Help! the four Alpha's are obsessed with me.-Chapter 176 Night at the hotel...

Inside a cab, a young man with green-dyed hair and pure blue eyes that seemed to glow against his striking appearance was making a call. He was a beauty, and currently headed to the famous Chinese hotel situated in the middle of Manhattan.

"Well, Daniel, I’m fine. C’mon, this is the fifth time in a row you’re calling me—it’s sickening!" Charles complained, a little irritation creeping into his voice.

Daniel, on the other end, didn’t take it well.

"You’re one of my few besties. If I don’t look after you, who will? Because as it seems, you’re not taking good care of yourself," Daniel insisted.

Charles sighed and facepalmed. Did he have to go through this every day? It was enough already.

"Okay, I was in an accident. I had surgery, but I’m fine now. Look, I’m stronger than you know," he exclaimed, smiling. Even though he acted annoyed, in his mind he appreciated it deeply—just like he appreciated Draven’s visits. But now he was fine.

He still couldn’t believe he’d made a new friend—and not just anyone, but Daniel Lancaster himself. The infamous omega who’d turned New York City and the whole of Manhattan upside down. It had been a shocker, something that still felt like a dream. But it was real, and now he intended to live his best life.

"Okay, Charles, I love you, bestie. Just take care of yourself. And one more thing—if you ever feel lonely, just come stay at our hotel!" Daniel proposed.

Charles laughed it off.

"Don’t be stupid, Daniel. It’s your matrimonial place. I can’t just move in with you people. I’m friends with Draven, but I know when to give people their space. This is one of those times. I don’t mind, and I definitely don’t want to stay cooped up hiding in that hotel with you," he pointed out.

Both of them burst into loud laughter.

"You’re so right. Being cooked up here all day is annoying. Can you imagine having three husbands who won’t let you go, and damn—two babies on top of it?" Daniel complained.

Charles shook his head in mock sympathy.

"I understand your pain. Especially your legs. Imagine getting dickmatized every day by three men. It must be exhausting."

There was a pause on the other end before Daniel exploded into wild laughter.

"Girl, it has been a wild ride. My hormones just won’t let me go, and damn, their dicks are heaven. You just have to try it out—put that virgin ass to use and get yourself a man," Daniel declared.

Before Charles could reply, Daniel interjected, "I’m only joking! Don’t get yourself ruined because of a man. I love seeing you pure. By God’s grace, maybe your prince charming with a monster cock will come someday."

They broke into another fit of laughter.

"I hate you so much, Daniel," Charles commented.

"Hate you more, darling," Daniel kissed the screen and ended the call—before he could ask one of his ridiculous questions. Charles was surprised Daniel hadn’t picked up on the sound of the vehicle or asked where he was headed. The guy usually noticed everything, always questioning him to make sure he was safe, to ensure no "incident" happened to him again.

Charles appreciated the effort, but he wasn’t spineless. He could handle himself. Maybe he’d visit that blockhead friend of his—and Draven—after today’s fun. Daniel didn’t know yet, but later, he’d let him know: Charles McCall was finally getting his first dick. How exciting.

While handling his phone, scrolling through his socials, he noticed the driver watching him through the rearview mirror. The look was weird, the eyes strange—almost disgusted. Oh wow, a homophobic driver. What a surprise.

He didn’t care. As long as the man got him to his destination, he was good. No one had the right to tell him how to live his life—especially not some random driver he’d just met.

"Shanghai Hotel, sir. Looks like you’re taking the wrong route," Charles corrected.

Embarrassed, the driver quickly rerouted and pulled up to the curb.

"Thanks, dude," Charles offered a smile and stepped out. But before leaving, he decided to leave the driver with a piece of his mind.

"And maybe instead of acting homophobic, you should focus on your business. Mind your work and leave your customers alone. If it weren’t for your useless, judgmental eyes, I’d have arrived a lot sooner." With another sweet smile, he turned and made his way to the hotel entrance.

"Okay, now where do I meet my visitor?" Charles looked around before stepping inside, carrying nothing but his phone and wallet in his pocket. He approached the receptionist and greeted her warmly.

"I booked a room online—the highest floor," he informed her, scrolling through his phone for the confirmation.

"Oh, I see. I don’t think I show any rooms booked..." she began, ready to turn him away.

But Charles flashed his screen right in front of her. Room 654.

Embarrassed by her haste, the lady apologized and handed him the keycard.

"Thank you, girl. Next time, don’t be so quick to judge," he said smoothly and headed off. Today seemed to be full of handing out motivational speeches—everyone was either judging him too fast or looking down on him. But he wasn’t the docile person he used to be. He’d returned different—someone who wouldn’t take shit from people who thought they were better.

Entering the elevator, he reached his floor and stepped into a glamorous hallway.

Damn, what a luxurious palace.

He wasn’t stupid—a place like this cost a fortune. If he’d paid for it himself, he’d be indebted for the rest of his life. Thankfully, a stranger’s kindness had covered it. Whoever this guy was, he wasn’t just rich—he was swimming in riches.

Shanghai Hotel was one of the world’s most famous establishments, known not just for its global branches but for its customer service and exclusivity. It was breathtakingly expensive, stunningly beautiful, and fiercely private. What happened inside stayed inside—a haven for those with discreet business. Charles didn’t know all the details, but he was ready to enjoy it anyway.

Finding his room, he swiped the card. The door swung open.

He gasped at the extravagance before him. Beauty didn’t do it justice. He fell straight back onto the bed, staring at the ceiling, then checked his phone to see if the guy had canceled.

No messages.

Well, don’t be paranoid. It’s your first time—just breathe and go with it.

The doorbell rang.

He jumped up, checked the monitor, and saw a man dressed in all white standing at the entrance.

"Well... here goes nothing."

He adjusted his clothes, pulled the door open, and gasped.

Oh, fuck. Is this him?

His eyes traveled down the man’s body—from his broad chest, lower, all the way to his feet—then back up to his face. For a moment, Charles forgot to breathe.

The man looked familiar. Hazel eyes, a pointed nose, pink lips, dark hair, a symmetrical face—perfection itself.

This was definitely his night.