Page 120 of The Sterling Acquisition
“Good thing you have an inexperienced assistant,” Orion said, stretching with the unselfconscious grace of someone who’d decided that modesty was a luxury they couldn’t afford. He grimaced as he rolled onto his back. “Jesus Christ, my ass is on fire. What the fuck is wrong with your brain?”
Dante grinned as he reached for his clothes. “I had a normal brain before I met you,” he said, appreciating the chaotic constellation of markings all over Orion’s body. “And you liked it, so your brain is just as fucked.”
“Shut up,” Orion grumbled, lazily reaching for his clothes as his face turned a bright shade of red.
“Feeling shy all of a sudden?” Dante asked, pulling on his pants.
“Don’t make me punch you.” Orion glared at him as he pulled on his boxers. “I’m going to be the one helping you get a chip out of your spine, you should probably be nicer to me.”
“I would, but you’re so fucking cute when you get all red like that.” Dante leaned forward and planted a kiss on his cheek.
Orion shoved him back. “Stop being a dumb horny Alpha and let’s get ready to permanently paralyze you.”
The implants were in three places—left forearm, right shoulder blade, and base of the neck. The first two, Dante could handle himself. The neck would require assistance.
“I can manage the arm and shoulder,” Dante said. “The neck one’s too close to the spinal column for me to reach.”
“Lucky for you, I have steady hands,” Orion replied, sorting through their medical supplies without any particular expertise. “How hard can it be?”
“Famous last words,” Dante breathed before taking a swig from a sketchy bottle of liquor Lilac had given them, the handwritten words “Surgical Lubricant” emblazoned on the label.
Dante began with the forearm, using the mirror to guide the scalpel with clinical precision. Years of tactical medicine made the procedure more tedious than difficult. The device came free—a sleek, thumbnail-sized disc with hair-thin filaments that had burrowed into his nervous system, now glistening under the harsh light.
The shoulder blade implant was more challenging due to the angle, requiring him to work mostly by feel while using the mirror forreference. The scalpel work was more complex, following the device’s connection to nerve clusters that Gensyn had used to monitor his emotional state and physical condition. This one was smaller but more sophisticated, with branching tendrils that had wrapped around his nerve endings like metallic ivy. The removal felt like peeling away a second skin, accompanied by a sharp, electric pain that shot down his arm.
“Two down,” he said, pressing gauze against the wound. The metallic smell of blood mixed with antiseptic filled the small bathroom. “Your turn.”
“The neck one,” Orion said, examining the third implant’s location. “Walk me through what I need to do.”
“It’s nestled against the cervical vertebrae,” Dante explained, positioning himself on a kitchen chair and tilting his head forward. “Close enough to the spinal column that a millimeter in the wrong direction could result in permanent damage. Follow my instructions. No improvisation.”
“Got it,” Orion said, picking up the scalpel and testing its weight like he might test any unfamiliar tool. “You ready?”
Dante closed his eyes and focused on controlled breathing. “Do it.”
The final cut was the worst and the best simultaneously. Worst because Orion had to make three separate attempts to locate the device, each guided by Dante’s strained instructions. The sensation of metal probing near his spine sent waves of nausea through him, the vulnerable position requiring more trust than he’d ever given anyone. Each attempt produced a sickening scrape that resonated through his skull, followed by the warm trickle of blood down his neck.
Best because it represented the final severance of his connection to Gensyn’s monitoring systems—the last piece of corporate control being cut out of his body by someone whose surgical techniquewas based entirely on instructions given between swigs of liquor that burned almost as much as the scalpel.
“Got it,” Orion said, and Dante could hear the relief in his voice even through the haze of pain. “I think. Is this thing supposed to have wires attached?”
“Those are nerve connectors,” Dante managed through gritted teeth. “They’ll dissolve once disconnected from the power source. Bio-organic interface technology.”
“Good, because I have no idea what to do with them.” Orion was holding the device with the satisfaction of someone who’d just successfully defused a bomb through pure stubbornness. This final implant was the most complex of the three—a sleek capsule with pulsing blue indicators that were already fading as its connection to Dante’s nervous system died. “All three successfully removed. You’re officially invisible to corporate surveillance.”
Dante sat still for a moment, waiting for the initial shock to fade before attempting to move. When he stood up, Orion was holding all three devices in his palm—small, dark pieces of technology that had been part of his body for so long he’d forgotten what it felt like to exist without them.
“How do you feel?”
Dante considered the question. His body ached, and underneath was something else—a profound disconnection, as if he’d gone deaf in one ear. The implants had provided constant feedback for so long that their absence felt like sensory deprivation.
“Wrong,” he said. “Unmoored. Like part of my nervous system is missing.”
It was deeply uncomfortable, invasive in a way he hadn’t anticipated. But when he looked at Orion—sharp-eyed and satisfied with their success—he knew it was worth the discomfort. Whatever thisdisconnected feeling was, it was the price of keeping Orion away from corporate evaluation rooms and forced bonding protocols.
“That’ll probably last a while,” Orion said, not unsympathetically as he applied antiseptic and bandages to the back of Dante’s neck. “Your body’s been relying on those things for years. It’s going to take time to adjust to existing without corporate oversight.”
Dante turned around after the last bandage went into place and smiled at Orion. “You did a good job,” he said, snaking his arm around Orion’s back and pulling him close. “Thank you.”
