Page 2 of The Sterling Acquisition
The crowd lost its collective mind. Someone started applauding. The person with the folding chair stood up for a better view. Leo made a sound like a deflating balloon.
Leo’s head snapped up, his face cycling through recognition, mortification, and desperate professionalism in the span of two seconds. “Mr. Ashford! You’re... early. This is just a minor... security incident.”
“I can see that,” Dante said, offering Leo a hand up while trying not to stare at the way Orion moved as he rolled to his feet. “Perhaps we should continue this conversation somewhere more private?”
“Yes! Absolutely. Just need to—” Leo made another grab for Orion’s chain and missed entirely. “Orion, I swear to Christ, if you make me look bad in front of—”
Orion cut him off by deliberately sitting down in the middle of the courtyard and crossing his legs in the universal gesture of complete non-compliance. His eyes never left Dante’s face, like he was solving a complex equation.
The crowd started offering helpful suggestions.
“Just drag him, Leo!”
“My cousin’s got a tranq gun you could borrow!”
Leo’s face was approaching the color of the faded SVI banner. “This isn’t... he’s normally much more secure than this. I don’t know how he keeps getting out. The behavioral compliance protocols should prevent—”
“Mr. James,” Dante said quietly, “perhaps I could assist?”
The words were out before he could stop them, which was unusual. Dante prided himself on careful consideration before speaking. But something about this entire situation—the casual cruelty of the crowd, Leo’s pathetic desperation, and Orion’s magnificent defiance—that knocked him off center.
Leo’s relief was palpable. “Would you? I mean, if you have experience with difficult assets...”
Without any fanfare, Dante strolled behind Orion and got to a knee, catching his arm and twisting it up behind his back at an angle that was uncomfortable but not quite painful. Yet.
“It’s time to stand up,” Dante murmured, his lips ghosting a few inches from the Omega’s ear so only Orion could hear. His grip tightened—a clear warning of how easily he could dislocate the shoulder if he chose to. “And stop making a scene.”
Orion’s scent hit him like a full-body slap—storm winds, ozone, and something unexpectedly sweet like marshmallow that made every suppressed instinct sit up and demand attention. It was intoxicating. Nothing like the sanitized, controlled pheromones he was used to in Gensyn territory.
For a moment, Orion didn’t move. Then, just as Dante was about to apply more pressure, the Omega tilted his head back, exposing the long line of his throat until his head rested back against Dante’s shoulder and the metal of his muzzle knocked against Dante’s cheek.Is he trying to scent me in public? In front of his Alpha?
“I could have broken your wrist just now,” Orion whispered, voice low and certain. “I won’t be so nice next time.” He slowly got to his feet, not because Dante forced him, but because he chose to allow it.
“There we go,” Dante said, stepping back as he tried to bring his heart rate down, but he felt like he was suffocating on Orion’s scent. His implants should have triggered their receptive scent suppression by now. “Much better.”
He released Orion’s arm and stepped back around to Leo, but not before he caught the way those stunning eyes tracked him with something that looked almost curious.
The crowd shifted closer, drawn by the novelty of watching someone succeed with Leo’s “impossible” Omega. Money changed hands as fresh bets were placed, and someone whistled in appreciation.
Leo stared at Dante with something approaching awe. “How did you... I mean, he never just...does what he is told.”
He looked up at Dante with those devastating amber eyes, calculating new variables with sharp intelligence. “Well, well,” Orion said, his tone rougher than before but carrying genuine curiosity. “Corporate authority with actual skill. Didn’t see that coming.”
His gaze flicked over Dante’s expensive suit and perfect posture, less disdain now and more... interest. Before Dante could respond, Orion turned back to Leo, his voice taking on that flat, vicious edge again. “See that, Leo? Your corporate boyfriend here knows what he’s doing. Maybe you should take notes.”
Even defeated and restrained, the Omega was using this moment to drive the knife deeper into Leo’s pride. There was an undeniable intelligence behind those furious eyes.
And that scent...
Leo’s face progressed from red to an alarming shade of purple. “Orion, please, just... Mr. Ashford is here for the vaccine collaboration project, and—”
“I don’t give a shit why he’s here,” Orion snapped, turning his gaze to the gathered crowd. “Fuck all of you! Fuck your bets! You think this is funny?”
Most Omegas in SVI territories Dante had been to would have been cowed by now, beaten into submission. This one was turning the whole thing into theater, making everyone—Leo, the crowd, even Dante himself—part of his show.
“Mr. James,” Dante said, “I suggest we move this along.”
Orion’s attention snapped to him, the full weight of that furious energy making Dante’s pulse quicken despite himself.
