Perfect Omega Chapter 6.3 - Hurdles Aren’t Meant to Be Jumped Over, But Pushed Aside

“But I’m curious. What’s the problem? What are we waiting for? Can’t we just barge in? John, you tell me. What’s not ready yet that we’re stuck waiting here?”

Frank called out to John while bouncing his son on his knee. It’s faster to hear it from the taciturn captain this way.

—I’m having a hard time too.

“So why are we waiting?”

—The Rose family needs to have a bit more power.

“What’s that supposed to mean? Wasn’t this about taking out Owen Rose’s enemies?”

—Victor Rose is a Rose too. He might keep filing lawsuits until he dies. You know how those uptown folks operate, right?

“I know very well.”

Cooper muttered under his breath as if he was fed up.

—Evidence. We need evidence.

“Oh, right. Evidence.”

Frank made a sound of immediate understanding.

“So, when are we going to have the evidence that’ll make sure that perverted bastard can’t make a peep when we punish him?”

Ever since the raid on the manufacturing plant, where he was doused in pheromones, Hugh’s emotional state hasn’t been good.

—We’re searching like crazy. I’m telling you, I’m working without sleep to see a desirable outcome where the captain’s happy, I’m happy, and only that crazy cousin’s family is miserable. Do you all think digging up information is easy just because I always manage to find it quickly?

“That’s funny. Isn’t most of that information you get just bought off the dark web?”

—What’s bought with money is IDs or access codes. Who bothers running hacking programs manually these days? You just buy the key. But a key is just a key. Does someone else go in and dig through the data for you?

“Alright, alright. I won’t bother you, so keep digging like crazy.”

No one ever wins an argument with John, and Cooper, realizing he’d only stepped on a landmine, quickly cut off the communication.

“But why isn’t John scared of us? He even whines and says whatever he wants to the captain.”

While chewing on a Danish pastry someone recommended, Cooper suddenly had that realization. Why isn’t that guy afraid of the elite squad of a security solutions team, or even the captain? He only pretends to be scared but always says what he wants.

“Because he’s never seen the captain in the field.”

“Exactly. He mostly talks to the captain over the phone. All mouth. That guy isn’t scared of any of us. The only thing he’s afraid of is some secret agent no one knows exists.”

“Ha, yeah. Secret agent.”

“More like we’re the ones who are scarier than any secret agent.”

Cooper shook his head in disbelief.

“He doesn’t know any better. Let him be. Ignorance is bliss.”

“But he’s competent, isn’t he? Soon he’ll call and say he’s secured the evidence, and we can move in.”

“I agree with John about the need for a safety net, but this isn’t like the captain.”

Simon, who had been quietly emptying his coffee cup, spoke up.

“If there’s an obstacle, you thoroughly analyze it, then don’t avoid it but push right through. That’s the captain, isn’t it?”

“Exactly. Did we call him a lone evolved Neanderthal for nothing? Simple, brute force is the captain’s trademark, so why is he suddenly being cautious? Why has he changed?”

Even as Nick threw out the nickname he didn’t particularly like, provoking him, Nick maintained the same posture he’d taken when he first pulled out his chair, listening silently.

Nick was anxious too. But he knew pestering over the phone wouldn’t solve anything, so he held back and waited. Complaining wouldn’t bring any solutions anyway.

The fact that the damned Locke W. Rose’s surname is Rose is what’s holding Nick back. If something goes wrong and the Rose family or Rose Pharmaceuticals gets caught in a scandal, it’ll splash back on Owen.

Through John’s investigation, they’d learned something new: among the people protesting at bio and pharmaceutical companies, not all were paid to do so. There were genuine protesters too.

Acidic pheromones, illegal clinical trials. Even if it’s something a cousin did, how much trouble would it cause? Nick couldn’t bear to see that. They needed evidence that could be handled quietly and discreetly. Evidence so airtight that neither Locke nor his parents, Victor and Sarah, could stir up trouble and would want to cover it up themselves.

As if in response to Nick’s worries, his phone screen lit up right on cue. It was Josh from the narcotics unit.

“Yes.”

—Mr. Stockton, good morning.

“Got any good news?”

—Sure do. We found the bag.

“That’s… unexpected.”

Had he underestimated the New York police? The thought that they’d kept divers searching for a bag dropped in the river was quickly dismissed.

—We were surprised too. I’d love to say it’s the result of the New York Police Search Team’s best efforts as thanks for your righteous help, but sadly, that’s not the case. A body turned up.

“A body?”

The word “body” drew the attention of the team members, who had been chattering, to the phone.

—We got a report of something that looked like a corpse, so divers were sent in. Lucky for us, they also retrieved your bag, which was caught in some structure. The divers thought a bag that didn’t seem to have been in the water long was suspicious, so they collected it as evidence. Anyway, you could say it was luck. We cleaned the bag, but if you find it distasteful, just come by, sign for it, and we’ll dispose of it for you.

“No need. Just sanitize it for me.”

—Sure, that’s easy enough. Um, well…

The detective dragged out his words, as if the bag wasn’t the real reason for the call. Nick, not thinking Josh called just to brag about recovering a bag, waited for the next part.

—The real reason I’m calling is that the condition of this body is unusual.

“I’m listening.”

—You remember the two omegas we found in that manufacturing plant?

“I do.”

—One barely made it to a rehab facility, and the other died because their condition worsened. The autopsy results for the deceased seem similar to this body that washed up. Of course, the body from the docks is still undergoing autopsy, so we’ll need to wait for the official report, but we have a preliminary opinion.

“What specifically seemed similar?”

—The autopsy report for the omega from the plant showed their pheromone gland was completely destroyed. The one in rehab has also completely lost pheromone regulation. Brain scans show that parts of the brain related to this function were damaged too.

“What does that mean?”

Nick’s eyes narrowed.

—The doctor said it’s likely they first experienced an accidental pheromone release, which damaged the related organs, and then were exposed to an environment equivalent to a pheromone shower, which completely ruined them.

“Unwanted.”

If they’d been in a normal state, they wouldn’t have let themselves deteriorate that far.

—Sorry? Oh, right. It was probably something like forced imprinting. Being injected with unwanted pheromones, they resisted, but already drugged, they couldn’t fight back properly and just took it.

Even hearing it, the nature of the crime was vile.

“Can the person in rehab communicate? Have they said anything about where or who did this to them?”

—No. Everyday communication is impossible. Their brain is damaged, so they probably won’t recover. As for the body, I’ll let you know when the official autopsy results come in. If you have any information, Mr. Stockton, please share it.

“Will do.”

“What’s up, Captain?”

“What body?”

The team members, who’d been waiting for him to hang up, jumped in, but Nick immediately called John.

—You just told me to work, and now you’re calling again?

“Look into missing persons.”

—Sigh… Fine. That’s a whole different world. Please narrow it down.

“People who came out of the manufacturing plant.”

—Why them?

“I think they were experimented on.”

“What?”

“Oh… That’s why those people looked like zombies back then.”

Listening to Nick and John’s conversation, those who were at the scene added their comments.

If what Detective Josh said was true, it wasn’t just experimentation—it was torture. Exposing someone in such a ruined state to a distributor without worrying about consequences meant they were confident they wouldn’t be traced. That meant they believed they were untouchable.

—Where did they get those people?

John’s muttering to himself suggested his curiosity was piqued.

“Find that out.”

Now it was serious. Truly, Locke and whoever his accomplices were needed to be erased from Owen’s life forever. That crazy Locke bastard. Another reason to handle this cautiously and quietly had just been added.

“Mr. Stockton spoke directly with the police before I signed for the release of the bag. He said to bring it to the Rose Mansion.”

The person who retrieved the bag from the police station was Owen’s secretary, Ted.

While leaving the station after the investigation, Owen had instructed that all communication should go through the Rose Mansion. Since this was caused by him, he calculated to spare Nick any hassle, like being summoned to the police station again for no reason.

“Thanks, Ted.”

When Owen reached out to take it, Ted stepped back slightly.

“It’s heavy, sir. Tell me where to put it, and I’ll carry it there.”

“…Then over there.”

Owen pointed to a large console table at the start of the staircase landing. Ted carefully set the bag down where Owen indicated.

“It’s the weekend, so go home now. Tell Jimmy to take a break too. I don’t think I’ll be moving anymore today.”

Since Ted also served as a personal secretary, weekends weren’t strictly defined for him. Owen had originally had plans today, but they were canceled.

Finally getting a real weekend, but Nick was out. Hearing Ted say he’d spoken to Mr. Stockton at the police station, Owen almost asked, “Where did he say he was?”

In truth, Owen realized he didn’t know if Nick distinguished between weekdays and weekends or how he spent his weekdays.

Nick had breakfast with Owen, and when Owen returned in the evening, Nick was home. Whether he’d been there all day or gone out and come back, Owen didn’t know. If Owen lingered at the entrance, Nick would stride out from the kitchen, kiss Owen’s cheek, and say he missed him. He said the same thing every evening, and it always sounded sincere.

People with such charm were called players, but Nick wasn’t like that, Owen thought, turning his attention to the ugly plastic bag stacked next to the console’s leg.

Nick’s bag was delivered in a large, nondescript plastic bag. Probably because it was wet from being pulled out of the river, but it looked like evidence from a crime scene. Owen bent down and cautiously opened the plastic bag’s mouth.

There was a faint smell of river water, but it wasn’t as bad as he’d feared. It seemed to have been rinsed with clean water, as there was no mud. Though it was placed in the plastic bag due to moisture, there wasn’t a pool of water at the bottom either.

He should’ve stopped there and closed it up, but the hideous plastic bag looked like a tempting door. It fueled a voyeuristic urge to peek inside. The thought that it was someone else’s belongings clashed with his curiosity.

It’s not about suspicion. I’m just curious about him.

Making excuses to himself, Owen carefully pulled the plastic bag down until the bag was revealed.

It was an ordinary weekender bag. Light enough to avoid checking luggage for short trips, convenient to carry by hand—Owen owned a few himself. It wasn’t the same design as any of his, but it was the same brand as one of them.

Owen stood there, still holding the rough plastic bag, lost in thought.

Suddenly, Nick felt intriguing. His taste in items wasn’t bad. Yet he showed no interest in the collections at the Rose Mansion, which was practically a private museum and gallery. Nor did he seem intimidated. From the way he moved freely through the mansion.

He seemed like a Stone Age caveman with his blunt, unfiltered demeanor, yet he was adept at operating some of the machines in the kitchen and study. Recognizing the security system at the entrance could be chalked up to his profession, but he also intuitively handled other modern equipment without needing manuals.

According to the investigator’s report, Nick wasn’t running some small-time business, as Aunt Melissa had carelessly speculated. Nor was he a deadbeat, as Aunt Catherine had suspected. But… in New York, Nick did seem leisurely. Plus, the man could cook.

Tonight, Owen decided he’d ask about Nick’s daily life. Feeling a bit excited, he examined the bag closely again.

It was one size larger than Owen’s. Owen remembered considering this size but putting it back, thinking it was too big for him. It seemed to suit Nick, though, and he cautiously opened the zipper.

The reason for choosing a branded travel bag for short trips is durability. Though not handled as roughly as checked luggage, bags still get torn or damaged when packed and moved around. This brand boasted not only design but also sturdy durability. Even after being submerged in water for a long time, the zipper moved smoothly without resistance.

The first thing that caught his eye was a laptop pouch. Owen’s brow furrowed slightly.

He hoped it was backed up. He’d been too careless.

Nick hadn’t said a word about the inconvenience caused by the accident at the heliport that day. If there was any loss of data, Owen needed to compensate him. Tonight’s dinner conversation was going to be lively.

Lifting the flat bag containing the laptop revealed clothes that reeked strongly of river water. Owen wanted to throw them out immediately, but that was for the owner to decide, so he ignored them and turned his attention to the side pocket. The side pocket was zipped shut, and that zipper, too, opened smoothly without catching.

Finally, a wallet emerged from the inner pocket of the bag. A sleek black leather wallet. Despite being in the river for so long, it retained its shape without any warping. Opening it would reveal the credit cards and ID Nick had reported lost.

And… maybe a photo or something.

He’d tried to forget, but the image of Nick holding a child flashed back.

Owen’s hand reached into the damp bag but quickly pulled back. The sound of the front door opening reached him. Owen turned around.

“Owen?”

“Today, I’m the one greeting you. Looks like you were out.”

He hoped his expression didn’t look awkward. He felt like he was just saying whatever came to mind.

“Yeah, for a bit. Had to meet someone for company business. Is this it?”

Having spoken on the phone, Nick immediately recognized the grotesquely wrapped plastic bag.

“It was just brought over. …They even retrieve things dropped in the Hudson River. First I’ve heard of it.”

“Really? I was a bit surprised too.”

Nick didn’t seem particularly thrilled, though given the bag’s condition, that was understandable.

“I took a quick look, and… it’s pretty damaged, as expected. I’ll replace the bag. And the contents too.”

“Don’t worry about it, Owen. There wasn’t anything valuable in there.”

Then Nick casually grabbed the bag with one hand, something Ted had carried with both hands while holding his breath.

“It’s probably all trash now, but I’ll check the contents. Be right back.”

Nick lightly carried the plastic bag and headed upstairs. But his steps weren’t toward the second floor where they lived together but toward the third floor.

Why…?

As Owen looked up at where Nick had disappeared, a flash of light appeared and vanished before his eyes. A throbbing pain began pounding one side of his head. A sudden migraine had hit. Owen pressed his temple and walked toward the kitchen, where the medicine cabinet was.

He swallowed a painkiller with a glass of water. Nick, who’d said he’d be right back, was taking a while. Waiting calmly for the medicine to kick in, Owen climbed the elegant spiral staircase, keeping his pace slow to avoid jarring his head.

Nick’s voice came from the second-floor bedroom. He’d only dropped the bag on the third floor and returned to their shared room. A sigh of relief escaped Owen. It even felt like the painkiller was already working.

“…Must’ve been some cheap deodorizer. You didn’t smell anything on me.”

Deodorizer… there are plenty of reasons to need one. It’s a common item. Still, Owen suddenly felt an urge to rummage through Nick’s closet and sniff everything.

“When are you coming?”

Nick turned around. Seeing Owen, he smiled.

“Alright, then.”

The call ended quickly. Nick set his phone on the nearby table and approached, gently holding Owen’s arms.

“Nick, I opened the bag before you got here.”

“And?”

Even at the mention of looking through his belongings, there was no flinch, no sign of someone hiding something.

“There was a laptop. If there was important data in there… If you’ve been busy lately dealing with some problem, Nick, tell me. I’m responsible too.”

“I’m the one who threw the bag into the river.”

Nick grinned playfully.

“Nick, I’m serious. You did it to save me. If something’s gone wrong, tell me. Maybe there’s something I can do. Or at least file a claim for damages. If it’s inconvenient, I’ll tell Spiros to handle it.”

“There’s no problem. If there’s no work at the company, that’d be the real issue, right, Owen?”

Nick was still smiling.

“…Really?”

“Really.”

“…Even so, I wish you’d tell me.”

I want to know what you’ve been busy with lately. I keep having strange thoughts.

Swallowing the words he couldn’t say aloud, Owen just looked up at Nick.

“There’s really nothing special in the bag. I travel light. The laptop data is automatically uploaded to the company server, and it’s backed up to the last minute. You haven’t forgotten what I do for a living, have you?”

“Private security firm…?”

“Industrial security isn’t our specialty, but we’ve got the basics covered. We’re kept up to date with the latest tech. Some of the jobs we take require knowing the latest security tech. Anyway, no data was lost, so there’s no damage. Are we done with the questions? You look pale from worrying.”

Concerned eyes carefully scanned Owen’s face. The hand rubbing his arm moved up to brush back his hair.

“Then at least the bag.”

“Owen, in terms of price, the stuff you’ve filled the third-floor closet with is probably worth more.”

His voice, calling Owen’s name, was now full of laughter.

“Are you… taking on a new job? I mean, I’m not prying. I was just wondering if you can keep working in New York.”

His voice was getting quieter.

“There’s work in progress. You understand that, given the nature of my job, I can’t share details, right?”

Owen nodded.

“I cannot move the headquarters, but as much as possible, I want to be where you are. If that’s what you’re curious about.”

Nick had accurately read Owen’s anxiety.

“If… you need an office, I have an unused house in New Jersey.”

“I know. The Rose Mansion in New Jersey is quite famous, isn’t it?”

The property is spacious and somewhat isolated from the residential area, so it could be used comfortably. But somehow, it feels like offering the house is a desperate attempt to hold on. The more Owen spoke, the more his confidence seemed to wane.

“Still… I appreciate the offer, Owen. But if I take the keys to that house, I might end up being chased back to Mississippi by the fierce opposition of your aunts.”

“No, that won’t happen. I’ll explain everything clearly to avoid any misunderstandings.”

“I know, Owen. I was joking.”

“…”

Nick’s laughing face looked light and carefree.

“For now, once this current task is done, I plan to discuss with the staff how we’ll proceed with future work. Oh, and when that time comes, I’ll introduce you to them as well. By the way, Owen, you really don’t look well. Are you feeling unwell?”

“…I have a slight headache.”

“Oh dear. Have you taken any medicine? Shall I get some for you?”

“I’ve taken some. Just let me rest like this for a bit.”

Owen felt like a fool, getting so serious that he couldn’t even distinguish between a joke and sincerity. He also felt a sense of self-loathing for being jealous of an imaginary child he’d conjured up without even checking the facts. That feeling seemed to manifest as a headache. Owen buried his face in Nick’s chest, nestling into his side.

“Of course, Owen.”

Without hesitation, Nick pulled Owen into an embrace.

There had been days when just Nick’s scent could improve Owen’s condition, but today was not one of them. Even the headache medicine seemed to take effect more slowly than usual. While Nick’s candid explanations brought some relief, a small question that had begun to form in one corner of his mind kept nagging at his temples.

❊

“Take care, Owen.”

Nick, unchanged as ever, kissed Owen’s cheek as he saw him off. Even today, he had walked a long distance to buy breakfast for Owen.

In the end, the headache had worsened last night, and Owen hadn’t been able to do anything. Nick had taken care of him with the utmost consideration, trying not to cause any discomfort. A man this gentle couldn’t possibly act cruelly. He said he’d wait, so he would wait. And if he could no longer wait, instead of deceiving Owen, he was the kind of person who would face him directly and say he was leaving this house.

That’s what reason told Owen, but this morning, he still found himself wandering through the empty house, battling anxiety.

‘Nick just went out to buy croissants. I know where he went. He’ll come back.’

And Nick did come back. Today. But the delusion that one day he might not return kept creeping in, and Owen blamed it on the headache. The headache that had tormented him all night had also sunk his mood. That’s why he was being negative. So negative that he impulsively sent a message to the investigator, demanding a progress report.

Nick was still standing at the entrance, wearing a sweet smile and raising one hand in a wave. Owen responded with just a glance before getting into the car.

He knew he was doing something unnecessary. But without confirming, this anxiety wouldn’t go away. As if agreeing with him, his phone vibrated right on cue. The vibrations didn’t stop after one; they continued several times in succession.

The incoming message contained photos. Several pictures, taken from different angles, had arrived. Just as Owen finished checking all the received photos, a call came in from an unsaved number.

Owen made sure the partition between the front and back seats was fully raised before pressing the call button.

—It’s confirmed that he’s a company employee.

The investigator, recommended by Spiros, was quick and precise. Unfortunately, he lacked the ability to pick up on the subtle sigh in the tone of his client’s voice or the emotions mixed within it. Owen felt that since it was confirmed to be a colleague, that was enough.

He wasn’t sure if his complicated delusions would be resolved here, but at least Nick hadn’t lied. Just having conducted this kind of background check was already a huge mistake on Owen’s part toward Nick.

—The man in the photos is an omega. He appears to be the parent of a child. He’s staying at the Plaza Hotel, but their meeting place is not the hotel.

The word “omega” made Owen’s heart sink, but the statement that they weren’t meeting at the hotel brought it back to place. Really, he needed to stop this dangerous game.

“Mr. Ryder,”

—Since last Wednesday, they’ve been meeting almost every day. The meeting place is the one captured in the photos, a famous bakery called Grange.

“I know the place.”

Owen intended to say, “Mr. Ryder, you can stop now. I’ll send the remaining payment to your account immediately,” and end the call, but different words came out of his mouth.

“Did they meet this morning as well?”

He felt his facial muscles stiffening completely. He wasn’t even sure if his pronunciation was clear enough to be understood.

—Yes, the photos I sent were taken this morning.

“…”

A company employee, just a company employee.

The person in the photos shouldn’t be called an omega. That would make Nick seem like too cruel a person. It would mean he left the bed he shared with Owen to go to Grange and meet another omega.

“Does he meet anyone else during the day?”

—Not yesterday. I’ll keep watching for a few more days. Would you like me to give you the room number at the Plaza Hotel?

“No.”

Owen hurriedly stopped him, afraid he might actually ask for it.

—I’ll keep monitoring and contact you again.

“…”

Before Owen could bring himself to say “please stop,” the call ended.

Owen opened the received photos again. The omega in the pictures seemed to be the same person Owen had seen from the car a few days ago. The child was reaching out toward Nick, as if familiar with him. The child, not quite a toddler, was being passed from the omega’s arms to Nick.

The omega in the photos was a completely different type from Owen. Since they were standing on the same ground, their height difference was apparent. The omega was short. Unlike Owen, who was tall for an omega, this one was petite, probably barely reaching Nick’s chin when standing close.

Unlike Owen, who was tall and pale, the omega in the photos looked healthy. Perhaps tanned, they boasted a vibrant skin tone. They seemed like someone who could turn three thousand calories into ten thousand.

Owen felt the car slowing down and turned off his phone screen, looking up. The car was crawling into the parking lot. Familiar picket signs caught his eye.

“What God has given is the most natural.”

“When God created alphas and omegas with distinctions, it was because that was God’s will.”

“Inhibitors that interfere with the bond between alphas and omegas are an inhumane sin.”

“Owen Rose, stop the artificial manipulation of omegas.”

A small picket protest was being held in front of the company’s main entrance. As always, as long as they didn’t cross the designated line, the company security guards followed protocol, merely observing without taking action.

Among them were faces Owen had grown accustomed to. Some had been there since the very beginning. Though classified as a heretical group, they had never engaged in violent acts. They took turns visiting major biotech and pharmaceutical companies, holding pickets and chanting slogans. Perhaps because of this, though it felt harsh to those enduring the elements, they usually passed by like random pedestrians. But today, the words on the pickets pierced Owen’s heart more deeply.

The car quickly passed the protesters and entered the parking lot.

The headache that had subsided seemed to be resurfacing. He couldn’t keep nurturing this anxiety and suspicion.

Let’s finish what he intended to do yesterday. Headache or not, tonight he would go home and talk to Nick.

❊

At Owen’s usual quitting time, the person who was always on the first floor was not there today. The lights were on, so it didn’t seem like he had gone out.

“Nick?”

Owen called Nick’s name and waited for a moment. Nick, with his astonishingly sharp senses, would usually hear even such a soft call and respond from somewhere.

Even after standing there a bit longer, the person who should have come running, calling “Owen,” didn’t answer.

Owen slowly climbed the stairs. It wasn’t until he nearly reached the second floor that he faintly sensed someone’s presence. Owen’s tense face relaxed a little.

“Nick, you were here…”

“That was his phone number? …Hmm… I see?”

Owen stopped as he was opening the bedroom door. Nick was on the phone with someone.

Quick-witted Nick immediately turned around. He smiled at Owen and then turned back to continue the call.

Owen let go of the doorknob and took a step into the bedroom they shared.

‘The instinct of an alpha is inevitable.’

What exactly is an alpha’s instinct?

Though he had tried to ignore it, the story Aunt Catherine had told him had been occupying a corner of Owen’s mind, refusing to fade. Owen stared blankly at Nick’s back. No more words came from Nick; he seemed to be listening to the other person.

Owen didn’t know what an alpha’s instinct was. He had always been afraid to fully confront even the omega instincts within himself, too busy suppressing them to keep them from surfacing. Were instincts really that important in modern society? Weren’t they just excuses used by people who lacked impulse control? That’s what he had thought.

Lately, Nick had only been having gentle sex with Owen. It was so good that Owen was on the verge of proposing a permanent relationship. He was certain Nick was enjoying it too. Nick wasn’t stingy with his expressions, always showering Owen with praise that melted his ears.

So Owen had felt secure. Until now, he had thought he held the key. He believed Nick was just waiting for Owen’s approval.

If Owen said, “Let’s take our time with bonding and get married first,” he had assumed Nick would nod without hesitation. He had thought the decision was his to make, never considering that Nick might refuse.

Looking back, from the very first day, Nick had asked Owen to release his pheromones. Whenever Owen, swept up in the mood, released a small amount, Nick would inevitably attempt to knot. Even knowing Owen had a contraceptive capsule, Nick didn’t care. As if driven by instinct, even knowing it was futile, Nick would become a different person in that moment, diving into Owen.

But recently, Nick had been having only gentle, ordinary sex. Owen had thought it was out of consideration for him. But… what if it wasn’t?

Nick was a highly intelligent and rational person. Owen could feel his affection. At the same time, he was a healthy alpha in the prime of his instincts.

What if that man had a chance to fully bond with another omega? Nick’s rut hadn’t come yet, but what if, when it did, he sought out a complete omega? Or… what if he had already met one?

Nick was a fully mature adult male. It wouldn’t be surprising if he had a few children somewhere. Owen realized he knew almost nothing about Nick. The affection Nick showed him seemed genuine, but what if he was someone capable of having multiple genuine affections?

Owen felt a tingling in his heart.

“Owen? Are you okay?”

The call must have ended, as Nick approached, still holding his phone. Seeing Owen’s hand over his chest, he spoke with concern.

“No. Yes, I’m fine.”

Nick looked puzzled by the contradictory response and asked again.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but just now… are you going somewhere?”

“You can hear everything. I was about to tell you. Something came up with work, and I need to step out for a bit. It might take a few days this time, but I’ll come back as soon as possible.”

“When are you leaving?”

“Unfortunately, we can’t spend this evening together.”

“…Now?”

Owen felt like his eyes were about to pop out as he asked for confirmation.

“It’s something that needs to be handled as soon as possible.”

“Where… where are you going? Nick, I have something to talk to you about.”

Nick looked at Owen with eyes full of apology. He gently held Owen’s arms and rubbed them affectionately.

“Unfortunately, I have to leave right now. The staff are waiting. …I’ve never seen you make this kind of face before. I’ll come back as quickly as I can.”

Nick’s phone, still in his hand, started ringing again. He didn’t answer it immediately but dropped an even more shocking statement.

“Oh, and during the operation, I might not be able to stay in touch.”

It was as good as telling Owen not to call. Instead of answering the phone in front of Owen, Nick slipped it into his pocket, grabbed his jacket, and that was it. He didn’t even take any luggage.

“Lock the door well, Owen.”

Nick’s lips brushed Owen’s cheek, and before Owen could process it, he heard the sound of him leaving. It was only when he realized it was the front door closing that Owen thought to chase after him, but Nick was probably already gone.

What in the world is happening…?

Owen raised a hand to his forehead. For a moment, he had to consider whether he was dreaming. He looked around the room. Nothing was out of place.

He didn’t leave like he was running away. That’s obvious.

The second-floor bedroom was no different from usual. Owen walked toward the stairs leading to the third floor. The guest room he had first assigned to Nick was also unchanged. There were no signs of hurried packing.

Of course.

Relief washed over him, and he let out a long breath he’d been holding.

Owen slowly walked toward the closet and opened it. Clothes that Ted, his assistant, had brought and organized were neatly packed inside. Since Owen had asked for shopping multiple times after that, it was only natural for the closet to be so full.

He should have had Nick move all his things to the second-floor bedroom sooner.

It was a trivial thing, but Owen regretted not paying attention to something important.

From the moment he was born, Owen had been cared for. With people always taking care of him, the small details of daily life were beyond his consideration. That could be an excuse, but Nick might have felt neglected. Moving between the guest room and the second-floor bedroom, he might have felt like a guest.

With this belated realization, Owen touched his forehead again.

While aimlessly flipping through the clothes, the fact that Nick had literally left empty-handed slowly sank in. The man who said he’d be gone for a few days had nothing in his hands. Shouldn’t he have at least packed a change of clothes? Or… was it because he didn’t have a bag? Opening another closet, Owen didn’t see anything that could serve as a bag.

Since Ted had handled Nick’s clothes, Owen didn’t know the finer details. But if Nick needed a bag, Owen had plenty.

It suddenly hit Owen that in this house—neither in the guest room designated as Nick’s nor in the second-floor bedroom they shared—there were truly no personal belongings of Nick’s.

“…”

Owen turned around and left the guest room. He began running down the stairs.

This wouldn’t do. He needed to talk to Nick, even for ten minutes. He couldn’t send him off like this, not with this anxiety.

“…!”

His hurried steps stopped in the entrance hall. A plastic bag, which he hadn’t noticed when he came in, caught his eye.

That unsightly bag, placed by the front door, was definitely the one Ted had picked up from the police station yesterday. Judging by its bulky shape, the contents seemed untouched.

It looked like Nick had tossed it there, intending to throw it out as trash. Owen himself had thought, while opening the foul-smelling bag, that everything inside needed to be discarded.

Even so, he didn’t have the courage to check the contents of the plastic bag, now reduced to a trash bag.

When Nick had first said he’d be leaving New York for a while due to work, Owen had felt an unfamiliar emotion. At the time, he thought it was loneliness.

There was certainly loneliness, but that wasn’t all. Now he understood. It was anxiety.

There wasn’t a single item of Nick’s in this house. If even that unsightly plastic bag was thrown out, there wouldn’t even be a lost item for Nick to come back for. Just as he had arrived empty-handed, he could leave the same way.

But Nick had said he was leaving for a few days for work. His expression was calm. Today, that must be true. Even if there might come a day when Nick doesn’t return, the Nick that Owen knows would surely tell him face-to-face that it’s over before ending things.

“…”

His gaze fell again on the plastic bag, sitting forlornly, waiting to be discarded.

What Nick was throwing out was a broken bag, not Owen himself. Connecting the two was an overreach. Nick had said they’d talk when he returned, so Owen just needed to wait a few days. When he comes back.

…Will he come back?

If he says he won’t be reachable and leaves, how long should Owen wait?

What if a few days turn into a few weeks? He could at least ask when Nick would be back.

Earlier, Owen had been too frazzled. Nick probably hadn’t gone far yet, so he’d answer a call.

Determined to call before it was too late, Owen searched for his phone. He must have left it on the second floor. He ran up the stairs, flung open the bedroom door, and frantically looked for his phone.

“…!”

When he unlocked it, the last message window he’d seen popped up. The photos from the investigator that morning were still there, undeleted, stared at all day.

Owen bit his lower lip and turned off the screen. He clasped the phone with both hands as if in prayer, covering the entire screen with his palms to prevent pressing any buttons. He brought his hands to his forehead. He didn’t know what words might spill out if he connected with Nick right now.

Owen collapsed onto the bed.

As he had told Dr. O’Riley, their sex life was extremely active, and Owen was more than satisfied. Compared to when they mixed pheromones, their sex had become simpler, but emotional connection was still there. Or so he believed.

Nick was a highly intelligent man, responsible and kind. In fact, of all the alphas and betas Owen had encountered, he could say Nick was the most masculine.

So this was all an overreach, and Owen was just a little out of his mind right now.

He shouldn’t nurture baseless suspicions.

…Or maybe, just one more time, he should check the facts.

Owen slowly unlocked the phone again. His gaze was cold as he looked at the photos on the screen. His calm fingers dialed the sender’s number. On the second ring, the other party answered.

—This is Ryder.

“It seems he’s leaving New York for work. Can you find out where he’s going and if he’s with anyone?”

There was no need to specify who.

—I’m already on it. I’ll report as soon as I have confirmation.

Oh… since Owen hadn’t canceled the request, the investigator was continuing the job.

He knew he was doing something absurd, but he couldn’t let go of the only alpha who had become a part of his life.

If, just if, Nick, who hurriedly left the house, was staying at the Plaza Hotel, this time Owen would get the room number.

…There would be many eyes at the hotel.

The Plaza Hotel’s location and brand recognition meant Owen might run into one or two familiar faces. Even if not, Owen Rose’s face was well-known. No matter how discreetly he went in to retrieve Nick, he wouldn’t be able to stop the rumors.

Owen Rose, knocking on a hotel door to drag out an alpha, a crying child and another omega clinging to him, a scandalous love affair… Even if it meant dominating the tabloids the next day, Owen was determined to take him back.

The confirmation call came quickly.

“Yes.”

His cold hands didn’t even sweat.

—He got out of a taxi at the Zenith Hotel.

…!

Owen’s brow furrowed slightly.

There are many boutique hotels in New York. Even now, construction for new hotel openings continues unabated somewhere in the city.

Owen has no occasion to use New York’s boutique hotels, but he immediately recognized the name Zenith. It’s the hotel on Montague Street.

To be precise, it’s a place opened by the young director of Montague Street with an early inheritance. Rumor has it that he doesn’t just lend his name but actively manages it. It’s even said that he frequently stays there himself.

Among young socialites, it’s known as a venue for wild parties. Some say it was built for that very purpose. The underground club hosts exclusive, closed-door parties on special occasions, but the problem is that these special occasions happen so frequently that there’s a mocking rumor that the owner single-handedly drives Zenith’s revenue. The club Owen was invited to last time was probably that one.

—Is this all you need to know for now?

Ryder asked in a dry tone. Owen gripped the phone tightly.

“No. Please tell me the room number as well.”

—The room booked under Mr. Stockton’s name is a suite. The room number is…

As Owen listened, his mind grew more tangled. Why would Nick say he was going on a business trip and then head to a hotel? Where did the person staying at the Plaza Hotel go? Did they move to a smaller hotel? Why? To avoid attention?

If Owen were to think generously, it could be that Nick’s work required confidentiality. A matter that necessitated meeting in a place away from prying eyes…

“…”

Though he had never been there, Owen knew the young Montague’s inclinations. According to Spiros, the company lawyer who takes a keen interest in the directors’ businesses, all the rooms are decorated with unique concepts, and the prices are set high.

Whether the rooms Montague designed are suitable for discussing business, Owen didn’t know. A suite, after all, could vary in type and concept. Owen would go and find out who Nick was meeting and where.

❊

“You can’t win every war, but we absolutely cannot allow domestic manufacturing facilities.”

In the war on drugs, dating back to the 1960s, authorities have largely written a history of defeat. Nevertheless, this investigation deserves applause for expressing the resolve to protect national territory.

The photo shows Inspector Josh of the narcotics unit, who raided a local manufacturing facility and seized over thirty pounds of heroin and methamphetamine.

“Tch, they’re having a blast.”

The team members who knew the real story skipped the article’s content and only looked at the photo. Behind Inspector Josh, standing with both hands on his hips, the seized cash and drugs were displayed like trophies.

“But do they really incinerate all that stuff?”

“Maybe, maybe not. What’s it to us?”

At Cooper’s words, Hugh responded nonchalantly while moving his own luggage.

“But this guy, no contact since then?”

Cooper pointed at Josh in the photo, now promoted from sergeant to inspector.

As if on cue, Nick’s phone rang, and he briefly showed the caller’s name before stepping away from the noise to take the call.

“Congratulations. I saw the article.”

—What’s that? We’re just helping each other out.

“That means you have some information to share, right?”

—I just got my hands on the autopsy report for the body we talked about.

“What did it say?”

—Fortunately, decomposition hadn’t progressed much. There’s a record of strong tides the day before it was found by a passing tourist. It’s estimated that it was dumped into the sea from a boat or elsewhere and washed ashore.

“Dumped?”

—Yes, the tide was flowing from the open sea toward the coast that day.

If it was dumped, it could have come from a boat or a nearby island. That would put Victor’s island in the range.

—It was completely unclothed, so we knew identifying it would be tough, but for now, it’s John Doe. No registered fingerprints, and while we’ll keep the DNA in the database, there’s no match among reported missing persons so far.

“What was the cause of death?”

—Surprisingly, it wasn’t drowning. Death occurred before entering the water. They’re estimating cardiac arrest due to a drug overdose. But it seems the brain had already suffered significant trauma before that.

“…Like the victim from the manufacturing facility?”

—Yes, I was just about to mention that. You remember. It’s very similar. The residual acid pheromones in the body exceeded lethal levels. With that amount, it seems death occurred shortly after the drug was administered. Just like the victim from the facility, the heart was overworked and, well, went into shock. The coroner recognized it immediately because these cases have been increasing lately. That damned acid pheromone or whatever it is. Other stimulant drugs are bad, but this one has an especially high death rate. Who the hell develops this kind of crazy drug?

“…”

—Oh, and there’s one more similarity. The washed-up body’s pheromone gland was completely destroyed. The doctor said it was practically assault. Not physical assault, but chemical. It looks like some lunatics tried to force a bond on someone who was already bonded.

Lunatics?

“Plural?”

—Well… that’s what they’re guessing. Sure, there’s dominant and recessive, but people are all pretty similar, right? Could one person really do that much?

“So you think it’s more likely a group conspiracy.”

—Well… it’s slightly more probable, so we’re looking at it that way.

Nick didn’t agree, but there was no need to argue with Josh. In Nick’s view, an elitist alpha obsessed with superiority wouldn’t likely seek help from other alphas.

“Thanks for the information.”

—What’s that? I know this doesn’t settle the score. I’m not that shameless, so expect my full cooperation going forward. There are all sorts of people in the world, but don’t we have to catch these lunatics?

The ambitious narcotics inspector added a comment that sounded like a favor and hung up.

“Boss, what’s wrong? You don’t look good.”

“Just heard some bad news.”

“By the way, is that narcotics guy gonna be our connection here? In this area?”

“Not yet. We’ll see.”

Nick said as much, but if he was going to stay in New York, he’d need to build connections here too.

“Boss, don’t tell me this is gonna be the New York branch of Security Solutions.”

Simon, who had flown in with Cooper, gestured around in disgust while cleaning his rifle.

“Why? I like it.”

Cooper raised a champagne glass to explain why the hotel room was a good choice for an office.

Cooper was a heavy drinker. When a whale opens its mouth wide to eat krill, it takes in massive amounts of seawater too. No matter how much seawater it swallows, it’s not dangerous to the whale. For Cooper, alcohol was like the seawater a whale gulps down. Not the krill, though.

“Come on, think about it. Did you forget how the hotel staff were eyeing us when we came in? We’re lucky we disguised it as travel luggage. If we’d moved with weapon cases like usual, the FBI would’ve been called, and we’d be hearing sirens by now.”

Hugh agreed with Simon’s opinion and explained why.

“Tch.”

Acknowledging it was just talk, Cooper quietly sipped his champagne.

Unless you had a boss generous with employee benefits, when else would you get to sit in a famous New York hotel suite drinking Dom Pérignon P2 to your heart’s content? Security Solutions paid well, but not well enough to order Dom Pérignon through room service on your own dime. With the service charge, the already expensive liquor got even pricier.

“More than anything, we need a warehouse. Security here is weak. Moving weapons in a typical New York building is too much hassle. Boss, if we’re seriously staying in New York, what we need is a standalone building with a good loading dock. Buy an old factory in Brooklyn and renovate it or something.”

Simon called out to their boss, who wasn’t looking back while tending to his gear. Nick Stockton stood gazing out the window, as if he hadn’t heard.

Wearing a dark combat shirt and tactical cargo pants, Nick Stockton’s identity was clear without needing words. Their boss could pull off various outfits, but combat gear suited him best—an alpha among alphas. No one had ever doubted his strength, not even for a moment.

But the team sometimes teased Nick, calling him a broken alpha.

You could resist an omega’s pheromone provocation. If your traits were strong, you might hold out longer. But no one could resist forever. After all, we’re all beasts under the influence of hormones and pheromones.

Yet Nick Stockton was a strange breed who held out to the end. He didn’t seem to take special drugs or struggle to resist. If he wasn’t in the mood, he simply didn’t act. From what Simon had seen on the job, Nick Stockton only satisfied his sexual urges when he felt like it and the situation allowed, not because of pheromones.

To Simon, Nick was different. It wasn’t just a matter of stronger or weaker traits. Of course, Nick had never confirmed it himself, and no one dared voice their suspicions aloud, but their boss was definitely special in some way. If he was that special, you’d think instinct would drive him to seek an omega, yet Nick Stockton acted like someone with no desire to reproduce.

Then that man declared he’d met his omega. It was a bit late, but the team thought it was good he’d finally found a mate. Even a lonely Neanderthal had found his match.

They wanted to congratulate him purely, but John said something strange. Nick Stockton’s omega was someone completely unexpected. Even now, some headquarters staff thought the current job was just a project commissioned by Chairman Rose. Truth be told, Simon was on the fence about it too.

In the end, it was all just talk from John, since their boss rarely spoke at length about anything unrelated to work. Since they had time, it wouldn’t hurt to confirm with the man himself.

“Boss, John’s been blabbing so much that everyone who needs to know already does, but it’s such a huge gap from your usual taste. Is it true you’re dating Chairman Owen Rose?”

Anyone seasoned in this industry would cringe at how hard it is to understand the minds of the upper class. And not just any upper class—someone like the chairman of Rose Corp is probably in the top 0.01%.

“It’s true.”

Looking out the window, Nick answered without a hint of hesitation.

“Does the other person know that too?”

Nick’s back twisted as he turned to look at Simon. There wasn’t a trace of playfulness on his face.

“We’re going to get married.”

“…Okay.”

If the boss said so. Simon shrugged and mentally filed away the fact that Owen Rose was the boss’s omega.

There was nothing to be done if he made an unusual choice. Hormones are weird things. They often make people do strange stuff.

“Brooklyn’s bad for mobility. The heliports are all far.”

Feeling the need for a New York branch again, Frank, who had been listening quietly, offered an opinion.

It was a valid counterpoint. The reason they chose this hotel was that it agreed to let them exclusively use the rooftop heliport for a set time. Paying these kinds of costs every time they needed a helicopter ride didn’t make sense.

“I’ll look into an office.”

Owen had generously offered the mansion in New Jersey. Nick had planned to decline at the time, but on second thought, checking it out might not be a bad idea. Considering attention and vehicle movement, downtown New York was too complicated.

“But is it okay to show this stuff to a kid?”

What Cooper pointed to were the weapons spread out on the table.

The operation was set for dawn tomorrow. Even if they packed them into luggage for transport, they needed to complete basic gear checks and vest setups. Everyone in the room was a pro. Without being told, the first thing they did after checking in was unpack their luggage. They each claimed a table-like surface, spread out their gear, and started setting up.

“Family should stick together.”

Frank answered.

“Don’t worry. I drilled it into them that they absolutely can’t touch anything while we’re handling weapons.”

Hugh added reassuringly.

“That’s wild. You’re already showing the kid weapons?”

“It’s our job. Why, should we hide it?”

Frank shrugged, not understanding, as if it was obvious. As he said, Frank and Hugh’s kid stayed close to Frank’s side instead of going near the people handling gear. Frank and Danny sat on a sofa a bit away from the cluttered meeting table.

“I’m hungry. What’re we ordering for dinner?”

“I’m looking at the menu now.”

Listening to Hugh and Frank’s cozy back-and-forth, Nick’s thoughts drifted to Owen, left at home.

Should he have stayed longer?

The night was long anyway, and gear prep was something he could do blindfolded. Planning to do his own once the cluttered table was cleared, Nick set down his Sig Sauer and walked toward Frank, who was looking at the menu. He hadn’t meant to, but when the kid reached out, Nick naturally picked them up.

“Frank, I’ve got a question.”

The kid, perhaps having grown familiar, tried to stay in Nick’s arms. But this was work time. Nick handed the kid back to their parent.

“Do kids usually greet people like this?”

He asked, wondering if it was normal for a kid to be so clingy with just anyone.

“Not really. They’re just being fussy because they don’t want to walk or want to be held. I don’t indulge it, so they tried it with someone easier, and you picked them up.”

“Oops.”

Already using people as transport—pretty clever for a little one.

“Why don’t you hold them?”

“It’s tiring! My back would give out. They may look light, but holding them for long is heavy.”

“Uh… is it okay to say that so openly where they can hear?”

Cooper pointed at Danny’s head from a distance.

“I’m raising them tough.”

Nick quietly observed Frank, who was chugging an energy drink.

Frank was the only omega on Nick’s team who worked in the field. Having already bonded with Hugh when he joined, he was free from pheromones, which made it possible. Thanks to that, Nick and the others could interact with Frank without much awareness of him being an omega.

He looked like a short, stocky soldier. He was strong enough to shoulder and fire an RPG-7 anti-tank rocket. For someone like Frank to say it was tough…

Hugh and Frank’s son, Danny, was already tall enough to easily clear an adult man’s thigh. Constantly carrying a kid like that might indeed be too much.

Nick finished his observation and made a decision. Any kids Owen has would walk on their own as soon as they’re weaned.

Even if Owen was a bit taller, in terms of muscle mass or training, Owen was far more delicate. If even a trained soldier like Frank complained about back pain, Owen couldn’t be burdened with it. Raise them strong.

“Sounds like a good approach.”

Nick expressed agreement with Frank’s parenting philosophy.

“Right? Frank’s always right.”

Having been listening to his partner’s conversation from afar, Hugh chimed in like a fool while opening a new gear case.

What Hugh was checking now was lodging security. Even for a one-night stay, they couldn’t lower their security standards. John had already hacked into the hotel’s control room using a program. Since they were just monitoring alongside, the hotel staff didn’t even know they’d been hacked.

From countless screens, they pulled only the necessary ones onto the monitor. The small, split windows now showed the hotel’s entrance. After confirming nothing unusual, they switched the camera feed.

The new feed on the monitor showed the elevator entrance and hallway of the floor where Nick’s group was staying. Up to this point, they were viewing the hotel’s CCTV footage.

The next switched feed had slightly different quality. The camera angle moved freely. When a small joystick-like device was moved, the camera rotated 360 degrees accordingly.

The high-quality feed came from a reconnaissance camera. It was a scout bot, useful for checking the situation ahead at operation sites. The size of a fist, it was small and nearly silent. Most importantly, it could cling to ceilings freely, making it almost impossible to detect. It quietly and reliably mapped the site in real-time, sending the feed to a terminal—a cute, well-behaved little helper.

They could send someone to scout the lodging’s surroundings, but two robot cameras were convenient, fast, and, above all, avoided human attention.

“Corridor clear. I’m hungry, Frank. Did you order food?”

“Don’t we need to clear the table before ordering?”

They’d already received suspicious looks during check-in. A group of burly men dragging luggage in a line was bound to raise eyebrows. If they ordered room service and someone saw a hotel room littered with firearms, a report would definitely be filed next time.

“Operation’s at 06:00. Frank’s right. Finish gear checks before food arrives. Hurry up.”

“My point exactly. A hotel won’t do.”

Frank’s comment was aimed at Cooper, who was sipping champagne, but Cooper just clicked his tongue and turned away. Hugh returned his gaze to the monitor.

A change appeared on the monitor. Their floor had only two rooms. As confirmed, the other room had no guests tonight. Accessing this floor required clearance. You needed an authorized keycard to press the elevator button, but someone had just entered their floor number.

“Someone pressed our floor.”

“For the record, I haven’t called room service yet.”

Hugh’s low remark was followed by Frank confirming no one should be coming up.

“Did we get made? Did that crazy cousin figure out we’re tracking him?”

“Wake John up first, connect him. We can’t have a shootout here. Stop them from getting off the elevator.”

“What weapons do they have? Rifle? Pistol?”

To decide which weapon to grab, Simon asked about the intruder’s armament.

“Looks… empty-handed.”

“Empty-handed?”

Cooper and Simon exchanged incredulous looks in the air.

“What kind of confidence is that?”

Simon grabbed a pistol from his gear in progress and quickly attached a suppressor.

“Is it a suicide vest or something?”

“What do they think this place is? Don’t be ridiculous. It’s New York.”

“I’m saying that because it’s New York. Hasn’t John woken up yet?”

—I wasn’t sleeping, you know? Let’s handle the elevator first. Okay… they just reached the top floor, stopped. Can’t press the emergency bell… blocked. Done.

“What’s going on inside?”

—No way to know. I cut all the power. Lights are off, cameras are off. Hotel security will move soon. Decide quickly—bring them in or drop the elevator.

“What do we do?”

Hugh looked toward Nick, but Nick seemed to be in another world since earlier. He must have heard the team’s exchange, but he said nothing. Hands in his pockets, he was staring out the window. The boss was half-absent.

“What a hassle. It’s just one person, right? Just drop it.”

Ignoring the silent boss, Cooper tossed out a reckless suggestion.

“No, that’s not an order. Stop, John.”

Afraid John might take it as a command and act, Simon hurriedly intervened.

—I’m not entirely against it, you know?

“Boss, seriously, get in on this. If we’ve really been made, tomorrow’s gonna be tough with our crew.”