Page 68 of The Sterling Acquisition

Morrison backed toward the kitchen, still clutching the syringe. “The research—decades of work—”

“Is already destroyed.” Dante pulled out his phone, showing Morrison the burning SVI facility. “Your lab is ash. Your colleagues are dead.”

Morrison stared at the image, his face cycling through disbelief and rage. “You bastard.”

He looked at Orion with desperate hunger, and Dante saw him make the decision—the slight shift in posture, the way his grip on the syringe changed.

He’s going to try it. He’s going to try to complete the procedure.

Morrison lunged toward Orion, syringe raised. Dante moved faster than conscious thought, his hand closing around Morrison’s wrist, stopping the syringe inches from Orion’s arm.

“Bad choice,” Dante said, and twisted.

The wet snap of breaking bone was loud. Morrison screamed, dropping the syringe.

“Please,” Morrison gasped, clutching his broken wrist. “I was just following orders—”

“You forfeited your rights when you decided to touch my Omega.” Dante’s hand closed around Morrison’s throat. “The only question is whether I makeit quick.”

He squeezed until Morrison’s struggles stopped, until the light faded from his eyes and his body went limp. Then he held on for another thirty seconds, making sure.

No loose ends.

When he released the body, Morrison crumpled to the floor.

Leo shrank against the wall, his face white with terror. “Jesus Christ, Dante. You killed him.”

“I eliminated a threat,” Dante corrected, moving to cut Orion’s restraints. “There’s a difference.”

“You’re insane. Both of you are insane.” Leo’s voice shook like a building during demolition. “This is murder. Corporate will—”

“Corporate will do nothing,” Dante said, pulling a tactical knife from his harness. “They have bigger problems than explaining why their asset management program failed one Omega.”

The restraints fell away, and Orion rubbed his wrists, wincing at the raw marks left by the plastic cuffs.

“Can you walk?” Dante asked.

“I can do whatever I need to do,” Orion replied. “But we need to leave. Soon. The injection Morrison gave me—it’s making everything worse.”

Dante nodded, already running extraction protocols in his mind. “Transportation is arranged.”

“And Leo?” Orion looked at the trembling Alpha with something like contempt. “What do we do with him?”

Dante considered the question. Leo was pathetic, broken, and no longer a threat to anyone. He remained paralyzed during the entire fight, useless when it mattered most. Killing him would be efficient but unnecessary.

“That depends,” Dante said. “Do you want him dead?”

Leo made a sound that mighthave been a whimper.

“No,” he said. “He’s not worth the bullets. Let him live with what he’s lost.”

“Merciful,” Dante observed. “Though probably more cruel than killing him.”

He shouldered his weapons, noting that he had completed the entire fight without firing a single shot. The rifles had been more useful as blunt instruments than firearms—quieter, more personal, more satisfying when they actually connected.

“Time to go,” he said, moving toward the ruined door. “We have a narrow window before SVI realizes what happened here.”

Orion followed him, stepping over Morrison’s body without a second glance. At the threshold, he paused and looked back at Leo one last time.