Page 7 of Omega's Formula

The nuisance lawsuit. The omega who’d claimed we’d stolen his research. Our legal team had eviscerated him and rightly so.

“Oh fuck,” Anna breathes.

“The omega who tried to extort money from me.” I can hear how flat my voice sounds.

Sara and Anna exchange a look I can’t quite read.

“What?” I demand.

“Nothing,” Sara says. “It’s just—ninety-eight percent, Erik.”

“The Bureau matches biology, not ethics.” I push back from the table. “If it matched us at all. This can’t be a coincidence. He’ll have arranged this somehow. It’s clearly fake. I am not putting up with this son of a bitch trying to get one over on me again. This time we get rid of him for good. Sara, spend as much as you need to. I’ll authorize whatever you need.”

“Erik—” Anna starts.

“I need to review the case. See exactly what we’re dealing with.” I’m already pulling up my contacts, scrolling for the Bureau liaison’s number.

“Or,” Anna says carefully, “you could consider that maybe, just maybe, the universe is telling you something.”

“The universe is telling me that some piece of trash is trying to scam me. Again.” The Bureau liaison answers on the second ring. Her voice is professionally cheerful in a way that sets my teeth on edge.

“Mr. Nilsson, congratulations on your prime match. We’ve been hoping—”

“It’s fake. I don’t know how he did it, but you need to investigate immediately. I am not accepting the match.”

A pause. “It’s a prime match, Mr Nilsson. You are required to meet first without preconceptions. Typically–”

“This isn’t typical. West filed a frivolous lawsuit against my company. He’s clearly trying something again, and you are being his fools.”

Another pause, longer this time. “I see. Well, sir, I should inform you that Mr. West registered under special circumstances. He has a dependent—”

“I don’t care about his circumstances. This isn’t happening. You will be hearing from my legal team in due course. I strongly advise you do not push this omega on me. It will end up being very embarrassing for the Bureau.”

“Mr. Nilsson—”

“Sort this out. This level of incompetency is ridiculous even for you.” I disconnect and find both Anna and Sara staring at me.

My phone buzzes again. It’s an email from the Bureau with the subject line: WEST, NOLAN - PRIME MATCH. Instead of investigating, the fuckers have sent me his profile and sent me confirmation of our ‘appointment’.

Fine. Let’s see who we’re dealing with. I let the lawyers deal with the asshole last time. This time, I’ll take control of the problem myself.

I open the profile. Anna and Sara lean in on either side.

The photo loads first. It’s a candid shot, not a professional headshot. The Bureau must have pulled it from his social media. He’s laughing at something off-camera, green eyes bright. He’s wearing a t-shirt with the name of a rock band on it. He looks young, unguarded, nothing like the bitter opportunist I’ve imagined. Of course, he does. That’s how conmen work. They’re charming. It’s how they get past people’s defenses.

Still, something low in my gut tightens: attraction, immediate and unwelcome.

I scroll past the photo quickly. Focus on the data.

Age: 29

Occupation: Barista, Sacred Grounds Coffee

Education: Doctorate in Biochemistry, Stanford University

Registered: Emergency Registration (Medical Dependent)

Dependent: Ellie West, Age 19, Chronic Illness