Page 111 of The Sterling Acquisition
“I imagine especially for someone with your... background,” Elena said, her eyes flicking briefly to the bite mark on his neck.
The subtle reference to his claimed status sent a jolt through Dante. He wasn’t used to being the object of interest rather than the observer. Here, among people who existed outside designation hierarchies, that status meant nothing.
Except that wasn’t true anymore, was it? According to Tallulah, he wasn’t just an Alpha now. He was a claimed Alpha. Bound toan Omega through a biological process that supposedly rewrote the power dynamics he’d taken for granted his entire life.
The conversation continued, polite but probing, and Dante became increasingly aware that he was failing some kind of social interaction he didn’t understand the rules for. The people seemed to be talking just to... talk. For pleasure.
He caught fragments—”...never seen anything like...“ and “...Granny Lu said...” and “...forty years since...”
Across the room, he could see Orion engaged in what looked like a careful conversation with a group of younger Nulls. They were asking him questions too, but with the same cautious curiosity. Whatever had them all so interested, they weren’t ready to ask about it.
Something warm and possessive flared in Dante’s chest as he watched Orion navigate the social minefield with surprising grace. The defensive tension that held his shoulders rigid was present but muted, replaced by watchful alertness rather than aggressive readiness.
“He’s adapting well,” Lilac said, appearing beside him with the kind of stealth of a trained operative. She followed his gaze to Orion. “Not everyone takes to Null life easily, ¿sabes?”
“He’s not adapting,” Dante said, then paused as he realized the truth of his own words. “He’s remembering. This is probably the first time he’s been somewhere he doesn’t have to fight just to exist.”
The thought hit him harder than it should have.
“You’re thinking very loudly over there,” Lilac observed, her tone amused but not intrusive.
“Just processing some... career revelations,” Dante said dryly.
“I bet,” Lilac replied, her scarred face creasing with a knowing smile. “Figuring out your whole life’s been built on corporate lies will do that to a person.”
Lilac nodded toward where Tallulah sat holding court at the far end of the room, surrounded by what looked like the community’s elders. “See how they’re watching you? You and your boy represent something important to these people. Something they haven’t seen in a long time.”
Around them, the careful observation continued—people stealing glances, conversations that stopped and started, the sense of being at the center of something significant that no one was quite ready to name.
A burst of laughter from Orion’s direction caught his attention, and Dante found himself smiling at the sound. When was the last time he’d heard Orion laugh like that? Open and unguarded, without the sharp edge of hysteria or defiance that usually colored his amusement?
Never, his mind supplied unhelpfully. He’d never heard Orion laugh like that.
I have to protect that at all costs.
Chapter thirty-nine
Focus Group
Dante
Dantehadalwaysbeenan early riser. Getting up before anyone else was awake was calming for him, simply because it meant he always knew what to expect by being the most alert. He expected to hear the birds waking up and chirping while he went over a notepad filled with insane ideas for his future. What he hadn’t expected was to find himself making coffee at five in the morning while watching Lilac attempt to sneak back into her own house.
Attemptbeing the operative word. For someone with apparent military training, she was making about as much noise as a drunk elephant. Dante took a sip of his coffee and observed with growing amusement as she tried to ease the front door closed without making it creak.
“Rough night?” he asked when she turned around and spotted him in the kitchen doorway.
Lilac jumped, then had the grace to look embarrassed. “Ay, Dios mío. I thought you’d still be sleeping.”
“Corporate conditioning,” Dante said dryly. “Early to rise, early to optimize, early to generate shareholder value. You know how it is.”
She moved into the kitchen, attempting to smooth down hair that looked like it had been thoroughly mussed by enthusiastic fingers. Her eyeliner was smudged, and she had that particular dreamy, well-satisfied expression that Dante recognized from a mile away.
“I was just, uh...” Lilac gestured vaguely toward the door. “There were a lot of pheromones flying around here yesterday, ¿sabes? Figured I’d be a considerate host and give you two some privacy.”
“Considerate,” Dante repeated, taking in her rumpled clothes and the faint flush still coloring her cheeks. “That’s one way to describe it. Though I have to say, you look remarkably well-rested for someone who spent the night being considerate. Must have been some fantastic romp in those disability-accessible sheets.”
Lilac’s eyes widened. “Who told you that?”
