Page 28 of Omega's Formula

She doesn’t answer. She doesn’t need to. We both know what—who—this is really about.

“Just find me answers,” I say. “I need to know the truth.”

After Sara leaves, I sit in the silence of my office and stare at the wall. The truth. As if that’s ever simple.

My phone buzzes again. This time it’s David Sun’s name on the screen.

I let it go to voicemail. Then it buzzes again. And again.

I’ve been ignoring his calls for days now. Deleting his emails without reading them. I know what he wants—proof that Nolan and I are actually trying. Blah blah blah.

I have other things to do with my time than deal with the damned Bureau.

The phone rings a fourth time, and I finally answer.

“Mr. Nilsson.” Sun’s voice is professionally pleasant, which means he’s annoyed. “Thank you for picking up.”

“I’ve been busy.”

“I’m sure. Unfortunately, I’m calling with a rather urgent matter.” Papers rustle on his end. “We’ve flagged your match for non-compliance.”

“Non-compliance?”

His tone sharpens slightly. “Mr. Nilsson, the Bureau has been exceptionally patient. But patience has limits.”

“I don’t see how—”

“ Either you begin actual cohabitation with your matched omega, or we proceed with a public press release announcing your prime match status.” He cuts me off. “ Given your profile, I imagine the media attention would be... considerable.”

The threat lands exactly as intended. A public announcement would be a disaster. Shareholders, board members, competitors—everyone would be watching. Analyzing. Judging.

“That’s not acceptable,” I say through gritted teeth.

“Then I suggest you move in with your husband, Mr. Nilsson. The apartment near the hospital would be a logical choice, since Mr. West is already established there.” A pause. “I attempted to call him as well to convey this message, but he hasn’t returned my calls.”

Of course he hasn’t. Probably too busy plotting his next move.

“I’ll handle it,” I say.

“We will also be asking for additional proof of compliance.”

I roll my eyes. “Send whatever you want to my lawyer.”

“We will do that,” Sun says dryly.

The line goes dead.

I sit there for a long moment, processing. Then I stand, grab my jacket, and head for the door.

If Nolan won’t return Sun’s calls, I’ll deliver the message myself.

The coffee shop is busier than I expected for a Tuesday afternoon. The warm smell of fresh coffee and baked goods fills the air.

Then Nolan’s scent hits me, and everything else fades away.

My vision actually blurs for a second. Every muscle in my body goes taut.

Mate, something deep inside me growls.Mine.