Page 12 of Omega's Formula
I have to look away before I do something stupid. Before I close the distance between us and put my mouth right there, right where I can feel his heartbeat against my lips.
“I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing,” I say through gritted teeth, “but it won’t work. I don’t know how you arranged this match, but I’m not going to be manipulated by some omega with an axe to grind.”
“Arranged the match?” Nolan takes a step toward me, and his scent intensifies. Anger, I realize. That sharp note cutting through the sweetness is anger. It shouldn’t smell as good as it does. It shouldn’t make me want to push him until he’s furious, just to see how bright he can burn. “Are you serious right now? You think I wanted this?”
“I think you saw an opportunity and you took it. Just like last time.”
“Last time, I tried to get justice for research that was stolen from me. By your company. With your name on the paperwork. With your signature authorizing the acquisition.”
“Research that was legally acquired from its rightful owner.”
“Alistair was not the rightful owner!” West’s voice rises. His cheeks are flushed, his eyes bright with fury, and there’s something almost feral in the way he’s holding himself. Like he wants to hit me. Like he’s barely restraining himself from launching across the space between us and doing violence. I reassess my opinion of him. He’s not just a fraudster. He’s dangerous. He has a temper, possibly violent tendencies.
I should find that threatening. Instead, some dark part of me wants to see him try.
“If your claims were legitimate—”
“They were legitimate. Every single one. I have the original data. I have the research logs. I have years of work that prove that project was mine.”
There’s real pain in his voice. Real grief. For a moment, I almost believe him.
Then I remember who I’m dealing with. Charm and sob stories are the way this kind of person works.
“If you had legitimate evidence, you should have presented it properly. Everything else is just the fantasy of a bitter omega who couldn’t accept that his alpha moved on.”
West goes very still. Something shifts in his expression, the anger crystallizing into something colder. More dangerous.
“His alpha,” he repeats softly. “Right. Because that’s what I was. His property.”
I open my mouth to respond, but my phone buzzes in my pocket. I pull it out to see Sara’s name flashing on the screen.
“One moment.” I turn away, grateful for the interruption. For the excuse to create some distance from Nolan’s overwhelming presence. “Sara. Tell me you have good news.”
Her voice is clipped, professional, but I can hear the frustration underneath. “The injunction was denied. Judge Miller ruled that since the blood tests were processed throughstandard protocols and the compatibility percentage is verified at ninety-eight percent, there’s no legal basis to challenge the match.”
“That’s ridiculous. They can’t have investigated this quickly. None of that means he didn’t find some way to manipulate the results.”
“I know that and you know that, but the Bureau’s position is that their system doesn’t lie. The chemistry is either there or it isn’t, and apparently...” She pauses. “How’s the meeting going?”
I glance back at West, who’s watching me with his arms crossed over his chest. Even angry, he’s stunning. I can see how he is good at his trade. Beautiful people always have a charm advantage.
“Fine,” I grit out. “Just find another angle.”
“I’m already working on it. But Erik... you might need to actually engage with this process. At least for now. Make it look like you’re trying. The Bureau has a lot of power, and if they decide you’re acting in bad faith—”
“I’ll call you back.” I hang up and turn to face West again. My jaw aches from clenching it.
“Let me guess,” he says flatly. “Your fancy lawyers lost. It’s a shame they couldn’t be that incompetent last time.”
“The injunction was denied. Temporarily.” I straighten my jacket, trying to regain some composure. “All that means is that your fraud hasn’t been proven yet. It doesn’t mean the match is real.”
Even as I say it, I can feel how hollow the words are. The pull toward West is a physical force like gravity. Like magnetism. I want to touch him. I want to breathe him in. I want to take him apart piece by piece and find out what makes him tick, what makes him fight and what makes him moan.
I want to leave this room and never come back.
A timid knock on the door stops us both in our tracks. Sun pokes his head round. “How are you two doing? Do you have any questions?”
I’m guessing he got the same news from the courthouse that I just did. He can shove that polite subservient attitude. Not when he’s making everything more difficult than it has to be.