Page 28 of The Sterling Acquisition (Manufactured Mates #1)

Chapter nineteen

Damage Control

Dante

He dropped the duffel bag containing emergency provisions and settled into his chair. Forty-eight hours of careful planning compressed into a single night of frantic preparation, but they were as ready as they could be for the extraction window tomorrow evening.

Stealing classified technology from a secured facility while extracting a high-value asset, all without leaving traces that could start a corporate war.

Just another day in the life of a Gensyn operative.

His encrypted phone buzzed with an incoming call, and Dante felt his brief moment of satisfaction evaporate .

“Good morning,” he answered, keeping his voice neutral despite the exhaustion.

“Dante, darling! I hope you don’t mind the early call, but I simply had to check in on your progress.

” Amalie said, the artificial brightness in her tone—that specific cadence that indicated corporate scrutiny—set his nerves on edge.

“The Board is quite eager for updates on your acquisition timeline.”

“Everything is proceeding according to schedule,” Dante replied. “The research access has been secured, and asset extraction is planned for the next operational window.”

“Wonderful! Though I have to say, your biological markers have been quite concerning lately.” Her tone remained light, but Dante could hear the edge underneath. “Your stress indicators are reaching levels we’ve never recorded, even during your assignment to Elysian Dynamics territory.”

The Elysian mention wasn’t coincidental.

During that particularly disastrous mission, he’d ended up swallowing a data drive and meeting his extraction team from a corporate “wellness retreat” wearing nothing but a ceremonial loincloth and his steel-toed wingtips.

His bio-readings during that particular escape became something of a legend among handlers.

“The electromagnetic interference from SVI’s industrial operations has been affecting the bio-monitor calibration,” Dante said, using the same explanation that worked before. “The readings aren’t reliable in this environment.”

“Perhaps. Though it’s interesting that the interference seems to be getting worse rather than better as you acclimate to the local conditions.

” Amalie’s voice carried the kind of gentle concern that was actually a warning.

“The readings suggest your stress response is approaching dangerous levels for effective operation. ”

Translation: they were questioning his mental state and, by extension, his loyalty to corporate interests.

“I’m functioning within normal parameters,” Dante insisted. “The mission objectives remain my priority.”

“Of course they do, sweetie. I never doubted your professionalism.” There was a pause.

“All variables are under control,” Dante assured her, though even he could hear how unconvincing it sounded.

“I’m sure they are. Just remember that the Board values results over sentiment. They’re quite looking forward to examining both the technology and the test subject.” Another pause. “Complete delivery, Dante. No exceptions.”

The call ended, leaving Dante staring at his phone and processing the not-so-subtle threat. Gensyn was getting suspicious of his emotional state, and they wanted both Project Tether and Orion delivered without deviation from orders.

Which made his plan to extract Orion separately significantly more complicated.

A sharp knock on his door interrupted his strategic planning. Dante checked the time— 6:00 AM. Too early for casual visitors, which meant either an emergency or a crisis.

He opened the door to find Leo standing in the hallway, and immediately knew it was both.

Leo looked like hell as usual, sporting a new bruise on his jaw. But it was his eyes that told the real story—red-rimmed from drinking and crying, wild with the kind of desperation that came from losing control of a situation he’d never really controlled in the first place.

“We need to talk,” Leo said without preamble, pushing past Dante into the apartment .

“It’s six in the morning,” Dante observed, closing the door and noting how Leo swayed on his feet. Still drunk, but sobering up fast. “This couldn’t wait for business hours?”

“Don’t.” Leo spun around, his expression cycling between fury and something that might have been panic. “Don’t give me corporate pleasantries. I know what you’ve been doing.”

Dante kept his expression neutral despite the alarm bells going off in his head. His breath slowed, his posture straightening almost imperceptibly. His training kicked in—the transition to what his instructors called “operational focus” and what he privately thought of as his espionage zen mode.

“I’m not sure what you mean,” he replied, his voice taking on a cadence that revealed nothing while inviting elaboration.

“My asset. My property. What have you done to him?” Leo’s voice cracked on the words, and Dante could see he was fighting to maintain coherence through alcohol and sleep deprivation.

“I’ve been conducting psychological assessments as requested,” Dante replied calmly. “The same consultation work we’ve discussed multiple times.”

“Bullshit.” Leo moved closer, and Dante could smell the wine on his breath mixed with desperation. “He smells like you. Constantly. Like sex and Alpha pheromones and things that have nothing to do with consultation.”

Dante had been prepared for this conversation eventually, but he hoped to have more time to craft his responses. Now he was improvising damage control while Leo broke down in his living room.

His mind shifted into the particular clarity that came with high-stakes improvisation—the same state that had gotten him through the Elysian extraction and a dozen other impossible situations. When plans collapsed, training remained .

“You locked an unclaimed, virgin Omega in a small room for over a year,” Dante said, letting clinical detachment color his voice. “His hormone levels are destabilized. His pre-heats and heats are unpredictable and dysregulated.”

“That doesn’t explain—”

“It explains everything.” Dante moved to his kitchen, partly to put distance between them and partly to demonstrate casual unconcern. “Extended celibacy in a virgin male, combined with irregular heat cycles and constant stress? His body doesn’t know how to process normal Alpha pheromones anymore.”

Leo followed him, his movements jerky with agitation. “And what about his collar?”

Dante had been hoping the bruise would fade before Leo noticed, but his luck was running out. His mind cycled through possible explanations, discarding three before settling on the fourth—the one most likely to play on Leo’s preconceptions.

“Self-defense,” Dante replied without missing a beat. “He’s attacked me three times during our sessions. The last time I had to restrain him, and he bit me hard enough to draw blood. I returned the favor to make a point about consequences.”

“Self-defense.” Leo’s laugh was bitter, unhinged. “Because that explains why he keeps touching his neck like he’s protecting something precious.”

“Embarrassment. Biting someone during a psychological evaluation isn’t dignified behavior.

” Dante poured himself coffee with steady hands, projecting calm professionalism.

“I’m not a sexologist, Leo, but I’m sure you can draw your own conclusions about why a twenty-six-year-old virgin locked in a room alone might start producing certain. .. scents. ”

The crude implication hit its target. Leo’s face flushed with humiliation and something that might have been disgust.

“He’s been...” Leo couldn’t finish the sentence.

“Masturbating, probably. Frequently.” Dante delivered the words with clinical detachment. “It’s normal behavior for someone in his situation. Prolonged arousal with no outlet tends to create predictable responses.”

“But he smells like you specifically.”

“I’m the only Alpha who’s been in that room besides you. His system is imprinting on available pheromonal input.” Dante sipped his coffee, watching Leo process this explanation. “It’s basic biology, not evidence of inappropriate conduct.”

Leo was quiet for a moment, clearly wanting to believe the explanation but still struggling with his suspicions.

“Then why is he suddenly so cooperative? So willing to engage in domestic activities?” Leo’s voice carried desperate hope mixed with lingering doubt. “That’s not just a biological response.”

“That’s psychological conditioning working as intended.” Dante set down his coffee and fixed Leo with a steady gaze. “You asked for my expertise in behavioral modification. I’ve been providing it. The fact that it’s showing results should be cause for celebration, not suspicion.”

“But you said the timeline was problematic. That we needed more time.”

“I said the timeline was aggressive. I never said it wouldn’t work.

” Dante could see Leo wavering, wanting to accept the reassurances.

“Your asset is responding to consistent psychological pressure as the models predicted. The domestic compliance, the reduced hostility, the sexual confusion—it’s all part of the conditioning process. ”

Sexual confusion. Let Leo think Orion’s responses were just a side effect of psychological manipulation rather than genuine attraction to someone who knew what they were doing.

“Dr. Morrison wants to accelerate Project Tether,” Leo said, the words tumbling out like a confession. “I called him last night. Told him there might be interference with the conditioning process.”

Dante felt ice settle in his stomach. “What kind of acceleration?”

“Immediate implementation. He’s coming this morning to begin the preparation protocols.” Leo’s voice cracked again. “I was drunk, I was angry, I thought... I thought you might be compromising the process.”

Dante felt the walls closing in around their carefully planned extraction. Morrison was coming today to begin Orion’s chemical lobotomy, which meant they had two hours instead of the forty-eight they’d been counting on.

A lesser operative might have panicked. Dante simply shifted further into the operational focus state that saved his life dozens of times. His mind crystallized into precise clarity as years of training took over. Time slowed, options presenting themselves in orderly sequence for rapid evaluation.

“That’s unfortunate timing,” Dante said. “The psychological conditioning isn’t complete. Rushing the chemical intervention could interfere with the behavioral modifications we’ve achieved.”

“I know, I know. That’s why I’m here.” Leo looked like he was about to break down.

“Look, I... I owe you an apology. I’ve been suspicious, paranoid even.

Thinking you were trying to undermine me when you’ve been nothing but helpful.

” He ran a hand through his hair, leaving it disheveled. “I was wrong about your motives.”

Dante waited, sensing there was more coming .

“Morrison’s going to need assistance with the procedure,” Leo continued, his voice gaining strength as he found his purpose.

“Someone with Gensyn’s psychological training to help keep Orion calm during the bonding process.

Will you... Could you assist? I know it’s asking a lot, but having someone with your expertise there would make all the difference. ”

The request sent white-hot rage coursing through Dante’s veins. Leo wasn’t asking him to stop the procedure—he was asking him to help make it successful. To use his corporate training to ensure Orion remained compliant while Morrison destroyed his mind.

“One last consultation,” Dante said, his voice level despite the fury building within him. “Of course.”

“Thank you,” Leo said, relief flooding his features. “I know this isn’t your area of expertise, but having someone with Gensyn’s psychological training there to manage any resistance... it means everything.”

“Of course.” Dante ushered Leo toward the door. “We’re all working toward the same goals.”

Once Leo was gone, Dante stood motionless for a full thirty seconds, letting the fury wash through him before channeling it into operational focus.

Two hours until Morrison arrived. Two hours to steal the Project Tether research and extract Orion before they could turn him into a compliant shell of himself.

Time to see if twenty years of training were enough to accomplish the impossible.