Page 12 of Retribution
“Yes, Mr. Reid,” Ursula Taylor murmurs, standing. “I apologize if my words are slightly choppy. The truth is you’re a little overwhelming in real life.”
“I’m just a normal person,” I reassure her. “I’ve spent hours in front of test samples before, feeling the frustration when things don’t go to plan. And then I’ve started over. Tell me how it is, please.”
And so she does. The tests are showing that it is possible to unravel the bonds of the person who may be dying so thatthe others in the pack won’t feel the heartache of their death. It doesn’t touch anything else as bonds become part of someone’s genetic makeup, which is why alphas can go feral when apart from their omegas.
Mate bonds are complex, but this appears to work. It’s a shot that is simple, and will be kept under wraps the way a hospital would a controlled substance.
“I have concerns,” Ursula says tentatively as the researcher next to her winces. It looks like they’ve argued about this before.
“The floor is yours,” I say magnanimously. “I mean it. I have a feeling that I may know some semblance of what your concerns are, but I would never be so arrogant as to assume.”
Ursula has been working for my company in research and development for the past six months, but as the CEO, we’ve never met before. People make assumptions about others every day. It seems to be human nature.
“It’s just…Mr. Reid, this research in the wrong hands could be very dangerous,” she finally says.
“Every person working on this has a non disclosure agreement, and while I appear understanding, I don’t have any issues burying anyone who deigns to fuck with me or this research,” I growl. “Legally bury, that is. Though, I have a feeling that those who cross me would rather I actually kill them.”
“What Mr. Reid is trying to say,” one of my lawyers says with a slight wince, “is that all of the extra measures of security around everything that we do is because we understand how important it is that the medications we’re developing stay under wraps until it’s ready for the public. Even then, some of our formulas have to remain tightly controlled.”
“That’s all well and good, but I would almost prefer if Mr. Reid meant actually killing people,” Ursula huffs.
Ah, if she only knew the lengths I’m willing to go to for things. My lips curl up in a predatory manner and she gazesat me for a long moment before seeming to make up her mind about something.
“Caution is going to be really important for this,” she finally says. “In the wrong hands, auction houses could use this medication to break bonded omegas from their packs to sell them. The devastation caused by this could be huge.”
“And those are the things that run through my own mind as well,” I reassure her. “The knowledge that I could help someone who is in a toxic relationship due to the bond or one where their mate is dying so that they’re not dragged into death as well is heady. Not in a megalomaniac type of way, that’s not why I got into this business.”
“I wouldn’t be here if you had,” she says honestly. “I want to know what types of security you plan for this.”
I explain to her how they’ll have to be signed out, and that the policy will be reminiscent of biohazardous materials. The doctor who wants to administer it will have to contact the person above them, and then they’ll need to contact us. It may seem like a lot of hoops to jump through, but I plan to have a dedicated person to take these calls.
“Can you make sure that person understands the ramifications of this medication?” Ursula asks. “There’s no magic wand to take it back. It’s permanent.”
“Yes, I can,” I promise. “I have some names that I can think of right now. They all have a science and research background but chose to work on the corporate side of things for Reid Pharmaceuticals. Now, if there’s nothing else, I’ll head out to work on this list with my assistant. I would like two people on this. No matter which person is called, they’ll need to coordinate together to decide if it’s the best option. It sounds like a lot of steps, but if the doctors act appropriately, it can be decided in a matter of minutes.”
“That’s more than most people would do,” Ursula murmurs. “Thank you.”
Inclining my head to her, I walk out of the board room to do exactly what I told her I’d do.
Three hours later, I’m ready to go home. Paula and I have chosen people to be our fail safe, we’ve gone over all important issues that she’s needed me for, and I’ve missed lunch.
“You look grumpy,” Grant murmurs, walking beside me. My mood is largely at odds with the cheerful decorations and lights on the buildings heralding that Christmas is coming soon, but I’m too hungry to care.
“I’m starving,” I counter.
“Why didn’t Paula get you lunch?” he asks, surprised.
“We both lost track of time. It’s not her fault. She got excited that I came to the office twice in one week and had a lot to tell me. There were also contracts to sign.”
“Ah,” he grunts, walking out onto the sidewalk with me. “I’m going to drop you off at Angus’ Sub shop and call your car. The accident looks as if it’s been cleared now.”
My stomach is loud as it complains, and Grant chuckles.
“Sounds like your stomach is on board.”
“It’s eating itself,” I grumble, walking with him to my favorite sandwich shop in the city. “I’m terrible company at the moment.”
“Go eat,” Grant says, amused as he opens the door for me.
