"I'll do as I please." Harry's voice reverberated through the mansion as he hastened his steps towards the exit.

"Mr. Styles, your father explicitly instructed me not to permit you to attend the party. Those were his exact words before he and your mother departed for France," stated Alfred Tabor, Harry's butler.

Alfred, a short, dignified man of approximately 45 years, had a longstanding connection with the Styles family. He served as a right-hand man to Harry's father, Desmond, and had been present throughout Harry's entire life. He was akin to family.

Harry's father embodied strong principles, having risen from poverty to becoming one of the wealthiest individuals in the country by the time his son was born.

Consequently, Harry was born into privilege, but this privilege often manifested as entitlement, rebellion, hedonism, and lewdness, typical of many affluent youths.

Anne, Harry's mother, held hope that her son would outgrow his rebellious and licentious behavior, but Desmond remained steadfast in his determination to instill discipline and improvement in Harry.

Hence, he had chosen to vacation in France with his wife for a week, leaving Harry with business responsibilities, and had entrusted Alfred with the task of overseeing his son.

Alfred trailed just behind Harry, his pace nearly matching Harry's, yet his movements exuded refinement and elegance, contrasting sharply with the clumsy and irate strides of Harry.

"Mr. Styles, you cannot go!" Alfred asserted, his voice resonating with authority.

Harry halted abruptly, pivoting to face his butler. "You have no right to tell me what to do or what not to do," he retorted defiantly.

Alfred raised an eye, "Are you forgetting that I practically raised you?"

Harry's expression softened as Alfred's question sank in. Despite being a thorn in his side, Harry couldn't deny Alfred's pivotal role in his life. Harry knew Alfred cared for like his own son.

But Alfred was extremely loyal to his father. He would constantly keep an eye on Harry and as soon as he'd find out something scandalous that Harry did, he'd immediately tell Desmond and then Harry would have to deal with the consequences- scoldings, reprimands.

"It's just one party, Alfred. I'm twenty four. If I don't party now, then when will I?" Harry reasoned, crossing his arms defiantly.

In the dimly lit expanse of the luxurious mansion hall, only the glow of the towering chandelier illuminated their exchange. Alfred sighed, acknowledging Harry's statement.

"At twenty four, your father worked 12-hour days," Alfred reminded Harry solemnly.

Harry's eyes darkened at the reminder of his father's accomplishments. The constant comparisons grated on him like nails on a chalkboard.

While he appreciated his father's hard work and the privileges it afforded him, being constantly measured against his father's achievements left him feeling inadequate and resentful. He despised the way it made him feel lesser, as if he could never measure up.

"Well, my father was the only alpha son of a poor farmer, and I'm the only alpha son of a wealthy businessman," Harry shrugged.

He then realized he had blurted out the comparison without intending to, and he couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt for dragging his late grandfather into the conversation just for the sake of a comeback.

"Harry, you have a business meeting to attend tomorrow," Alfred sighed, his disappointment evident in his tone.

Alfred had long believed that Harry possessed natural business acumen, perhaps inherited from his father, but he often fell short in terms of seriousness and determination.

Business didn't seem to be Harry's top priority; instead, he prioritized luxurious parties and personal enjoyment, relegating business matters to secondary importance, a perspective that Alfred found deeply concerning.

When Alfred shifted from addressing him as "Mr. Styles" to simply "Harry," a sinking feeling settled in Harry's stomach. He knew he had crossed a line and disappointed Alfred deeply. But he had to go. Call him selfish, but he liked to do what he wanted to, no matter what.

"And I will attend it," Harry assured nonchalantly, though his confidence faltered under Alfred's pointed question.

"With a hangover?" Alfred countered, his skepticism palpable.

"I won't drink that much," Harry replied, the dishonesty evident in his tone, even to himself.

"Harry-" Alfred began, but his words fell on deaf ears as Harry simply walked away and out of the room.

Alfred sighed heavily, rubbing his forehead in frustration. "What am I going to do about this kid?" he muttered to himself.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Harry stepped out of his Lamborghini and made his way into the club recently launched by his friend, Liam. It was the grand opening night, and Liam had organized a party exclusively for their social circle.

Entry fees were steep, but as Harry approached the entrance, he noticed a sign that read, "Attractive omegas enjoy complimentary entry."

Harry chuckled at the sign, Liam was such a bastard. Shaking his head with a grin, he nodded at the guard stationed at the entrance, who promptly ushered him in with a respectful "Welcome, sir."

As Harry entered the sumptuous club, he couldn't help but notice the immediate attention he garnered. Pretty omegas, likely gold diggers well aware of his societal status, cast flirtatious glances his way, batting their eyelashes in a bid for his attention.

Clad in a black button-down shirt with the top buttons undone, paired with tight black jeans, adorned with a cross chain and rings, his attire exuded effortless style. His messy curls were artfully styled into a relaxed quiff, adding to his magnetic presence.

He flashed a flirtatious smile at the omegas before striding confidently towards his group of friends.

"Drowning in pussy and you just walked in," Zayn, his friend, remarked with a scoff, eliciting laughter from their group of four friends.

Harry shrugged nonchalantly, a smirk playing on his lips. "It is what it is," he replied.

"Fancy a smoke?" Liam offered, extending a cigar towards Harry.

"Don't mind if I do," Harry replied, accepting the cigar and taking a leisurely puff.

"You guys won't believe what happened last night," Sarah Jones, their friend and an alpha female, exclaimed, drawing the attention of their group.

Harry, Liam, Zayn, and Sarah were all alphas and had been close friends since the age of 14, attending the same prestigious private high school.

Apart from their alpha circle, Harry also had a beta friend, Mitch Rowland, who attended Columbia University in America.

Additionally, there was one omega friend, Mia Winslow, whom Harry regarded more like a sister. Although she was undoubtedly attractive, Harry had never considered pursuing anything romantic with her due to their close bond. Perhaps, she was the only attractive omega Harry wouldn't fuck because God knows he loves pleasure.

Mia attended university with Harry but preferred to avoid the party scene, so she wasn't present at the club with them.

In their group, Harry and Zayn attended Oxford where Harry was doing MBA along with Mia, while Liam and Sarah attended Cambridge.

"What?" Harry inquired, his curiosity piqued.

"She called me. Again," Sarah replied with a frustrated tone. Harry huffed in exasperation.

Sarah was referring to her toxic ex-girlfriend, an omega who had exploited Sarah for her wealth. Harry harbored a deep disdain for omegas like that, who manipulated alphas into believing it was genuine love when all they sought was financial gain.

In Harry's estimation, about sixty percent of omegas fell into this category-money trappers, as he saw it. That's why he preferred one-night stands and casual encounters over genuine relationships.

"What a bitch," Harry growled in agreement.

"Right? Like, why are you calling me and crying? You were the one who cheated, motherfucker," Sarah exclaimed, rolling her eyes in frustration.

"Forget her, and have a drink," Liam suggested, passing Sarah a drink, which she gratefully accepted.

"To Liam's new club!" Zayn declared, raising his glass high and handing one to each person in the group. Everyone joined in, raising their glasses and cheering for Liam as they made a toast to his new venture.

The remainder of the night passed in a blur, with the friends seated together, reminiscing about past memories and sharing stories of present challenges.

As they continued to drink and converse, Harry mentioned that he had work commitments the following day, as his father was out of the country and he needed to attend business meetings in his absence.

Despite Harry's impending responsibilities, his friends remained by his side, engaging in lively conversation and sharing laughter over everything and anything.

After a while, as night had fully descended, Harry and his friends decided to make their way to the dance floor.

Harry found himself grinding on a pretty omega named either Ava or Avery; he couldn't quite recall amidst the pulsating beats of "Baby By Me" by 50 Cent. Harry personally thought it was a song with a great beat but terrible lyrics because the last thing he wanted at the club was for someone there to have a baby by him and become a millionaire through child support. Yikes.

The omega giggled as Harry's hands ventured further down her waist, boldly cupping her ass.

Harry's gaze momentarily shifted, locking with the captivating stare of a boy across the room. His eyes, a mesmerizing shade of electric blue, held Harry's attention effortlessly.

It was evident to Harry that the boy was an omega, exuding an undeniable allure that surpassed even the omega currently in his arms. Despite wearing minimal makeup, or perhaps none at all, the boy looked prettier than the omega Harry currently was with.

Harry withdrew his hands from... Ava? Avery? Or maybe Amanda? Well, whoever she was.

Without uttering a single word, Harry disentangled himself from the omega's grasp and walked away, leaving her to protest with an offended "hey!" and shooting daggers at him with her eyes.

Harry remained unfazed by the omega's protestations, his sole focus now on the captivating blue-eyed boy. As he approached, he noticed the boy was accompanied by two other omegas who were urging him to join them on the dance floor, though he appeared hesitant, displaying traits of shyness.

This only intrigued Harry further; he was drawn to the quiet, reserved type. Eavesdropping on their conversation discreetly, Harry sought to learn more about the boy.

"No! You guys have already dragged me here even though I didn't want to! You're not making me go to the dance floor with all those alphas," the pretty omega protested with a whine, adamant in his refusal.

A peculiar sensation churned in Harry's stomach as he watched the scene unfold. He couldn't bear the thought of the omega being on the dance floor, vulnerable to the advances of any alpha. The idea of someone else touching him ignited an instinctive growl within Harry, a reaction he found absurd considering he didn't even know the omega.

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Harry made a decision. Tonight, he would take the omega home. No one else would have him. Even though he knew it would be just for tonight, he wanted the omega to be his, if only for a fleeting moment.

Approaching the omega, Harry found him standing alone, seemingly content to watch his friends on the dance floor with a smile. With determination in his stride, Harry closed the distance between them.

As Harry drew nearer to the omega, he was immediately enveloped by the intoxicating scent emanating from him. It was utterly mesmerizing, sweet and inviting, reminiscent of vanilla ice cream on a warm summer day.

"Hi," Harry greeted, standing beside the omega.

The omega shifted slightly away, offering a polite smile in return. "Hello," he replied.

"I'm Harry. And what's the pretty omega's name?" Harry inquired, gesturing towards the omega.

"Oh, who? My friend over there?" the omega, named Louis, asked, pointing towards one of his friends with blonde hair and blue eyes.

Harry chuckled at Louis's misunderstanding. It was evident that Louis wasn't accustomed to club settings and didn't realize Harry was flirting with him.

"No, I was talking about you," Harry clarified, casting a flirtatious gaze in Louis's direction.

The omega, Louis, blushed a deep shade of red and glanced away before answering, "I'm Louis."

"Well, Louis, do you want a drink?" Harry offered, prepared to cover the cost of as many drinks as Louis desired. However, Louis shook his head.

"I'm driving tonight, so no drinks for me," Louis declined politely.

Harry nodded thoughtfully. Louis seemed different from the other omegas Harry had encountered, but Harry couldn't help but wonder just how different he truly was. Perhaps he was putting on an act, Harry mused, unwilling to fully trust the notion of an omega being genuinely different from the rest.

Despite Harry's attempts at flirting, it became apparent that Louis wasn't as receptive as other omegas Harry had encountered. Sensing Louis's hesitance, Harry decided to take the initiative and make the first move. Perhaps Louis was simply shy, Harry reasoned.

Harry moved closer to Louis, suggesting, "How about we take this somewhere else?"

Louis raised an eyebrow, his expression wary. "Are you asking me to go with you?"

"Pretty much," Harry confirmed.

"No decorum? Just immediately want me in your bed for a night?" Louis questioned, his tone tinged with annoyance.

Harry chuckled at Louis's response. "You're in Liam Payne's club, talking to me. What did you expect? That's all I want, babe," he replied candidly.

Louis's eyes widened in realization. "Wait... you're Harry Styles? Fuck, you're him, aren't you?" he exclaimed.

Harry grinned, noting Louis's recognition. It seemed his fame often opened doors, particularly with omegas who were familiar with him. "Yeah," Harry confirmed with a nonchalant shrug.

Louis recoiled in disgust after recognising Harry, attempting to move away, but Harry firmly pulled him closer.

"Oh, come on, let me show you a good time," Harry persisted, trying to persuade Louis.

"Fuck off, you cunt," Louis growled, breaking free from Harry's grasp and swiftly retreating to his friends.

Harry's eyebrows furrowed in confusion and frustration at the omega's unexpected reaction. No omega had ever said no to him, let alone curse him out, they were always ecstatic to be with him. He felt a surge of disrespect and anger rising within him, fueling his determination to get what he wanted.

For the first time, Harry hadn't gotten his way, and it irked him deeply. His usually charming demeanor was overshadowed by a dark intensity in his eyes as he resolved to pursue his desire even more fervently.

Trying to calm his rising anger, Harry took a shot, hoping to regain his composure. Soon, a few other omegas flocked towards him, and he made a decision to take one of them home-a girl in a red dress-as he desperately needed a release.

Bididng farewell to his friends, Harry wrapped his arms around the omega, feeling her cling to him as they made their way out of the club.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

"Oh, God," Harry groaned as he swallowed a painkiller.

He was extremely hungover. He had to conceal his state from Alfred, or he'd be in big trouble. Thankfully, he was pretty sure Alfred was already at the office and Harry was alone in the mansion, well except for the maids of course.

The omega he had brought home had left before he had even woken up, something he was immensely grateful for.

"Here you go, darling," Zebda, Alfred's wife and the head maid of the mansion, said softly as she placed a cup of black coffee next to him, prepared exactly how he liked it. She knew it would help him feel better.

Harry offered Zebda a slight smile. She was a very kind and nurturing omega, and she had been a constant presence in his life since his birth.

Taking a sip of the coffee, Harry felt a slight improvement in his condition. He was dressed and ready, with 30 minutes to spare before he had to leave. Hopefully, the headache would subside by then.

Harry drank his coffee and another hangover cure, feeling grateful that he was back to normal by the time he was driving towards his office building-a tall, fancy skyscraper.

Upon arriving at the office, Harry headed straight to the meeting room, where he unsurprisingly, found Alfred already present.

Several murmurs of "Hello" filled the room, and Harry simply nodded in acknowledgment as he took his seat in the main chair at the desk.

"This meeting is mainly about our debtors," Hubert, one of the employees, announced, and Harry nodded, gesturing for him to continue.

Hubert continued to address the group, discussing the positive state of their business but highlighting the need to instill some urgency and accountability among their debtors, as they hadn't been meeting their repayment obligations effectively.

Harry nodded in agreement, his expression furrowing with concern at the news.

"Who's the person that owes us the most money?" Harry asked, his tone serious.

"Mark Tomlinson," Hubert replied promptly.

"Tell me about him," Harry requested.

"Mark Tomlinson is a man in his forties, an alpha. He has five children: an omega son, three omega daughters, and one alpha daughter. He's married, and he owes us €150,000," Hubert explained.

Harry let out a low whistle in response. "That much? Is he a gambler?" he inquired.

"No, sir. Just a few failed businesses," Hubert clarified.

Harry nodded thoughtfully. "Well, I ought to pay him a visit today. Put some sense into him," he remarked, a smirk forming on his lips.

"Exactly," Hubert agreed, nodding in approval.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Harry knocked firmly on the door of Mark Tomlinson's house, his expression grave and determined. The house appeared aged and relatively small, particularly for a large family. Harry's imposing black Rolls-Royce Cullinan was parked prominently in front of the house. Concealed beneath his T-shirt, a gun was holstered in his belt.

While Harry's father disapproved of his more aggressive tactics for debt collection, Harry found that they consistently yielded results. Even Hubert, his father's trusted advisor, agreed.

The door was finally opened by a woman whom Harry suspected to be Mark's wife. She looked at him, and her eyes widened in recognition.

"Hello, darling," Harry greeted smoothly, flashing a quick, sly smile.

"Do you recognize me, or do I need to put a name to the face?" Harry quipped, raising an eyebrow inquisitively.

Harry noticed a hint of fear in the strangely familiar blue eyes of the woman, confirming his suspicion that she did recognize him and was scared. He scoffed inwardly. Despite his reputation, Harry had no intention of harming a seemingly kind-hearted middle-aged omega. He had his limits and drew the line at being a complete piece of shit.

"Are you going to let me in, darling? I won't do anything, I swear!" Harry said, raising his hands in mock surrender. "Especially not to you. I don't harm pretty things," he added cheekily, flashing a charming smile.

The woman was finally snapped out of her daze as she shook her head. "Of course, sorry! Come in, please. Come in. I'll call for Mark," she said, stepping aside to