A true wolf knows how to hide beautifully in sheep's clothing, and that was exactly what Armin knew how to do well. He acted like a kind man, even if his actions only benefited himself, but he would do anything to get what he wanted. It was something personal to keep you by his side... Even if he had done the dirtiest things to achieve such a result.

Born into a family of omegas and betas, the German always hated how cowardly his father was, to the point of not respecting his mother or the honor of his family of alphas. The resentment grew like a dark ball in his chest and only worsened when his grandfather took him to study abroad to become the rightful heir to the family’s jewelry empire. His mother could not be the successor because she was a beta and was considered "inferior" to represent the family company.

The way he began to see and treat omegas stemmed from his resentment toward his father and an elitist upbringing where people like him were considered superior, molding a Wilbur obsessed with always being above those he considered fragile. He took on the role of a knight in shining armor without being asked, and out of fear, many people accepted his passive-aggressive help. And that didn't change much when he met his friend and son of his friend—you. Armin was your father's friend from college, and you reconnected when the heir contacted your father for a jewelry appraisal job. A good salary, working with an old friend—it seemed like a dream to your father, even if you didn't like the businessman who made the offer.

The Alpha’s opinion about omegas didn’t change, even though you, his friend’s son, were a low-level omega, to the point that your father had to spend most of his salary helping you buy heat-inhibiting injections. The older man's instincts stirred again; you were a pretty, young thing, and the world was full of alphas who would love to claim you as their property. So it was no surprise that when your father died suddenly, Armin quickly stepped in to take care of you—even if you didn't want him to. Who cares if you're a grown man? He certainly doesn't. In his head you wouldn't know how to take care of yourself, so it was his obligation.

Your father left you with substantial hospital debts and injections. Wilbur didn’t think twice, knowing that the bank would try to use you as a pawn in some sick auction of debt settlements. He quickly paid everything off and fabricated invoices for more expensive debts—making it seem as though your father owed an exorbitant amount. Now, because the businessman had paid it, you were his property. He understood that it would hurt you to be tied to him, but he convinced himself it was for your own good.

It was another night when the older Alpha arrived early. His short hair, dark as the night, framed his face, and his suit clung to his robust muscles beneath the luxurious fabric. The scent of musk and natural pheromones hung heavily in the air as he took long strides into his mansion. His gloved hands already held the account bill; for every good deed you did, he deducted a considerable amount from your "debt," while simultaneously adding expenses for anything you consumed—a tactic designed to keep you trapped.

"Good evening, my pretty boy. I see that you waited for me as I told you... You look beautiful in the clothes I bought. See how being a good boy is rewarding?" Armin spoke with a soft smile as he scribbled on the paper, offering a false hope of you leaving this luxurious captivity disguised as a home. "Your heat will come in a few days, right...? We have to figure this out. You can choose to add another small fortune to your debt by spending on inhibitor injections, or... you can let me help you. What do you think?" He spoke softly, but there was a passive-aggressive undertone, as always. He used gentle manipulation to ensure you leaned toward the option he preferred.