Perfect Omega Chapter 3.2 - Someone Slightly Strange

“This is self-harm. Even though our company’s medications have fewer side effects, all medications have them. You’ve been taking suppressants unnecessarily for far too long. Every time I write you a prescription, my professional ethics are abused along with your body.”

“…I’ll keep that in mind.”

Despite saying that, Owen had no intention of giving up his safeguards.

🥀

Before Owen got off work, everyone who took care of his house had left. However, this didn’t mean the lights were off or the temperature was unregulated.

The house he entered now was just as he left it. Everything was the same as always. The entrance lights greeted Owen with a warm glow. The indoor air, maintained at the same temperature and humidity year-round, was unchanged.

Still, a sense of unease lingered, making Owen pause at the entrance.

“Ah…!”

He only realized what was different when the scent tickled his nose.

The smell of freshly cooked food wafted faintly even to the entrance.

Magie’s prepared meals were always good. A warm, full-course dinner made with high-quality ingredients every time. But Magie never allowed the smell of food to linger in the house. Owen didn’t know if this was a difference in timing or cooking method.

Perhaps allowing the smell to permeate the house like this would have been a shameful act for Magie. Because Magie always set the table silently and without a trace, as if she had conjured the meal out of thin air.

Owen had always only seen the finished product, slightly cooled in temperature and flavor, but visually impeccable.

“Owen.”

And the presence of this man was also different.

Before he even registered the arms wrapping around his waist, a welcoming kiss brushed against his cheek. His leather bag, containing a few belongings, had somehow transferred from his hand to Nick’s.

“I’ll take this. Should I bring it to your study?”

The day was long, so it wouldn’t have been difficult for Nick to figure out the layout of the house. Owen had told him to feel free to go anywhere, as there were no forbidden areas.

“Stairs? Or the elevator?”

The arms around his waist patiently awaited Owen’s decision.

“The stairs. The staff use the elevator more often. They have to move heavy things and carry a lot of luggage.”

“Ah, I thought so.”

Nick, who had accompanied him to the second floor, left Owen at the bedroom door.

“Our Magie is quite capable.”

Only his voice could be heard from the direction of the study.

Owen agreed that Magie was competent, but he only understood Nick’s meaning as he entered the bedroom.

He didn’t need to lift the neatly arranged bedsheet to know the mattress was new. Even with the pressure of supplying Rose Mansion, they couldn’t produce something out of nothing. Unless they had spares stored in a warehouse somewhere, Magie’s competence sometimes required a touch of imagination.

“He worked very hard to prepare dinner for your arrival.”

Nick entered the bedroom silently and turned Owen around. His now-free hands firmly embraced Owen’s waist. Owen expected a kiss, but Nick’s approaching face stopped a short distance away.

“Nick…?”

“Just a moment.”

Owen already knew Nick had a loud voice, but he suddenly whispered. He lowered his tall frame slightly and met Owen’s eyes. He was looking into Owen’s eyes as if believing they were windows to the soul.

“….”

When he first became conscious of his appearance, Owen thought he liked it. He wasn’t sure if the word “preference” applied to oneself, but Owen’s features were to his liking. If there was an image he wanted to project, he felt twice a day, whenever he had the chance to look in the mirror, that he fit it perfectly.

Owen’s eyes were a rare, deep blue, but there were many people with eyes as blue as his. However, human eyes should typically appear different colors depending on the lighting. They should have a hint of green, or gray, or at least a different shade of blue.

But Owen’s eyes, like synthetic glass implants, always captured the same saturation on camera, whether under artificial or natural light, taken from a distance or from the side. That drew attention. The rumors about him wearing colored contacts were nothing, but the paparazzi calling out his name, trying to take pictures from various angles, were annoying.

When there’s only one unique and peculiar thing, it can become a defining characteristic. The words “how peculiar” could even sound like a compliment.

‘You’re a monster.’

Owen knew Aunt Sarah was somewhat out of her mind when she said those words. Even so, he couldn’t refute them. He never admitted in front of her that she was right, but he lowered his deep blue eyes, hoping she would stop looking at them, and averted his gaze.

‘Icy eyes is the perfect description.’

The alpha, who turned away saying his eyes made him feel cold, was actually just venting his frustration at Owen’s refusal to schedule another meeting. Owen knew that too. He knew, but knowing didn’t prevent the hurt. Words, once heard, never truly disappear.

“Don’t look away, show me a little more, Owen. I know they’re expensive eyes, but…”

He had lowered his eyes out of habit, triggered by the resurfaced memories, but Nick’s hand stopped him. He held Owen’s chin, preventing him from turning his head. Instead of the word “peculiar,” which should be reserved for circus performers, he used the words “mysterious” and “beautiful.”

“Like a fairy from a fairytale.”

“….”

“I must hold on tight. So you don’t fly away.”

A chuckle, not quite proper, escaped Nick’s lips.

“I suppose three children would be heavy enough to keep you from even thinking about flying away.”

The absurd turn of events made the heavy memories that had just surfaced seem to vanish.

“I’m a little worried about what kind of fairytales you’ve been reading, Nick.”

“Well… probably books written back when kidnapping maidens was romanticized. Don’t worry. I can make that distinction. I’ll carefully select fairytales that won’t negatively influence our children’s values.”

“….”

Once again, Owen was at a loss for where to begin correcting Nick, so he remained silent. Also, Nick’s story itself felt like a fairytale, making it hard for Owen to interject.

“Can I ask what you’re staring at so intently?”

Nick, finding it strange that Owen just stared at him without a word, broke the silence.

“…I was just thinking that brown hair and green eyes are a very warm combination.”

It was an honest expression of his feelings, but also admittedly cheesy. Nevertheless, Nick simply returned a smile without any other response.

Emboldened, Owen placed his palm on Nick’s jaw. It was a bit rougher than it looked.

“Does your beard grow back by this time of day?”

It was a phenomenon Owen didn’t experience, so he curiously moved his palm around. The corners of Nick’s lips curved upwards.

“Yes, I shave again in the evening sometimes. It’s no trouble, so tell me if it bothers you. I can do it before you come home.”

“No, it’s fine. Don’t do that. I… I don’t mind it.”

As he answered, Owen’s palm continued to linger around Nick’s jaw like a child who had discovered something fascinating.

“I’ll just leave my luggage that your secretary prepared upstairs. I didn’t see any empty space here.”

“Ah….”

Suddenly, reality snapped back into focus. Owen removed his palm, which had been playfully exploring Nick’s face. As if scolding himself to stop playing around, he clasped his hands in front of his waist.

“Nick, you don’t have to sleep here.”

Nick’s upturned lips slowly returned to their normal position. With the smile gone, Nick Stockton’s face looked a little stern. Just as Owen was about to say he was starting to feel intimidated, Nick finally spoke again.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“Don’t misunderstand. I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Then why are you trying to chase me away?”

Nick’s hands had been holding Owen’s waist with a comfortable amount of pressure. The gently placed grip suddenly tightened.

“I mean, you must be used to sleeping alone for a long time, and you’ll need your own space if you’re staying for a while. Also… you need to sleep comfortably.”

Nick’s narrowed eyes seemed to pierce through Owen, as if trying to discern his true intentions. Nick Stockton’s face, when not smiling, did seem a bit harsh. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Nick spoke again.

“I wasn’t planning on doing it that way.”

He didn’t sound angry, but he didn’t seem pleased either.

“I didn’t mean anything else by it.”

“I know. I just heard what you meant. Still, I would prefer if we slept together. If you continue to lose sleep because of me, then I’ll have to give you space. It will be uncomfortable at first. For both of us. But we might adapt to the new environment faster than we think, don’t you think?”

With him saying that, Owen couldn’t say he had brought it up out of consideration for Nick.

“…Okay.”

“Are you going to change your clothes?”

“Ah, I’ll do that later.”

But as if the answer wasn’t necessary, Nick’s hands moved first. He began unbuttoning Owen’s shirt, one button at a time.

“Beautiful color.”

Nick slipped a hand inside the opened shirt. He slightly lifted the fabric to peek inside. Owen blushed, knowing what was visible from that angle.

“They’re pointed.”

“…Because the ambient temperature suddenly changed.”

His skin contracted as the open shirt let in the outside air. And nipples can’t become pointed.

Owen covered the open collar, but Nick didn’t remove his hand.

“I made you cold. I’m sorry.”

Not only did he not remove his hand, but his soft fingertips slowly rubbed the area he had just complimented. He lightly twisted and pinched, then gently smoothed it again.

“Ah….”

Owen’s lips parted involuntarily. The lips that he had expected to meet his when Nick first turned him around finally descended and touched his. The mischievous fingers were still inside Owen’s shirt.

“…Didn’t you say you did something to be on time for dinner?”

“You shouldn’t have touched my jaw like that, Owen, if you were going to bring that up.”

Owen had touched it because it was a novelty, something he didn’t have.

The alphas Owen had met were all well-groomed; none possessed the raw quality that Nick did. They probably didn’t even manage their own grooming, so they probably knew as little about their own hair texture as Owen did.

“That’s…”

“Owen, Owen.”

Stopping Owen’s explanation, the fingers that had been teasing his nipples wandered inside his shirt and down to his waist. Owen wasn’t sure if the term “dexterous” could be used in this context, but Nick was incredibly skilled at touching him pleasurably while talking.

“Are you going to tell me you didn’t know what would happen if you touched me?”

Owen’s hand was now on top of Nick’s trousers, guided there by the dexterous one.

“…!”

Under his involuntarily placed palm, he felt Nick’s clearly erect penis. Shamelessly, Nick was making Owen stroke him over his trousers, mirroring Owen’s earlier caress of his jaw.

“Did you really not know? Owen… Oh, Owen. Did you think nothing would happen when you touched me like that for so long with your own hands? How old do you think I am?”

He didn’t give Owen a chance to answer. Nick’s lips crashed against his, rough and demanding. After ravaging his mouth, he pulled back with a groan.

“Ha… Nick.”

Owen thought he had pulled back, but soft brown hair tickled his chin.

If Nick had said it was pointed again this time, Owen wouldn’t have been able to deny it. Nick took the aroused nipple fully into his mouth and sucked. It didn’t hurt; on the contrary, it only heightened the pleasure.

He knew nipples were erogenous zones, but he hadn’t known he’d have the strange desire to keep them in this man’s mouth. He realized he was gripping Nick’s head with both hands, as if to prevent him from escaping, only when Nick pulled away.

Facing each other again, Nick’s hair was disheveled. He took both of Owen’s hands in one of his and undid his belt buckle.

“You know how to touch me, Owen.”

Then he guided Owen’s hand inside his opened trousers. Entwined like this, they slowly walked towards the bed. The moment Owen saw the front of Nick’s underwear starting to dampen, he knew he couldn’t stop even if he told Nick to. Nick’s lips nuzzled against his forehead.

It felt like they walked for a long time like that, but finally, their legs touched the edge of the bed. They collapsed together.

From then on, Nick’s hands were even faster. A single finger slid down between his buttocks and entered easily.

“Hngh… Nick, wait. Wait a moment.”

With one finger inside, Nick raised his head. His eyes were filled with impatient questioning.

“We can’t do it like yesterday.”

Owen caught his breath and clearly conveyed what he needed to say.

“Yesterday, I was in heat… and you were probably stimulated because of it, but we can’t do that normally.”

Last night, Nick had knotted him. Roughly, at that. As if admitting it, Nick blushed slightly around his cheekbones and nodded.

“I’m sorry. It’s an excuse, but if I have to make one, I really did lose my mind the moment I smelled your scent. I won’t do it without your consent from now on.”

“….”

It was hard to believe, but also hard not to believe, considering the strange heat that had swept through them last night.

“If it’s alright, can I continue now?”

As Owen nodded in agreement, the finger inside him curled and stirred.

“Ah….”

“Ah, you like this.”

He hadn’t known he liked such rough movements. Before he could fully process it, two of Nick’s fingers entered at once.

Using both hands now, one long finger found the sensitive spot inside while the other, with its knuckle bent, stretched him open. Sometimes it was one knuckle, sometimes two. With three fingers moving in alternating patterns, multiple points were stimulated simultaneously.

“Hngh!”

He hadn’t realized that having the knuckles bent felt better than just inserting fingers. More… filling.

A whimper. Two fingers with bent knuckles were hooked at the entrance, pumping. A whimper. He wondered where that embarrassing sound was coming from, surely not from him, but the area beneath his buttocks was wet. A whimper. Another whimper. With lewd sounds, the fluids that had pooled inside spurted out with Nick’s pumping fingers.

“Ah….”

Had his entrance always been this sensitive? This man, he seemed too good at this.

“Owen.”

At some point, Nick’s face had moved right above his lips.

“Won’t you release your scent?”

“That’s…”

As usual, Owen was consciously suppressing his scent.

“Show me proof that I’ve aroused you.”

Nick’s lips nibbled on his earlobe.

“Show me that I’m not the only one like this.”

Nick’s bare waist, already stripped at some point, pressed against his lower abdomen. His swollen penis ground against Owen’s belly, the pressure almost crushing. The size he felt against his heaving stomach was immense. Even if he wanted to lower his head to confirm, Nick’s body held him tightly, leaving no space.

His damp buttocks seemed proof enough that Nick wasn’t the only one aroused, but Nick demanded pheromones as evidence.

“Owen. Release your pheromones.”

Despite Nick’s plea, Owen kept his pheromones firmly locked away.

“Su…suppressants.”

Saying that the suppressants made it difficult was a lie Owen had used his whole life, but it was a lie he couldn’t avoid.

“That’s… truly disappointing.”

Saying that, Nick released his pheromones over Owen.

“Hngh… Nick.”

He had been missing the feeling of Nick’s fingers inside him.

The moment he inhaled Nick’s pheromones, his insides reacted even before he did. A gush of hot fluid flowed from within, down past the entrance and along his buttocks. Another gush followed, this time flowing towards his thighs.

“Nick…?”

“Yes… Owen.”

Nick’s gaze was fixed on the area below Owen’s buttocks. He seemed to be admiring the traces of arousal that spilled out with each breath.

“Put… put it in. Now. Anything.”

His composure was irritating, but Owen was on the verge of being overwhelmed by Nick’s pheromones again.

His entrance was so sensitive. Fingers or anything, please just put something inside.

His tongue felt heavy, so he writhed his hips in urgency. Nick, who had been leisurely releasing his pheromones and observing Owen’s reaction, finally moved.

His ankles were caught. His legs were spread wide, and Nick moved between them. Nick’s hands lifted and held Owen’s buttocks, needlessly spreading them wide open.

“Anything, Owen? Just because a few fingers pleased you a little, it doesn’t mean you’ve forgotten what belongs here.”

Then, without warning, Nick’s penis thrust inside, roughly pushing against Owen’s inner walls.

“Hngh!”

His insides quivered deeply. Nick was right. Nick’s penis should have been here. This far. No, deeper.

“More… Hngh, more!”

Owen’s fingers dug into Nick’s shoulders, as if to claw him. Nick ignored it and pounded his hips, thrusting into every corner.

“Ah… Ugh!”

Owen even thought his stomach might be pierced. He wondered if it was dangerous to feel like this every time they had sex, but the problem was that he didn’t dislike the rough sex.

Owen wrapped his arms around Nick’s moving back. He dug his fingers in, clinging on to avoid slipping on the sweat-slicked muscles. His heels, lifted in the air, bumped against Nick’s muscular buttocks and fell back down. It felt like a whip urging him not to stop. This wasn’t like him….

“Hot… Haah! Good… Good!”

The fierce thrusting suddenly stopped. Nick’s back shuddered.

He seemed to have cum, but did semen usually feel this distinct…?

It felt like my insides had become dangerously hot.

Even so, I wanted to tell him not to leave yet, not to pull out while the heat hadn’t subsided, but as if he knew, Nick lay down on top of me, our bodies overlapping.

Mr. Nick Stockton, alpha down to his very hair, seemed to possess a penis that retained its form even after ejaculation. Every time Nick shifted to hold me closer, what was inside me twitched along, maintaining its weighty mass.

“Ha… Haah… Stay… Nick, please stay still.”

This wouldn’t end if he kept moving. Despite Owen’s plea, Nick, nestled inside him, continued his gentle movements, teasing his insides.

This man, the sex was good, but his aftercare was truly…

Owen tightened his embrace, holding Nick close as if to prevent him from detaching.

“Owen, can I ask you just one thing before we fall asleep?”

He heard Nick’s voice through his hazy consciousness.

“…I can’t fall asleep like this anyway.”

The spilled fluids seemed to act like glue, sticking his entire body to the bed.

He said he couldn’t sleep like this, but focusing on the slow movement of Nick’s fingers tracing his spine, he felt like he could drift off.

“How many children are you thinking of having?”

His drooping eyelids snapped open. Not completely, but halfway.

What did he just…?

As if unaware of Owen’s sudden alertness, Nick’s fingers continued their rhythmic movement. Tracing up his spine, then back down. The back of his hand brushed against Owen’s entire back, reaching his shoulders before slowly descending again, caressing each muscle. It felt like a lullaby sung by his hand.

He needed to tell Nick that he tended to go too far, but his back, which had started to feel a little cold as the sweat dried, suddenly warmed up. It felt like a thin blanket had been draped over him.

“Yes… just fall asleep. We’ll talk slowly. When you open your eyes, a refreshing and pleasant morning will begin.”

Instead of the imagined blanket, a warmer presence caressed his bare back. The lullaby sung by his hand continued until he drifted off to sleep.

🥀

Although he had been told to sleep, it was too early to sleep until morning. He knew he had woken up briefly, but he couldn’t clearly remember what had happened afterward.

Owen opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling. He didn’t need to get up and look around to know this was his room.

He lay still, staring at the ceiling, just blinking. Each time his eyelids closed and reopened, it was as if a switch was flipped, bringing back memories of the previous night one by one. Not completely, but in fragmented, incomplete forms.

He remembered thinking Nick’s touch was warm, then dozing off. He wished he had just stayed asleep. Nick kept bothering him, saying he couldn’t let him sleep on an empty stomach, so Owen pushed him away with his arm. Yes, he remembered that.

Nick lifted him up and… and insisted on putting something in his mouth. While naked.

No. That wasn’t it.

Owen, still lying down, turned his head from side to side, denying the distorted memory.

That image was too perverse; it had to be wrong.

Owen stopped his head-shaking denial, disguised as neck stretches, and lifted the hand that had been resting beside his thigh. He was wearing clothes.

That’s right.

He almost sighed in relief, but the dream sequence kept mixing with his memories, confusing him.

In his dream, he was struggling to climb on top of Nick’s stomach. Why? They had already been intimate to the point of exhaustion, so why? In the dream, Nick agreed to his plea in exchange for dinner in bed. And then, he really did feed him with his bare hands. Owen ate it ravenously, but it was less about eating the offered food and more about sucking on his fingers…

…No!

Owen shook his head rapidly and sat up in bed. He looked around, but there was no tray of food in sight. He was wearing clothes, and now that he looked, the mattress was dry. Different from the dream.

“You’re awake, Owen.”

While he was struggling to draw the line between dream and reality, Nick came upstairs. Although they hadn’t been together long, it seemed like Nick made almost no sound when he walked.

“Have some water first.”

Owen accepted the offered glass and took a sip. He hadn’t realized he was thirsty.

Nick, standing by the bed, looked as cheerful as yesterday.

“Slowly. Drink more. I came up because I was worried.”

“Worried about me?”

“Of course, I’m worried. I don’t know where your body produces so much fluid. It’s natural to be worried about dehydration when you spill so much every time.”

Owen barely managed to swallow the water in his mouth, preventing it from spraying out.

That meant being glued to the bed wasn’t a dream but a memory.

But then, the bed seemed too clean…

Owen confirmed the dry feeling under his palm once more.

“It’s a waterproof sheet. I’ve already experienced what happens when you’re aroused, so I had to be prepared. I can’t ask Magie to do this every time.”

“A waterproof sheet?”

He didn’t even know such a thing existed, but for something to be waterproof, the material should… shouldn’t it at least make a rustling sound? He pressed down on the mattress, trying to confirm the existence of this “waterproof sheet,” but he couldn’t tell.

“‘Enjoy a comfortable night without the slightest noise,’ it’s amazing how sometimes those advertisements are actually true.”

“…Did you do all of this yourself?”

He didn’t want to confirm the boundary between last night’s dream and reality. It wouldn’t be good for his mental health.

But he felt he had to ask if Nick had really changed him into pajamas, probably cleaned him up beforehand, and changed the sheets all by himself.

“Owen.”

Nick simply called his name and took the empty glass. He leaned down again, meeting Owen’s eyes, and a smile bloomed on his face, a kind Owen Rose had never seen before, and thus, couldn’t interpret.

“Water flows from between your legs. Slightly sticky water with a very pleasant scent, you cling to me, dripping. You tell me, hmm… or rather, you tell a certain part of my body how much you enjoy it, lifting your slick legs and rubbing them all over me. I’ve never experienced such a lewd temptation in my life. I want to kill the me from last night, lost between your legs, out of sheer envy. It’s an enchanting place.”

“….”

“But the mattress in this room is too expensive to replace after each of our passionate days and nights, or mornings. Not that I doubt your financial resources, but…”

“….”

Owen felt like he had just heard something incredibly vulgar. Yet, the person who had uttered those words looked perfectly nonchalant as he placed the empty glass on the table.

“It’s inefficient. Also, changing furniture requires outsiders to come and go. Owen, I don’t like having cleaning staff in our bedroom. So naturally, I do it.”

This time, he leaned in further and lifted Owen into his arms, placing him on the floor outside the bed. He kept a hand on Owen’s back, guiding him towards the bathroom door.

“Come down.”

He even kissed Owen’s cheek, as if they had just exchanged ordinary morning greetings.

🥀

“Nick, my morning routine has been disrupted since you arrived. I think we should refrain from weekday sex.”

The hand offering him coffee stopped mid-air.

“What do you mean, Owen? Did I do something wrong? But we didn’t even knot yesterday.”

He paused for a moment, seemingly searching his memory. He still gently placed the coffee cup in front of Owen.

“And we didn’t try any adventurous positions either.”

…! He didn’t know what Nick considered “adventurous,” but he decided he absolutely didn’t want to find out. Owen bit his inner lip to prevent any inappropriate questions from escaping.

“No. There’s nothing wrong. Actually, I’m quite satisfied.”

He felt shy after saying that. Owen raised the coffee cup to hide his face.

“Then what’s the problem?”

“I think it’s physically taking a toll on me. I’ve been oversleeping. I usually exercise in the morning, but I’ve been skipping it since you arrived.”

“I can help with that. I’ll wake you up. What time would be good?”

Nick casually suggested a solution, as if it wasn’t a problem at all.

“I’m saying I need to have enough energy left to exercise.”

Owen reiterated his point and reached for a pastry from the plate.

“You like croissants?”

Owen stopped tearing the pastry along its layers. The bread box contained several types of bread for breakfast, but it was true that he preferred croissants.

“Yes, how did you know?”

He briefly wondered if he had only picked up croissants yesterday and today, but he hadn’t.

This morning’s table was also lavishly set. But unlike yesterday, Nick only ate sparingly. He seemed more interested in sipping his coffee than in the food.

He did make a face of savoring the taste with each sip, but every time he did, his eyes met Owen’s.

“Owen, you… don’t know, do you?”

Owen paused, about to spread his favorite butter on the bite-sized piece of croissant.

“You’re saying I don’t know my own preferences? No, that’s not possible. I like them. I just told you.”

Despite Owen’s questioning tone, Nick didn’t answer. The corners of his lips just curved upwards. He looked even more amused than he had in the bedroom earlier.

Owen stopped waiting for an answer and popped the buttered croissant into his mouth.

“…What else do you like? For breakfast, I mean. Tell me. I’ll prepare it for you. Wouldn’t you like a warm meal? Now that I’m here, I can make breakfast for you.”

“I know.”

Owen replied shortly with a smile.

He had already witnessed Nick’s skills. He was far superior to Owen, who couldn’t even make a soft-boiled egg. Nick probably thought Owen had no choice but to eat cold bread due to his culinary incompetence. That wasn’t entirely untrue, but Owen simply liked croissants.

“I’ll consider it when the cold season returns. Freshly brewed coffee is enough for now.”

This man even seemed to brew coffee better than him. Even though they both just measured the ingredients and pressed a button.

“Alright then. Don’t hesitate to tell me anything, Owen.”

Having just swallowed his coffee, Owen simply nodded with a smile instead of replying.

“Ah, Nick. Wait a moment.”

Owen put down his coffee cup and rummaged through his bag on the chair. He almost forgot again today.

“Take this.”

He pulled out his credit card and handed it to Nick. He had told Ted to prepare it but had completely forgotten.

“Is this another way of saying you were satisfied with last night?”

Nick had an amused expression. Owen’s cheeks flushed slightly, even though Nick was clearly teasing him. It was because he had remembered after hearing about the waterproof sheet.

“No, it’s not that. You don’t have your wallet. Because of me.”

There was still no news about Nick’s bag that had fallen into the Hudson River. It was highly likely that it was gone for good.

“I prepared this yesterday, but I forgot. Use it freely until you find your bag or get a new card. Don’t worry about the details or the amount.”

Thanks to Nick’s teasing, it felt like his words were getting stranger, but even if it hadn’t been Nick, he would have done this much for the person who saved him that day. He wasn’t giving Nick the chairman’s card just because they were sharing a bed.

“Alright. I’ll put it to good use.”

Nick took the card without any fuss.

“Why are your cheeks red, Owen?”

“…You’re mischievous.”

An omega could be offended by being given a card. Especially since they had… become a serious couple. Fortunately, Nick’s self-esteem seemed healthier than that.

He would soon have to face alphas with less healthy mindsets. Today was the day of the unwelcome臨時 shareholder meeting. Owen stifled a sigh and finished the last of his coffee before standing up. He opened the locked cabinet and took out his usual pill tray.

“Hmm… do you take all of these?”

Nick approached with a glass of water and picked up one of the plastic containers. He seemed intrigued by the pills, taking each one out and examining it.

“Yes. I know. It’s a lot.”

“Hmm….”

Nick only replied with that and offered the glass of water.

🥀

—Aren’t you going to crack the safe?

“I already looked.”

He’d used a faster and safer method than replicating biometric authentication. He memorized all the brands in the tray while Owen was taking his pills.

—As expected, Boss. So?

Owen had been right. They were literally just health supplements. The kind commonly taken by omegas in their 20s and 30s, more for preventative measures than to address any specific health issues, according to his search. They were health foods that didn’t even require a prescription. Except for two.

“There’s no ‘so.’ There’s one thing I need to check.”

—What is it?

“There was one container with no label. He must have a prescription for it. Find out.”

—Find out? How am I supposed to get Rose’s prescription records?

“Don’t ask me how. You’re the expert.”

Despite his phrasing, Nick trusted his employees’ abilities. Otherwise, there was no point in dividing tasks, and if they couldn’t divide tasks, there was no point in expanding the company.

“Any updates?”

—About the police investigation. They seem to be concluding it was an attack by a religious zealot. Apparently, similar incidents have happened before. Boss’s omega is practically deified in the omega world, and even by some betas, but for that very reason, certain communities consider him demonic.

“Why?”

—It’s the price to pay for being the number one suppressant company, I guess.

“….”

Nick frowned.

Rose Pharmaceuticals was publicly recognized for its significant contributions to omega rights and welfare.

Thanks to suppressants, omegas who were unskilled in controlling their pheromones were protected from being manipulated by alphas into unwanted relationships. They had also played a crucial role in reducing the instances of omegas becoming victims of crime. But these were achievements shared by all suppressant manufacturers.

Moreover, Owen had only been chairman for a few years. Rose Pharmaceuticals’ reputation for suppressants went back almost a century.

—It’s symbolism. Rose Pharmaceuticals was the one who didn’t give up on releasing suppressants despite all kinds of threats in the early days, and they’ve consistently upgraded them over the generations. My sister only takes Rose Pharmaceuticals’ suppressants. She believes what they say about their drugs being effective and side-effect free.

John added an explanation, sensing Nick’s unspoken disapproval.

“Did previous chairmen also experience similar attacks?”

He asked, but he didn’t think so. If such incidents had occurred frequently, law enforcement would have already taken action.

—Um… yes and no.

“Be specific.”

—Ah, sorry. Actually, both are true. Any bio-pharmaceutical company of a certain size gets threatened eventually. They seem to treat it as a regular event. The perpetrators are mostly religious groups. Ah, cults, of course.

New religious groups, whose names he’d never even heard, seemed to sprout up constantly. They appeared suddenly and disappeared just as quickly.

—Rose Pharmaceuticals isn’t the only target. They’re called fanatics for a reason. Anyone remotely famous in the bio-pharmaceutical industry is a target. Think of anyone you’ve seen interviewed in a weekly magazine. They all take turns getting their names on picket signs, and it seems like it was Chairman Rose’s turn this time.

Nick already knew that much as common knowledge. But this time, it wasn’t just picketing.

“Are other pharmaceutical CEOs also experiencing direct attacks beyond protests?”

He asked, but he doubted it. If such incidents were frequent, law enforcement would have already intervened.

—Ah, right. That hasn’t been the case.

Nick let out a short sigh.

“What do you mean by betas supporting this?”

Betas were essentially irrelevant to the disputes between alphas and omegas.

—You know, those crazy people who claim alphas and omegas are God’s mistakes, humans who were meant to be beasts, and that suppressants need to be stronger so they can maintain human rationality.

“Ah.”

Nick vaguely remembered seeing something similar on a documentary. An expert had been interviewed, claiming that alphas who couldn’t control their rut were beasts, and their enhanced physical abilities were proof of that.

—But something the Boss just said caught my attention, so I’m looking into the incident reports now. Chairman Rose, I mean, the current Chairman Owen Rose…

“Why Owen?”

—He seems to have received a disproportionately high number of threats. Judging by the reported records, anyway. And there’s one noticeable trend: for years, the threats were mostly harmless.

“For years” effectively meant since Owen Rose had become chairman.

If Owen Rose received more threats, it was probably because of symbolism. Because he was an omega. Owen was the only CEO with omega traits among the companies with buildings in Manhattan. Symbolism inherently attracts attacks. While that interpretation made sense, it didn’t make it right.

A deep frown creased Nick’s forehead.

“And?”

—And recently, they’ve suddenly escalated to direct attacks.

“Was it always the same group?”

—Huh? Uh… hold on. Hmm… no, they weren’t. There are hardly any repeating names. Strangely, it’s been a new set of crazies each time.

“Dig deeper into those crazies. They could be the same people changing their names to avoid harsher punishments.”

If not, and new religious cults were truly sprouting up this frequently in this country, it meant the apocalypse was near.

—Okay. Got it. But Boss, this is too much. Aren’t you curious about our team’s situation? Shouldn’t you be asking about that first? Like if Frank, who left his three-year-old son to come on this mission, is safe, or if they successfully infiltrated the target area, stuff like that.

“They would have contacted me if there was a problem.”

—….

John fell silent, which was rare. It meant things were progressing smoothly.

“Contact me as soon as you have results.”

🥀

“Owen, I’ve heard a very strange rumor.”

“Rumors usually end as rumors, Aunt.”

The person who had contacted him claiming it was urgent was his Aunt Catherine. She had threatened to barge into his office if he didn’t make time for lunch. Actually, from Owen’s perspective, it would be more efficient time-wise if she came to the office, but Catherine avoided coming to the company on board meeting days.

“I don’t have time for a meal. I’m sorry.”

At the dubious private club, they served a simple meal if you wanted food, alcohol regardless of the time if you wanted a drink, and tea if you wanted tea. Since lunch was just an excuse anyway, Catherine didn’t seem particularly offended.

“I heard a man entered your house?”

“That sounds very strange when you put it like that, Aunt.”

Aunt Catherine belonged to New York’s social circles. It was surprising that such formless social circles still existed in this day and age, but even more surprising was the network operating within them. Somehow, they knew everything happening in New York—well, not everything, but at least the news of the Fifth Avenue elite spread so fast it felt like they had bugged the buildings.

“What does he do?”

“He helped me. Actually, I was in quite a dangerous situation, and he saved me.”

“Oh… is that so, Owen? Are you alright? I was being hasty. I should have asked that first.”

Softening her sharp tone, Catherine reached out her hand across the table.

“What kind of lunatic was it this time?”

“It’s still under investigation.”

“I see… Alright. Then let’s talk about that again when there are results. So, did you give him clothes?”

His bitter expression and nod were fleeting as Catherine’s attention immediately returned to her initial question.

“He lost his bag with all his belongings while helping me. Of course, I had to provide him with something.”

“And a card?”

“Aunt, if you keep using my secretary as a spy, Ted will eventually lose his job.”

He’d suspected who her informant was since she mentioned the clothes.

“I’m also a director of this company.”

Although she said so, Catherine knew she had overstepped her boundaries.

And Owen knew Catherine was interfering out of concern. He knew she admired his efforts and was his biggest supporter, but at the same time, she was also the one who worried about him the most. She still advised him to hire a professional manager and live comfortably.

“Don’t scold Ted. You made a reservation at our hotel and then canceled it. That’s how I found out.”

Strictly speaking, he hadn’t made a reservation and canceled it. The Rose Hotel did belong to Catherine Rose, but Owen leased the penthouse. He renewed the lease annually, so it was his until the contract expired.

“Did he accept the card?”

There was a valid reason for giving him the card, but it probably wouldn’t satisfy his aunt. Instead of answering, Owen simply looked at her.

“So he took it.”

“I told you he lost all his belongings. Including his wallet.”

“You’ve picked up a freeloader.”

A chuckle escaped Owen’s lips at the absurdity. The tense atmosphere momentarily dissipated.

A “freeloader” referred to someone who lived idly without a job. Nick Stockton owned his own company.

“That’s not true.”

“How would you know? An older person’s eye is most accurate in these matters. Arrange a meeting. I’ll judge for myself.”

“Aunt.”

It was time to excuse himself. Owen pretended to check his watch.

“What does he do? Just tell me what you know. I’ll investigate the rest.”

Owen didn’t know much about security solutions, but the company lawyer did. Not only did he know, but he also wanted Nick’s business card. That meant Nick’s company was reputable.

“Mr. Spiros knows him too.”

Relying on someone else’s authority wasn’t the best tactic, but it might help alleviate his aunt’s suspicion.

“You’ve already involved him? Is it serious? Are you about to discuss prenuptial agreement clauses? You’ve barely known each other.”

He had expected a different effect when he mentioned the name of the strict elitist, Spiros. Perhaps it was foolish to try and predict someone else’s reaction. For some reason, this time, Spiros’s profession seemed to have registered before his name. A prenuptial agreement? Owen sighed involuntarily.

“Aunt Catherine.”

The cleanest answer would be to flatly deny it.

The problem was, he and Nick were indeed in that kind of relationship.

Of course, they hadn’t discussed anything like a prenuptial agreement. Nick had expressed his desire for a long-term, committed relationship, but…

Some people swore eternal love after a single night, while others couldn’t say those words even after a lifetime together. He didn’t know Nick well enough yet to gauge the sincerity behind his words.

“Owen, rumors spread quickly. If it’s not a serious relationship, kick him out of your house. You have my hotel, you know. That’s why you leased it. Meet outside, like you always have.”

“….”

It was true that he leased the penthouse for that purpose. He needed a safe and comfortable place to meet his partners, including his former fiancé.

“Owen.”

Catherine called his name urgently.

“I can’t do that. …You’re probably right.”

“Right about what?”

Catherine’s eyes narrowed.

He needed to observe Nick’s true intentions a little longer, but if possible, Owen wanted to continue like this.

Nick had awakened a joy within him that he had never felt before, but he was also someone whose presence in his home felt as comfortable as if he wasn’t a stranger at all.

“Owen, finally.”

“No, Aunt. It’s not like that.”

He recognized the look in Catherine’s eyes, the one that hinted at marriage. Owen cut her off before she got her hopes up any further.

“You know. It’s difficult for me.”

“Owen, stop going to the lab. I’m serious. You’re too hard on yourself. Why are you still clinging to that old mindset? Nothing happened afterward.”

“…I have to go now. I have a board meeting.”

Catherine, who had been about to say something more, closed her mouth at the mention of the board meeting. Her eyes, looking up at Owen as he stood, were filled with concern.

“I can leave now, right?”

At Owen’s question, Catherine simply waved her hand dismissively.

🥀

“Chairman, everyone has arrived.”

Ted entered and informed him that the meeting was ready to begin.

He’d tried not to show it, but the people close to him had eventually realized that Owen disliked these meetings. His nervousness made his subordinates nervous as well.

Aunt Catherine was also on the board, but she rarely attended, having delegated her authority to Owen. Catherine couldn’t stand the atmosphere of the meeting room. And neither could Owen.

Owen stood up and walked towards the meeting room, passing Ted, whose face was stiff with anticipation.

Only about ten alphas ever convened or attended these temporary board meetings. Occasionally, there would be a beta director, but rarely anymore. After experiencing a few of these “temporary board meetings,” the faces that actively participated were always the same.

The heavy doors of the meeting room closed behind Owen.

“It’s time to normalize the price of Analox.”

“Didn’t we already bring that up twice at the general meeting? Both times, the resolution was to maintain the current price.”

“That was then, and time has passed, so we’re raising the issue again. The CEO in charge of management should decide the price of new drugs. How can we run a company if we have to tiptoe around shareholders for every little thing?”

“If you’re asking for my opinion, I have no intention of changing the current price. The decision has already been made. It was your decision to bring it to the general meeting because you questioned my management judgment.”

And they had been soundly defeated both times. The directors who raised the motion had expected the general shareholders to agree to raising the price and increasing sales. They hadn’t had a shred of doubt, it seemed. Judging by the fact that they had tried twice.

Analox was a treatment for a genetic disease, so the demand couldn’t be high in the first place. That was precisely why the general shareholders had sided with Owen. If the number of people suffering from this rare disease increased, even surpassing 5% of sales, he would face pressure of a different kind, but the possibility of that happening was close to zero.

As long as Rose Pharmaceuticals maintained its current market share in the suppressant market, the shareholders would continue to support him.

“Are we a charity? Why are we trying to do the government’s job? This is a for-profit company. We’re not saying we should price gouge. We’re saying we should normalize the price. We need to recoup at least the cost of research and development.”

As one person closed their mouth, another director spoke up. Today, it looked like it would be an 8-to-1 fight again.

“Analox isn’t a one-time injection. It’s a treatment that needs to be administered over several years. If we adjust the price as Director Brown suggests, the report shows that it will cost more than $700,000 per patient annually. How many families do you think can afford that kind of medical expense every year without going bankrupt?”

“What does that have to do with anything?!”

“Analox may not be a golden goose, but bankrupting the consumers will be like killing the goose that lays the golden eggs.”

“If we’re just going to give it away for free, why bother developing new drugs in the first place?! What’s the point besides bragging about our research and development capabilities?! Are you aiming for a Nobel Peace Prize or something?!”

The elderly executive’s tone became almost condescending as he grew agitated.

Owen took a deep breath, trying to suppress his displeasure.

He didn’t want to fight. Regardless of what some radical supporters might say, Owen wasn’t working with the mindset of fighting the world. He wasn’t suppressing the price of the new drug with political aspirations in mind, as most of the board members suspected.

He didn’t have some grand sense of justice. He was doing it because he could, and as he had stated numerous times, if the sales of the new drug increased and impacted operating profits even slightly, he would immediately change the policy. Owen was well aware of the scale of his responsibilities.

“Analox accounts for less than 1% of Rose Bio-Pharmaceutical’s sales. If we raise the price to the level Director Brown suggested, even those meager sales will drop. We’ll be flooded with criticism for inflicting more pain on sick people just to pad insignificant numbers.”

“Then we should have conducted more thorough market research before development!”

Analox had been on the market for five years, but the work to obtain FDA approval had begun much earlier. If they traced it back to the initial research and development phase, it had been over ten years. Owen hadn’t even been in the chairman’s office when the market research was conducted.

He simply gave the director a cold stare, knowing he was being deliberately difficult despite being aware of these obvious facts. He no longer felt the need to respond to such remarks.

“Now, now, everyone calm down. The current CEO wasn’t even the one who decided on this project. You all should know that.”

Director Osmond interjected, seemingly trying to calm the heated atmosphere, but Owen already knew what he was going to say next.

After his brief mediation, Osmond turned to Owen.

“However, Chairman, even if it was a project initiated by the previous CEO, there should be interim evaluations. If it’s not meeting the expected performance, we should be able to discontinue it or adjust the pricing policy.”

“The future is in the bio industry. Treatments for genetic diseases using gene editing technology are among the most promising fields. Our competitors are all moving in that direction, and so are we. But we have to accept the initial costs incurred before the market matures. The companies that can bear those initial costs will ultimately dominate the market.”

“That doesn’t mean we can keep selling a product that’s losing money.”

“If it were only losing money, Director Osmond, you would be right. However, as you know from the quarterly brand value assessment reports, the launch of Analox has enhanced both the company’s image and brand value.”

“That’s just a temporary boost from the emotional appeal of that documentary about people with rare diseases.”

Osmond was referring to a documentary about medical expenses produced by a commercial broadcasting station. It included an interview with a patient who was able to complete their third year of treatment thanks to the low price maintained through the collaboration between the government and Rose Bio.

But Rose Pharmaceuticals hadn’t introduced that patient. The production company had found them independently. They hadn’t funded the program or placed any advertisements. The only information Owen had received beforehand was that the lab director had received an interview request.

Even though they had received objectively positive coverage without any company intervention, some people seemed determined to see things negatively.

Owen turned on the monitor in front of him and accessed the confidential data room. He pulled up the corporate image assessment report and the quarterly consumer survey report. He then shared them so they appeared on the monitors in front of the other directors. As the screens changed, several directors lowered their heads.

“After the broadcast mentioning Analox, the corporate image assessment score reached an all-time high. The company’s image improved more than when we spent more on advertising. A friendly and trustworthy corporate image impacts sales. The survey results still show that in the suppressant market, where the difference in quality has significantly decreased, consumers make purchase decisions based on brand name.”

The meeting room fell silent as the directors looked at the data Owen had presented. But he knew this from experience. They were pretending to read; they weren’t actually absorbing the information. Owen maintained his composure, waiting for the inevitable counterattack.

It was Montague who spoke next, in a calmer tone.

“I generally agree with what the Chairman has said. Please don’t misunderstand; we are also directors of Rose Bio-Pharmaceuticals. We offer these suggestions because we want the company to prosper, so we hope you will listen to our voices as well.”

“I always try to listen.”

“How about discontinuing all unprofitable products and investing that money in new ventures?”

This was also a recurring suggestion.

“That’s right, without pioneering new businesses, the company has no future.”

And coincidentally, that new business would be in a field that someone here had a connection to.

“Rose Pharmaceuticals is investing. However, we will focus on areas we know well and have been successful in. There are many companies that faltered after trying to expand into unfamiliar territories. I don’t need to mention names; everyone here knows which companies I’m referring to.”

Owen Rose always won arguments based on logic and numbers.

It wasn’t because Owen was particularly innovative. Rose Pharmaceuticals had systems in place, built over 103 years. All he had to do was maintain them. As long as the management didn’t make any missteps, it was a company that would remain healthy for another hundred years.

“What do you mean by investing an additional $500 million?! Where will that money come from?”

“We still spend more on advertising and marketing than on research and development. We’re simply reallocating a portion of that to research and development. Didn’t you say that without pioneering new businesses, the company has no future? I completely agree. You understand that reducing research and development costs contributes to a decline in company valuation scores, right?”

Owen shared the business report on the monitors again.

“As you’ve already seen, the total expenses remain the same. It’s simply a matter of allocation, and I’ve already sufficiently explained my direction.”

“But Rose Pharmaceuticals has practically monopolized the suppressant market. You’re the industry leader. Your market share is already beyond monopoly levels, attracting scrutiny from authorities. Why invest more in development?!”

“….”

Repeating the same words for years was tiring. No matter how dispassionately and calmly he tried to convey them.

The authorities weren’t targeting Rose Pharmaceuticals; they were monitoring the market. They were checking for unfair trade practices and illegal distribution channels, and Rose Pharmaceuticals was clean in that regard. They had never paid a single fine. Above all, despite their probing and pressuring, this wasn’t what the board members truly wanted to say.

“We need to increase dividend payouts to major shareholders.”

“That matter has already been discussed and concluded.”

Owen could confidently assert that no one here knew their total liquid assets. Owen didn’t know either.

They already had more than they could handle. They simply chanted “more” without any plans for what to do with that wealth. He could at least understand if they had some mission like space exploration that required them to accumulate every penny.

“Executive salaries in the pharmaceutical industry are already the highest compared to other sectors. That naturally includes Rose Pharmaceuticals. Deciding on additional dividends solely for major shareholders in this setting will lead to backlash. As someone responsible for representing the interests of all shareholders, I cannot agree to that motion.”

“We are also shareholders! We hold the larger stakes!”

The sound of a hand slamming against the table echoed through the meeting room. That sound usually meant they were almost done talking. Owen inwardly welcomed the approaching end of this years-long cycle.

“Then let’s publicly propose that motion and put it to a vote at the general shareholders’ meeting. I will abide by the will of all shareholders.”

“….”

“….”

The directors present were major shareholders, but there were other major shareholders who were not present. The small shareholders sided with Owen, and public opinion also supported Chairman Rose. Above all, Owen was the largest shareholder. Even his aunt’s shares were now his. They had no chance of winning a general vote.

The reason they kept initiating this losing battle was greed. The greed of those who already had so much.

The air in the room suddenly turned frigid, and a heavy silence settled over the table.

Over the silent table, alpha pheromones began to permeate the air.

The first time he faced this situation, Owen had been quite flustered. He could argue with words all day. He welcomed debates based on data. But to try and suppress him with pheromones just because they couldn’t get their way?

It seemed like the moment the thick doors of the meeting room closed, the alphas sitting here forgot all worldly manners and decorum. In this closed-off space, where even the minutes of the meeting weren’t publicly disclosed, the board members too easily descended into irrational group behavior. The omega, thrown into a pack of enraged alphas, became a target to be conquered, even by force.

The pheromones the enraged alphas were emitting now weren’t sexual. It meant they weren’t trying to seduce and manipulate the unmarried Chairman Owen Rose.

Of course, there had been those who tried. And those who hadn’t yet experienced Owen Rose still attempted such tactics.

‘Increase the air filtration. Turn it up to maximum. Uncouth people.’

Decorum was like outer clothing worn for show. If they judged there was no one to impress, they would shed those uncomfortable clothes. And in most cases, what lay beneath was ugly.

The hostile pheromones released in the enclosed room weighed heavily even on the betas. Even with Rose Pharmaceuticals’ suppressants, Aunt Catherine had complained of headaches. And that was despite being bonded and thus less susceptible to other alphas’ pheromones.

‘Just how many suppressants do you take before entering the meeting room? No matter how few side effects there are, are you really okay?’

Aunt Catherine believed suppressants were the reason Owen could endure.

It was true that Owen took an extra suppressant on board meeting days. However, no matter how strong an omega’s traits were, they couldn’t resist the aggressive pheromones emitted by a group of enraged alphas. There was no such omega in the world.

Owen wasn’t natural. Something was wrong. No one knew except Dr. O’Reilly.

The National Trait Registration and Management Center only classified whether someone was an alpha or omega, recessive or dominant. If there were more detailed classifications, Owen would probably have received the highest rating.

Owen possessed remarkably strong traits, enough to surprise even Dr. O’Reilly. A dominant omega, skilled in pheromone control, had no need to take suppressants daily. Nevertheless, Owen had requested custom-enhanced suppressants from Dr. O’Reilly. Even before taking the suppressants O’Reilly had formulated, Owen had been relatively resistant to alphas’ pheromone attacks.

However, that was only in one-on-one situations, not like this. In situations like this, where multiple alphas emitted hostile pheromones in a concentrated attack, even Owen struggled. He could feel the suppressants wearing off rapidly.

He had to end this meeting. If he didn’t leave this place, he might end up showing them the spectacle they had been longing to witness for years.

“Please contact me when you reach a consensus. The general shareholders’ meeting requires a lot of preparation.”

They wouldn’t contact him.

“…”

The room remained shrouded in silence.

“If there are no other matters, I have another appointment, so I’ll excuse myself.”

Since he’d said it was the last item on the agenda, it should be alright to leave. He was reaching his limit. Before the other directors could stand, Owen strode towards the meeting room door, his long legs carrying him swiftly, but not so fast as to appear panicked.

The threatening pheromones still hung heavy in the air.

‘Is he really an omega? Isn’t he actually a beta?’

Knowing there would be no official record, the alphas’ remarks were shamelessly blunt, even childish at times. Owen didn’t know if such comments were included in the minutes, as he had never checked. If it were him, he would be careful with his words, if only for fear of the record, but he wasn’t them.

Owen was the first to leave, and the meeting room door closed behind him. The moment he heard the click of the door, he practically ran.

“Ugh— Urp—”

The violent sounds of retching were painful even to his own ears.

It was always like this on board meeting days. Knowing this would happen, he hadn’t ingested anything resembling food since leaving the house. Nick’s warm breakfast had long since been digested, and only the liquids he’d drunk remained, now mixed with gastric acid and bile as they spilled out.

“Ha… Ha…”

He tried to control his ragged breathing, but it came out in gasps.

He wanted to just sit there, clutching the toilet. An ordinary omega wouldn’t have even made it this far. They would have vomited all over the meeting table, then collapsed at the feet of those despicable alphas, succumbing to their intimidation.

They hadn’t been this blatant from the start. In the early days of his chairmanship, at least half of them had been amicable. The open hostility began when Victor Rose started attending the board meetings.

He’d heard that his Uncle Victor, who had lost the succession battle to Owen’s father, had delegated his authority to other board members and stopped coming to the company altogether. However, after Owen took over, Victor Rose began to reappear at board meetings.

Some speculated that Victor was trying to push Owen out and take his place. But Owen knew the real reason Victor tormented him.

Victor and his wife believed Owen had ruined their son. They wanted to blame Owen for turning their promising, brilliant son into a reclusive hermit, completely withdrawn from the world.

Victor hadn’t said it outright, but Sarah hadn’t been able to hide it. She quickly recovered her composure, pretending it was a slip of the tongue, but both the speaker and the listener knew it wasn’t.

So, even if this was driven by personal vendetta, Owen had tried to tolerate it precisely because it was personal. He hadn’t thought it was worth fighting his uncle, believing it would eventually pass.

And strictly speaking, Victor wasn’t the one who orchestrated this atmosphere. The attempts to control the newly appointed young chairman were expected, and he’d assumed they would eventually find a balance after a few bumps in the road.

At first, it had only been sharp exchanges of words. The problem was that Victor’s silence was interpreted as approval.

A major shareholder, a descendant of the founder and the current chairman’s uncle, wasn’t supporting his nephew but condoning the collective behavior of the board members trying to control him. They saw it as shared intent, and the lines they gradually crossed, testing the waters, had led to this. It wasn’t something that happened overnight but the result of years of gradual escalation.

If he wanted to rectify the situation now, he could make an example of one of the directors and dismiss them. He could seek help from the shareholders who supported him, convene a general meeting, and pass a resolution for dismissal. He could fabricate a reason.

‘You monster!!’

However, Owen couldn’t escape Sarah’s accusation of ruining her son.

His bloodshot eyes, reddened from vomiting, met Owen’s in the mirror.

“…”

He had considered marriage to escape this. He wanted to experience the effects of bonding.

‘You’re too cold inside; I don’t want to go in!’

He took an extra suppressant on nights he spent with his fiancé, but he was still aroused enough not to hinder their intimacy. Or so he thought.

He had been seeing his fiancé with the intention of marrying him. In the presence of that alpha’s pheromones, Owen was like any other omega. He accepted his partner’s pheromones, so it was natural for him to be aroused. His body temperature should have risen, not fallen, yet his fiancé had said those words.

‘You’re so tight, are you even a real omega?!’

His fiancé, uttering those humiliating words, had been angry. He was furious that Owen wasn’t exhibiting the typical omega behavior of completely losing himself and succumbing to an alpha’s pheromones.

‘You have zero appeal as an omega.’

What was with an alpha’s pride? That night, his fiancé had even pulled out mid-intercourse before uttering those cruel words. His fiancé’s withdrawn penis had been flaccid. Owen hadn’t been the only one who hadn’t felt anything that night.

It hadn’t been like that from the start, but even recalling their first time after the engagement ceremony, his fiancé hadn’t exactly been brimming with vitality. His fiancé was someone whose ego outweighed his libido. He was also like a child who, despite his inflated ego, hadn’t become independent from his parents.

‘Can’t you prescribe me artificial pheromones concentrated with alpha pheromones?’

Although he had restrained himself from saying it directly, Owen had been hurt and angered by his fiancé’s harsh words. He had wanted a solution in the form of a pill, but Dr. O’Reilly had advised him that the natural way was best.

He couldn’t stop his humiliating search for partners, as suppressing the interaction of pheromones could disrupt his internal balance. Losing control of his body due to an imbalance was Owen’s greatest fear.

He had set a goal to marry someone reasonably trustworthy and with suitable conditions, even if it meant eventually divorcing, as long as they bonded first.

He had even figured out how to time and adjust his suppressant intake to ensure mutual pleasure with his partners. He thought he was responsive enough to avoid suspicion of not being an omega, but he still couldn’t completely lose himself during sex.

That was probably why. His partners invariably criticized him for not being omega enough.

They left, saying things like “a scentless omega,” but he couldn’t blame them. Owen hadn’t fully immersed himself. He had to stay alert, in case something went wrong during their intimacy. He couldn’t completely let go.

The night Nick Stockton taught him how to forget everything and completely lose himself was the first time. He had been swept away without a moment to consider his own state. If that was what sex between a typical alpha and omega was like, then he had been demanding a great sacrifice from his few partners.

His first night with Nick, overlapping with his heat cycle, was hazy, but he vividly remembered the heat that had churned within him. It was also the first time he had been knotted.

It was much more…

Heat rushed to his face, which had turned pale from vomiting.

Should he call it primal? It had felt like visiting a completely different world.

Just thinking about that night made him feel a warmth gathering in his lower abdomen. Owen unconsciously placed his hand on his stomach. Perhaps because of his empty stomach, a sudden emptiness washed over him.

He still questioned why he had so easily lowered his guard with Nick Stockton, or if the suppressants had simply worn off quickly that night. But he didn’t feel like anything was wrong. He was content with Nick.

He hoped Nick felt the same. If even Nick left, saying he was too cold, he thought the wound this time would be much deeper.

Owen bent down and rinsed his mouth once more. He shook out the folded towel and wiped his mouth. He dried his hands and placed them on the mirror, which, like the one at home, opened with biometric authentication.

Inside the opened cabinet was a single pill container. The white container with no label contained the suppressants he’d received from the lab. He opened the lid and looked at the contents. Should he take them or not?

“…”

Did he really need to put them into his already ravaged stomach? Owen closed the lid and put the container back in the cabinet.

He had already used up all the energy he had to get through the rest of the day. It would be better to go home early.

“…”

The thought of going home brought Nick’s scent to mind before the image of his bed.

He felt that smelling Nick’s scent would bring him comfort.

🥀

“Chairman Rose.”

A young man stopped Owen as he was about to get into his car. Looking around, it seemed like the other cars had all left. In the executive parking area, only a car that appeared to belong to the young man remained. The surroundings were deserted.

“You left the meeting room so quickly that I missed the chance to greet you properly.”

The man, extending his hand with a confident smile, was Director Montague.

“The board meeting is over. If you have other matters, please discuss them at the next meeting.”

“Oh, you’re as rigid as the rumors say.”

Rumors. The source of the rumors this new board member had heard was either his own father, who had handed over the position, or those despicable alphas who had filled the meeting room today. Owen didn’t feel the slightest inclination to engage with someone who spoke like this.

Owen remained silent, his posture rigid.

“Don’t misunderstand. I was also shocked in the meeting room. I never imagined that would happen. Although I’m also on the board, I can’t condone using pheromones to suppress someone. Of course, I didn’t participate. We alphas may have power, but it should only be used when fighting amongst ourselves. My principle is that the weak should be protected.”

The man’s already confident face now glowed with self-satisfaction.

He’d just said he couldn’t condone suppressing the weak with pheromones, but what was this unpleasant scent invading Owen’s nostrils? Even though it was an empty parking garage, he was shamelessly releasing his pheromones in a public space.

Like father, like son. The older Montague, without considering the age difference between himself and Owen, had committed the indecent act of emitting sexual pheromones, and it seemed the younger Montague had similar intentions.

“Didn’t you just say you couldn’t condone suppressing someone with pheromones?”

The smart move would be to ignore him and get in the car. But his resentment towards the continuous alpha attacks flared. Experiencing this twice in one day was excessive.

“This has a completely different intention. That sounds like you’re making excuses for me, Chairman Rose. Are you free this evening? Give me a chance to clear up any misunderstandings over dinner. From what I saw, you desperately need allies on the board.”

As he finished speaking, his alpha pheromones intensified. They clearly conveyed how he and Owen could become allies.

Normally, with the suppressants he took every morning, Owen could coolly deflect this level of provocation. Even if it earned him the ridicule of being a rigid, cold, un-omega-like omega, he wouldn’t be panting under the influence of pheromones like this.

“My, it seems you’re quite exhausted today.”

His tone implied that he hadn’t done anything, that Owen’s current state was solely due to what happened in the meeting room.

Through his blurring vision, he saw the young alpha’s hand reaching out. Owen bit down hard on the inside of his lip. Swallowing the taste of blood, he roughly swatted the man’s hand away before it could touch his cheek.

“What you’re doing is clearly illegal. Do you want to be sued for sexual harassment?”

He made the threat, but both he and the man knew he wouldn’t actually sue. The moment the words “sexual harassment” were linked to Owen Rose, the tabloids would have a field day, and the board would try to use the scandal against him.

As expected, the man just smirked. He casually shoved his hand into his pocket, unfazed by the awkward gesture hanging in the air. He looked pleased with himself, as if enjoying the visible effect he had on Owen Rose. That expression made Owen want to vomit again.

The moment Owen swatted Montague’s hand away, Jimmy got out of the driver’s seat. Montague, seeming to notice the witness, glanced at Jimmy.

“It seems you’re not feeling well today. Please give me a chance to clear up any misunderstandings next time. Our club is quite effective at lifting one’s spirits.”

The man, grinning slyly, showed both palms to the approaching Jimmy, gesturing that he was done. He opened the backseat door for Owen. As Owen got in, his face cold, Montague released another wave of sexual pheromones before closing the door.

Owen bit his inner lip again.

Jimmy, being a beta, couldn’t detect it. The awful scent lingering in the car, or what it was. Even before Montague’s disgusting pheromones, the car would have already been filled with the mixed scents of various alphas from the meeting room.

Jimmy, carefully driving, seemed focused on the road. This was why Owen’s driver had to be a beta. Otherwise, the lingering aggressive or sometimes sexual scents of other alphas would have made it impossible for him to drive safely.

Owen activated the tablet next to his seat and turned the air purification function to maximum. The air in the car would continue to be filtered, but the scent clinging to Owen wouldn’t disappear completely.

Disgusting.

He had once despaired, thinking this was something he wouldn’t have to endure if he weren’t an omega. But he quickly shook his head, correcting his misguided thoughts.

This wasn’t a battle between alphas and omegas. It was a fight between a board of directors seeking personal gain and a young chairman who wanted to stick to his own management style. They had judged his trait to be a weakness and were attacking what they perceived as his most vulnerable point.

Fortunately, time was on his side. His performance had never declined, and the profit forecasts were projected upwards every year. He would eventually win. This was just a messy day.

His briefly quickened breath had calmed, and the flush on his cheeks was receding, but there was no way to undo the dampness in his underwear. The physiological response had left him feeling uncomfortably wet.

He wanted to go home quickly.