Page 27 of The Sterling Acquisition (Manufactured Mates #1)

Chapter eighteen

Unraveling

Orion

Orion closed the pre-Adjustment economics textbook with more force than necessary, the sound echoing through Leo’s living room like a gunshot.

The harsh corporate lighting emphasized the institutional beige walls and mass-produced furniture that defined SVI’s idea of “luxury” housing.

The kitchen still smelled faintly of burned sauce and disappointment.

“Good book?” Leo asked from his position at the dining table, not looking up from the papers he’d been reviewing for the past hour.

His words carried the careful pronunciation of someone who’d been drinking steadily since coming home from work.

The wine bottle beside him went from full to half-empty, the level dropping with each passing hour.

“Educational,” Orion replied, setting the book aside and reaching for another from the stack Leo had begrudgingly provided.

Something about corporate law that would probably be just as depressing as the economics text.

The books’ spines were pristine—clearly for display rather than regular reading.

Another prop in Leo’s attempt to create the illusion of normality.

The domesticity of it all made his skin crawl.

Him reading quietly while Leo worked, like they were some functional couple instead of captor and captive.

The cleaning he’d done earlier left him feeling hollow and strange—a reminder that his contract had originally been for domestic servitude with claiming rights, not full ownership.

A distinction that mattered less and less each day.

He tugged at the collar of his shirt, making sure it covered the mark Dante left on his collarbone.

The bruise was fading but still visible, a dark reminder of teeth and surrender that made something twist in his stomach every time he thought about it.

His fingers traced the outline through the fabric, the slight tenderness a physical memory of the moment Dante’s control fractured.

And he couldn’t stop thinking about that fucking kiss.

About the way Dante looked at him afterward, like he claimed something precious.

That was somehow more unsettling than the bite mark—the gentleness more dangerous than the violence.

Physical dominance was something Orion understood and could fight against. But the way his heart raced when Dante’s lips touched his, the breathless confusion afterward.

.. that was unfamiliar territory. It was a weakness he couldn’t afford.

The suppressants were wearing off. He could feel it in the energy building beneath his muscles, the way his senses seemed unnaturally sharp.

The fabric of his shirt felt too rough against his sensitive skin.

The air in the apartment seemed too thick, too warm, despite the climate control keeping everything at a precise 72 degrees.

Every few minutes, Orion could feel Leo’s eyes on him, the weight of those glances growing heavier each time .

“I think I’ll go to bed,” Orion said, closing the corporate law book. He managed maybe ten pages, his mind too restless to focus on dry legal language. He shifted position, acutely aware of how Leo’s attention tracked the movement.

“Already?” Leo looked up, his expression unfocused. The wine had left a flush across his cheeks and a glassy quality to his eyes. “It’s not that late.”

“Long day.” Orion stood, noting the way Leo’s gaze tracked his movement with uncomfortable intensity. “All that cleaning.”

Leo’s smile was loose, pleased. “You did a good job today. Very... thorough.”

The praise made Orion’s teeth clench, but he managed to keep his expression neutral. His jaw ached with the effort of maintaining the mask of compliance. “Thank you.”

“And the cooking attempt was sweet, even if it didn’t work out.

” Leo’s voice carried genuine warmth, the kind that made Orion feel worse than outright cruelty would have.

The sincerity in his tone made the situation more twisted—Leo believed they were making progress toward some warped version of domestic harmony.

“It’s nice, having you take an interest in. .. domestic things.”

Domestic things. Like he was a pet learning new tricks. Like his participation in his own captivity was something to be celebrated.

“I’m still learning,” Orion said, each word chosen to maintain the fragile pretense.

His hands curled into fists at his sides, then deliberately relaxed.

Three months ago, he would have thrown that sentiment back in Leo’s face with vicious satisfaction and probably a plate.

Now he stood docilely accepting praise for burning dinner.

How far he’d fallen in the name of strategic compliance.

“Of course. These things take time.” Leo took another sip from his wine glass, his movements getting looser. The artificial light caught the deep burgundy liquid, making it look almost black. “Dante says the psychological adjustment period can be complicated.”

There it was. Dante’s name dropped into the conversation like a stone into still water. The ripples of tension spread instantly, invisible but unmistakable. Orion felt his pulse quicken, the sound suddenly loud in his own ears.

“He’s been very helpful,” Orion replied, proud that his voice remained steady despite the immediate tightness in his chest. His body’s reaction to just hearing Dante’s name was becoming a liability—a dangerous tell he couldn’t seem to control.

“Has he?” Leo’s tone was casual, but something in his expression sharpened. The wine-induced haziness temporarily receded, replaced by focused interest. “What exactly are his techniques? His methods seem so effective.”

Orion felt ice settle in his stomach, a stark contrast to the heat building beneath his skin. “I’m not sure I understand.”

“The consultation sessions. What does he do during those private assessments?” Leo leaned back in his chair, wine making him more direct than usual. The chair creaked under his shifting weight. “I’m curious about Gensyn’s psychological approaches.”

“He asks questions. About my motivations, my resistance patterns.” Orion kept his voice clinical, professional while his mind raced through the potential dangers of this line of questioning. “Psychological mapping, he calls it.”

“Just questions?”

“Mostly.”

“Hmm.” Leo took another drink, his gaze becoming more focused despite the alcohol. The wine glass made a too-loud sound when he set it back on the table. “It’s interesting how much you’ve changed since he started working with you. More... manageable. More willing to engage in domestic activities.”

“The sessions help me understand my situation better.” Orion could hear the hollowness in his own words, the rehearsed quality of a line delivered too many times under his breath in his cage. The script they’d been working from was starting to tear at the edges.

“I’m sure they do.” Leo’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “How do you feel about Dante? Personally, I mean.”

A bead of sweat formed at his hairline, threatening to betray his composure. “He’s competent. Professional.”

“Professional,” Leo repeated the word like he was tasting it, rolling it around his mouth like the wine he’d been drinking. “I’ve been wondering about how professional he really is.”

Orion could feel the conversation shifting into dangerous territory. Leo might be drunk, but he wasn’t stupid. Something had triggered his suspicion, and now he was probing for answers with the kind of determined focus that alcohol sometimes intensified rather than dulled.

“I should really get some sleep,” Orion said, moving toward the door. The few steps to escape felt like miles as Leo’s attention narrowed on him.

“You smell like him.”

The words stopped Orion cold. He turned slowly. “What?”

“You smell like another Alpha. Not just during the consultation sessions—all the time now. More and more each day.” Leo stood, his movements careful but deliberate. The chair scraped against the floor as he pushed it back. “Why is that, do you think?”

Orion’s mind raced through possible explanations, none of them good. The failing suppressants left him vulnerable, his body reacting in ways he couldn’t control. He could feel sweat gathering at the small of his back. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Don’t you?” Leo moved closer, and Orion could smell the wine on his breath mixed with something that might have been suspicion.

“Because I’ve been wondering about a lot of things lately.

About why you’re suddenly so cooperative.

About why your scent changes after every session with Dante.

About why there was a Gensyn blanket stuffed beneath your pillow.

And about why you keep touching your neck like you’re hiding something. ”

Fuck. Orion’s hand moved to his collar again, and Leo’s eyes tracked the motion with predatory interest. His body kept betraying him with these small, involuntary gestures that revealed everything he was trying to hide.

“I don’t—”

“Show me.”

“What?”

“Your neck. Show me what you’re hiding.” Leo’s voice was cold, authoritative. The pleasant facade had dropped, revealing the possessive Alpha underneath that liked to deliver SVI asset management lessons with his fists. “Now.”

Orion backed toward the door to his quarters. The apartment felt impossibly large, the distance to safety expanding with each step backward. “There’s nothing to show.”

“Then you won’t mind proving it.” Leo stood between him and the exit, his demeanor shifting from drunk and loose to something more dangerous. “Take off your shirt.”

“No.”

“It wasn’t a request.” Leo’s smile was unpleasant. “You’re still my property, Orion. Contracted to me for another three years. If I want to inspect what belongs to me, that’s my right. ”

Property. Not a person—an asset, a possession, something purchased and owned. His hands clenched into fists, nails digging into his palms hard enough to leave crescent marks. The pain helped him focus past the growing heat and rising panic.

“I’m going to bed,” he said firmly, trying to step around Leo. The sudden movement made his head spin, his balance affected by the suppressants’ decreasing effectiveness.

Leo’s hand shot out, catching his wrist with enough force to make him gasp. The contact burned. “You’re going to answer my questions. Starting with why you’re nesting with another Alpha’s things and ending with what the fuck Dante has been doing to you during those private sessions.”

Orion tried to pull away, but Leo’s grip tightened, fingers digging into the tendons of his wrist. “Let go of me.”

“Not until you tell me the truth.” Leo’s other hand moved toward Orion’s collar. His fingers brushed against Orion’s throat, the touch making his skin crawl with revulsion. “What has that Gensyn bastard been—”

Orion’s free hand came up fast, connecting with Leo’s jaw in a solid punch that sent the man stumbling backward.

The impact jarred up Orion’s arm, the satisfying shock of it momentarily clearing his head.

Leo released his wrist, more from surprise than pain, and Orion used the opening to bolt for his room.

He barely made it through the door before Leo’s voice followed him, cold and furious. The sound echoed through the apartment, bouncing off the walls.

“I know something’s going on!” Leo shouted. “I know he’s been touching you! And when I figure out what kind of game you two are playing, there’s going to be consequences! ”

Orion slammed the door and heard the locks engage—the familiar mechanical click that had been both prison and protection for the past year.

His hands shook with adrenaline and fear as he pressed his back against the door, listening to Leo’s continued threats from the other side.

The cool surface provided momentary relief against his overheating skin.

“You think I’m stupid? You think I don’t notice the way you look at him?

The way you smell like sex and secrets every time he leaves?

” Leo’s voice was getting louder, more unhinged.

The control he normally maintained for appearances was gone, eroded by wine and jealousy.

“I paid 2.7 million for you! You belong to me!”

The words devolved into incoherent shouting, punctuated by the sound of something being thrown against a wall—glass shattering, probably the wine bottle. Leo was having a complete breakdown, and Orion was trapped in his room with nowhere to run.

This is bad. This is very, very bad.

Leo had pulled his head out of his ass long enough to notice something was happening between him and Dante. Knew enough to be dangerous, to start asking questions that could blow their cover. And drunk Leo was unpredictable Leo—the kind who might do something desperate and stupid.

The shouting from the other room stopped, replaced by an ominous silence that was somehow worse. Orion pressed his ear to the door, trying to hear what Leo was doing.

The sound of a phone being dialed made his blood run cold.

“Dr. Morrison? It’s Leo James. I know it’s late, but we need to move up the timeline.”

Orion’s heart stopped, a moment of perfect stillness before accelerating to a painful rhythm .

“No, I can’t wait until his heat starts naturally. Something’s compromised the process. I think...” Leo’s voice dropped, but Orion could still hear the words that sealed his fate. “I think someone’s been interfering with my asset. We need Project Tether implemented immediately.”

The phone call continued, but Orion heard enough. Leo was accelerating Morrison’s timeline out of jealousy and suspicion. Which meant he had hours, not days, before someone came to drag him to Morrison’s lab.

He moved to the wall that separated his room from Dante’s apartment and began tapping. Three short, three long, three short. The SOS pattern that kept him sane during the worst days of his captivity.

Tap tap tap. Tap-tap-tap. Tap tap tap.

He repeated it over and over, his knuckles growing sore from the impact against the concrete. The pain helped focus his thoughts, cutting through the fog of heat beginning to cloud his mind. Dante had to be there. Had to hear him. Had to understand what this meant.

He needed to contact Dante. Needed to warn him that their careful plans had just gone to hell because Leo noticed what should have been obvious from the beginning.

But first, he needed to figure out how to survive the next few hours without getting dragged away for forced bonding before Dante could extract him.

Time to find out if all those escape attempts over the past year taught him anything useful.

Because ready or not, it was time to run.