Page 30 of The Sterling Acquisition
This is how it starts. This is how Alphas convince Omegas that dependency is a choice.
“My options being various forms of ownership.”
“Your options being realistic responses to your current situation.” Dante moved closer, but not close enough to feel threatening. Yet. “Leo will be back eventually. Dr. Morrison’s timeline hasn’t changed. Tomorrow is going to bring the same problems whether you spend tonight in a cage or on a couch.”
“And you’re offering the couch out of purely altruistic motives.”
“I’m offering the couch because you deserve one night of not sleeping on a shitty mattress in a locked room.” Dante’s tone was matter-of-fact. “Whether you choose to see that as altruism or strategy is up to you.”
The honesty was more devastating than any pretty lie would have been. Because it acknowledged the complexity of the situation without trying to pretend the offer was purely selfless.
He wants something from you. But he’s also not wrong about you deserving basic dignity.
“One night,” Orion said, weighing his options with cold precision. A night in Dante’s apartment meant vulnerability—sleeping in an Alpha’s territory was risky, especially after what had just happenedagainst the wall. But it also meant information gathering, a chance to study his potential escape route, and most importantly, hours outside that cage.
Freedom, even temporary, was a tactical advantage he couldn’t afford to reject. And if Dante tried anything while he slept, well—Orion had survived worse. He grew up learning to sleep with one eye open.
“On the couch. And if you try anything—”
“You’ll bite me again.” Dante’s smile was unrepentant. “I’m looking forward to it.”
The response was unsettling; an Alpha who welcomed resistance rather than punishing it. Another piece of the puzzle that didn’t fit Orion’s experience.
Information. Everything is information you can use later.
“Fine,” he said. “One night. But this doesn’t change anything between us.”
“Doesn’t it?” Dante asked softly.
And as Orion looked at him—at the blood seeping through his shirt, at the satisfied expression, at the way he was looking at Orion like he’d just confirmed something important—he had the sinking feeling that everything had, in fact, irrevocably changed.
Whether he was ready for it or not.
Chapter nine
Corporate Swag
Orion
OrionsatonDante’scouch and stared at the blank wall across from him, trying to process what had just happened while fiddling with a soft Gensyn-branded blanket.
His body still hummed with aftershocks, the ghost of Dante’s touch lingering on his skin like branded fingerprints. His wrists bore faint red marks where they’d been pinned above his head, and his lips felt swollen though Dante hadn’t even kissed him. The suppressants kicked in fully, dulling the worst of the pre-heat symptoms, but they couldn’t erase the memory of Dante’s hands on him, couldn’t undo the way he fell apart against that wall like every defense he built meant nothing.
You enjoyed it.
The thought kept circling back, unwelcome and undeniable. Not just the physical pleasure—though that had been devastating enough—but the fight itself. The way Dante met his resistance withconfidence instead of frustration. The way he seemed toenjoyOrion’s defiance instead of trying to crush it.
The drugs dampened physical responses without clouding judgment, which meant he couldn’t blame his thoughts on hormonal influence. This clarity was the worst part—knowing what happened and how deeply he responded to it.
That’s fucked up. You’re fucked up for wanting that.
But he did want it. That was the problem. Seven years of fighting his biology, of resisting every Alpha who tried to claim him, and the first one who knew what he was doing reduced him to a shaking mess in minutes.
And Dante knew it. That satisfied smile, the way he looked at Orion like he’d just solved a particularly interesting puzzle—it made Orion want to hit him and kiss him in equal measure.
Kiss him? Christ, listen to yourself.
Orion ran his hands through his hair, trying to focus on something other than the lingering scent of tea and cherries that seemed to cling to everything in this apartment. But even that reminded him of how Dante smelled when his corporate mask shattered—hungrier, more primal, focused on taking what he wanted.
