee table. Every clause was tailored to her current situation, yet she still couldn’t help but ask, curiosity lacing her tone:

“Why do you want to sign this with me? I don’t believe Miss Yan Qi is someone who can’t weigh pros and cons.”

Li Cen carried too many labels—each one, on its own, enough for the public to tear her apart. Yet, thanks to certain backing, she’d never been forced out of the industry.

The label of Scummy Alpha clung to her like a second skin—nightclubs, endless scandals, and nothing of real value others could exploit.

Her only “advantage” was her identity as the Li family’s second daughter. But she’d never been bothered by that label. She had her secrets.

“Someone’s been pulling strings against me lately. I need an Alpha. You and I—pairing up as a CP, boosting publicity, killing scandals, building personas—it’s win-win for both of us.”

On paper, yes—it was win-win.

But why her?

Perhaps the only reason was that night.

By sheer bad luck, she had accidentally marked an Omega that night. And by an even worse coincidence, that Omega turned out to be Yan Qi.

“In that case, just sign it.”

The terms were straightforward, and by any measure, worth agreeing to. If she’d looked up at Yan Qi then, she might have noticed the quiet determination in her eyes—but she didn’t.

Li Cen’s mind was still tangled in Yan Qi’s earlier words and her own unease.

Yan Qi, watching Li Cen’s hesitation, tugged at her collar in impatience. She shifted her gaze toward the scenery beyond, though in truth, she was covertly watching the Alpha’s every move. Her high heels dangled loosely at her toes, rising and falling with the lazy swing of her crossed leg.

“If Miss Li has no objections, please sign.”

Li Cen’s thoughts were in chaos. Pinching the bridge of her nose, she stared down at the contract, but her mind wandered back to the nervousness she’d felt on the way here.

She didn’t have a deep impression of Yan Qi. According to her agent, the two had debuted around the same time—but Yan Qi’s career had skyrocketed, and in just one year, she’d reached the very top.

Li Cen had only seen her recently in a video clip—downcast eyes brimming with emotion, lips curved in a faint smile, her beauty tinged with a fragility that seemed to pity a pure lotus dragged into the mud.

“Miss Yan, why don’t you like spicy food?”

A staff member had asked during an interview, holding up a little question card. It was a simple, ordinary query—but it piqued Li Cen’s interest.

To Li Cen, who couldn’t live without spice, a meal without chili was bland and meaningless.

“I’m not very tolerant of spice,” Yan Qi had replied with a soft smile, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I prefer lighter flavors.”

“Some fans are curious why you dislike salmon. Could you tell us?”

“Because she doesn’t like it—so I don’t like it either.”

Salmon—Yan Qi didn’t like it. Li Cen instantly agreed in her heart. She didn’t like salmon either; it felt too cold, unsettling to the body.

When she was little, she’d once overeaten salmon out of greed and ended up in the hospital overnight, sending her elder brother into a panic.

That interview had caused a stir online. Everyone speculated over who the mysterious “she” was, but no one ever found out. Eventually, the hype died down, buried under other gossip.

In the entertainment world, she’d often heard of people trying to hitch onto Yan Qi’s fame—but without fail, they were met with direct rebuttals and lawyer’s letters. Li Cen could only imagine the kind of mental fortitude an Alpha would need to like someone like Yan Qi and survive her.

Her gaze drifted to the window. Sunlight poured into the car, the breeze teasing her hair, and drowsiness soon pulled her under. By the time she woke, they’d arrived.

Looking at the languid woman before her now, Li Cen found it hard to reconcile her with the gentle, gracious persona adored by the media. They didn’t match at all.

She lowered her head, reading the contract word by word. Slowly, her gaze crept upward, stealing a glance at Yan Qi. Her long bangs brushed over her collarbone; a few strands of indigo hair were swept up to the left side, tied together with a white lychee-rose hairpin.

Li Cen’s eyes lingered on that hairpin. For a moment, she forgot her next move.

Was this coincidence… or deliberate?

How did Yan Qi know the scent of her pheromones?

Unless…

The thought made her pause.

Of course—she had marked her. Her scent must have clung to Yan Qi completely.

Maybe her stare was too intense, because Yan Qi suddenly turned, caught her, and curled her lips in a faint smirk—without saying a word. Li Cen quickly ducked her head, pretending to focus on the contract.

Her mind, however, was a mess. She skimmed the terms—no scandalous behavior, no flirting with others, pheromone soothing required during Omega heat, and no excessive physical contact.

A reckless thought flashed in her mind, but her moral restraint kept her from voicing it—lest she be thrown out on the spot.

“What’s wrong? Forgotten what happened last night? Do you need me to help you remember?”

Yan Qi’s patience was wearing thin. Assuming Li Cen was stalling, she decided to play hardball—tossing the marriage certificate they’d just collected from the Civil Affairs Bureau into Li Cen’s lap. Her eyes were filled with disdain.

With a crystal glass of red wine in hand, she strolled up to Li Cen. Tilting the glass slightly, she let the wine ripple to the edge.

Li Cen’s right eyelid twitched—certain the next second Yan Qi would throw the wine in her face. She stood abruptly, steadying herself, only to meet Yan Qi’s amused gaze head-on.

Her mind flashed back to the idiotic stunt she’d pulled that morning. She could only wish she could go back in time and slap herself—twice.

The sunlight filtered through the sheer curtains, riding the wind into her arms, brushing her back, and tangling playfully in her long hair.

She had woken that morning in a hotel bed, scanning the unfamiliar room before spotting her phone on the table—unplugged, uncharged. She figured she must have gotten drunk at last night’s banquet and forgotten.

But the moment she plugged it in, a flood of messages from her agent bombarded the screen.

She opened her social app. The pinned chat with her agent was maxed out at 99+, and she scratched her head, clueless as to what she had done to send He-jie into such a panic.

Clicking into the chat, she was met with a forwarded screenshot of Yan Qi’s Weibo. Without hesitation, she went to check Yan Qi’s page.

[Flechazo: @Yolo, eat your fill and run?]

Attached was a photo—an elegant neck, pale as snow, made even more enticing by the deep mark on it.

Li Cen tapped the image open. Yan Qi’s skin was flawless, the bite mark stark and suggestive against it.

[Yolo: @Flechazo See you at the Civil Affairs Bureau.]

On impulse, she had posted that reply—with a photo of herself outside the Bureau, originally taken while she was waiting for her brother and his husband to collect their own certificate.

That impulsive move had caused her a world of trouble.

Netizens raged:

[@You’reWrong]: Miss Li, can you get out of the entertainment industry? Stop disgusting people here.

[@LovesCilantro]: Can you hurry up and go get married? Stop ruining our Qi Qi in the industry.

…

The negative comments were endless. Li Cen casually skimmed through a few, found none of them particularly damaging, and exited Weibo. But then her manager, He-jie, discovered she had replied to a message on Weibo—and called her immediately.

Li Cen answered in a fluster.

First came dead silence, and then He-jie’s furious roar.

“For heaven’s sake, can you stop stirring up trouble? We just got served a lawyer’s letter!”

“I must have committed grave sins in a past life to end up managing you. Such a great hand of cards, and you’ve played them this badly… You’re the first.”

He-jie gave a short, incredulous laugh, then raked a hand through her hair. Glancing at the contract in front of her, she sighed helplessly.

“There was a meeting this morning. Yan Qi’s assistant personally delivered a lawyer’s letter—demanding compensation and for you to sign this contract. This afternoon, you’re coming with me to apologize.”

As He-jie explained the whole situation, Li Cen’s fuzzy memories began to resurface.

Last night, she had been asked to attend a banquet on someone’s behalf. She must have drunk too much, because she left early. Stumbling down the hallway in a mess, she spotted someone, grabbed her hand, and—assuming she was a hotel staff member—asked her to take her back to her room.

Before entering, she even double-checked the room number at the door. It was correct.

But according to He-jie, in her drunken state she had accidentally marked Yan Qi.

Li Cen’s heart lurched. She lowered her voice cautiously.

“Wait… which top star? Yan Qi?”

“Who else? There’s only one Yan Qi in the industry.”

Li Cen squatted down, burying her face against her knees. She rubbed the back of her neck, guilt prickling.

She remembered that at the banquet, Yan Qi had worn a warm yet utterly fake smile—just recalling it made her skin crawl. For one fleeting second, she had even considered ending her own life.

Why does anyone think Yan Qi is warm and approachable, like some big sister? Doesn’t anyone else find that smile terrifying?

The thought came unbidden. But with no better solution, she could only grit her teeth and follow through with the plan—go with Yan Qi to the Civil Affairs Bureau and get the marriage certificate.

Standing before the red backdrop, Li Cen put on her professional fake smile. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Yan Qi’s radiant grin—tinged with pride and a trace of arrogance.

But the moment the photos were taken, that smile vanished, replaced by her usual cold expression—as if the rippling lake of spring had instantly frozen into a dead pool.

When the memory ended, Li Cen found herself staring into Yan Qi’s hostile gaze, a shiver running down her spine.

He-jie shot her a worried look. But Li Cen didn’t dwell on it—she quickly signed her name and handed the contract to Yan Qi’s assistant, Ze An.

“Since I’ve signed, how about we add each other’s contact info?”

Yan Qi ignored her entirely and told the manager to see them out.

Li Cen got up, blocking He-jie before she could step forward, and stopped the security guards from approaching. Then, sensibly, she left on her own.

Once outside the meeting room, He-jie patted her shoulder helplessly. A notification chimed on Li Cen’s phone. She immediately opened her chat app—she had no interest in discussing He-jie’s mood.

It wasn’t until they got in the car that He-jie finally spoke. Li Cen, dispirited, replied halfheartedly.

“The two of you really are polar opposites—same debut year, but worlds apart. Tsk, tsk… you’re in for it.”

“But that night, I clearly remember I didn’t go to the wrong room. How did I end up…?”

“I don’t know either. I only got called into the meeting this morning.”

Li Cen felt something wasn’t right. She could almost swear she hadn’t gone into the wrong room that night. How could she have ended up entangled with her rival?

It was too strange. She had no memory of it at all—unless someone had planned it. But who?

In this industry, few wanted anything to do with her. Yan Qi, on the other hand, was like a prize dish on a platter.

Her phone rang, breaking her thoughts. She looked down at the screen.

[Someone whose thoughts revolve entirely around finding a partner (real brother)]: You’re really getting married? For real?

[Li Cen]: ??? When have I ever lied?

[Someone whose thoughts revolve entirely around finding a partner (real brother)]: Don’t tell me you’ve already got kids too. Knowing you, they’d be seven or eight by now.

[Li Cen]: ??? “What? You’re seriously claiming you didn’t go clubbing when you were with Ge Fu?”

That shut her brother up.

In the past, she and her brother had frequented nightclubs together, stirring up plenty of rumors—but they always blew over.

Since her brother’s marriage, though, he’d rarely gone out. His husband wouldn’t allow it—said his back wouldn’t survive—so now he lived in constant fear of being caught.

And indeed, every time after her brother’s little escapades, his husband would be waiting outside the club. The moment he appeared, that tall, 1.9-meter man would start crying like a pear blossom in the rain, tears streaming as if they were free.

Her brother always ended up wracked with guilt—especially when faced with that flawless beauty sobbing as if he’d committed some heinous crime.

Her brother-in-law used this trick every time, and her brother fell for it every time.

Li Cen pinched the bridge of her nose. This love-brained brother of hers… she could do without.

Back at her apartment, she pushed the door open. Little Jimmy was there wagging his tail to greet her.

Little Jimmy—a corgi-Samoyed mix—had been adopted together with a close senior in college. But after that senior went abroad for further studies, they’d lost touch.

A major change in her senior’s family had led her to entrust Little Jimmy to Li Cen. Without realizing it, ten years had passed since they last saw each other.

“Little Jimmy, you’re so cute. Did you miss me? I missed you so much. When Senior comes back, we’ll go visit her together.”

Sensing her mood, Little Jimmy licked her cheek. She scratched his fluffy fur absentmindedly.

Because her brother-in-law was busy with a company launch, he hadn’t been spending much time with her brother—who, unsurprisingly, came to her to complain.

This time was no exception.

While she was preparing hotpot, her brother shamelessly showed up to freeload.

“Bro, why are you here again?” Li Cen asked.

“You know how miserable your brother’s life is. Remember last time I choked on a peppercorn eating hotpot? Guess what he did?”

“He banned spicy hotpot! Now it’s clear broth every time. What am I supposed to eat—boiled ghost? Then he says, ‘Let’s have fish head tofu.’ My god, nothing but white everywhere—no flavor, no joy—”

Li Cen clamped her hands over her ears and frowned.

Her brother dropped a few slices of marbled beef into the pot, chewing as he complained.

“It’s always work, work, work—anyone would think he was having an affair with his job!”

“Bro, do you want me to write you a script called The Domineering CEO’s First Love Returns with Ten Kids at the Airport?”

“I’ve read enough CEO romance novels to guarantee you could go from zero to octuplets in one go.”

Her brother’s eyelid twitched. His mouth curled into a smirk.

“Good grief, sis, what kind of nonsense have you been reading? Octuplets? You think I’m some kind of gourd spirit?”

“Gourd Brothers were seven… wait, actually, to your husband you’re still a baby, so eight sounds about right.”

“There you go again! Honestly, you Alphas don’t know how to spend time with your partners. I’m dying from my heats, and he says one shot and I’ll be fine.”

“Fine, my ass. He’s definitely keeping a side piece somewhere, that bastard…”

Watching him ramble drunkenly, Li Cen noticed several empty beer bottles beside him. Resigned, she dialed her brother-in-law’s number.

“Hello?”

The cold, distant voice came through the phone. Li Cen glanced at her brother and began the report.

“Brother-in-law, my brother’s at my place, drunk, and losing it—”

“Why’d you let him come? Don’t let him—ugh! Order me a male model instead, I don’t want him—”

Li Cen could already hear her brother-in-law’s knuckles cracking over the line. She gave an awkward little smile.

“Xiao Cen, keep him there. I’m coming now.”

Before she could reply, he hung up.

Li Cen knew—her brother was done for.

And not just his back—his whole body.

She’d seen her brother-in-law’s capabilities. It took her brother three days to get out of bed, and a week before he could walk without trembling legs.

She glanced at the drunken man beside her and silently prayed for his waist.

Bro… you’re on your own.