Page 5 of The Sterling Acquisition (Manufactured Mates #1)

Chapter four

Complimentary Assessment

Dante

Initial consultation complete. SVI methods prove inadequate for high-value asset optimization. Further study required.

He deleted the message with a frustrated swipe of his thumb.

How was he supposed to explain that he’d spent the night replaying every moment of his conversation with Orion?

The calculated snap of teeth that came close enough to his fingers that he felt the heat of Orion’s breath.

The moment when discussion of “negotiation” made hunger flicker across the Omega’s face.

Even now, twelve hours later, Dante could still smell storm winds and ozone on his clothes. His scent blockers had been utterly useless against the concentrated pheromone assault of being near an unclaimed Omega who’d been under stress for a year.

His bio-monitors would be logging elevated heart rate, increased body temperature, and hormone fluctuations that went well beyond professional interest. Amalie would have questions if she were monitoring his metrics closely. Questions he wasn’t prepared to answer.

His phone buzzed with an incoming message:

Amalie

Morning, sweetie! Hope you had a productive evening. Any breakthroughs in your research ?

Dante settled on:

Significant progress made. Local protocols require extensive optimization. Will continue detailed assessment.

Amalie

Wonderful! You always were thorough. Don’t work too hard

He set the phone aside and rubbed his temples. If Amalie knew what he was actually assessing, she’d either promote him or have him recalled for psychological evaluation.

Through the wall, the morning routine was already underway. Leo’s voice, tight with frustration: “Orion, please, just eat something. You missed dinner last night—”

The crash of ceramic hitting the floor was immediate and violent.

“Fuck your breakfast and fuck your fake concern!”

“It’s not fake concern, it’s basic nutrition—”

“It’s control. Everything you do is about control.”

More crashing. Leo retreating, muttering about “impossible” and “ungrateful.”

Dante smiled to himself. If Leo thought yesterday had been difficult, he was in for quite a surprise. Because Dante saw calculation in Orion’s eyes during their conversation—assessment, and the beginning of what might have been interest.

Leo was trying to break Orion with all the finesse of a sledgehammer meeting a Ming vase. Dante, on the other hand, suspected that the real challenge wasn’t breaking Orion at all, but figuring out how to convince him to choose to bend.

A knock at his door interrupted his machinations. Leo stood in the hallway, looking like he slept about as well as Dante had, which was to say not at all.

“How did it go?” Leo asked without preamble. “Your assessment yesterday? Did you learn anything useful?”

Dante weighed his words. “It was illuminating. Your subject is indeed challenging.”

“But you think you can help? I mean, did you see anything that suggested...”

“I saw potential,” Dante said, which was true in ways Leo couldn’t imagine. “But this will require a more sustained approach than a single assessment.”

Leo’s relief was palpable. “Whatever you need. How long do you think—”

“Ongoing assessment,” Dante interrupted smoothly. “Regular observation sessions to establish behavioral baselines and track response patterns. A few hours each evening should suffice.”

“Every evening?”

“Consistency is key to effective analysis,” Dante said, deploying his most professional tone. “Any gaps in the observational data could compromise the results.”

Which was complete bullshit dressed up in scientific language, but Leo was desperate enough to buy it. Dante was fairly certain he could have told Leo that optimal asset management required daily interpretive dance sessions and gotten approval at this point.

“Right, yes, of course. Scientific method.” Leo nodded eagerly. “When do you want to start?”

“Tonight. And Leo?” Dante met his colleague’s eyes. “I’ll need the same conditions as yesterday. Isolated observation. No contamination of the behavioral environment.”

“You really think that’s necessary?”

“I think it’s essential.”

Leo chewed his lip, looking torn between protocol and desperation. “Okay. But if anything goes wrong—”

“Professional consultation,” Dante assured him. “Purely observational for now.”

Dante spent the morning doing the work he was supposed to be doing—improving vaccine production efficiency and gathering intelligence on SVI’s research capabilities.

Dr. Voss gave him access to production schedules and facility layouts with the trusting enthusiasm of someone who genuinely believed exchange programs were about mutual benefit.

Duckie was even more helpful. A casual conversation over coffee revealed that the “special projects” lab was on sublevel three, accessible only with alpha-level clearance and biometric authentication.

More importantly, Duckie mentioned that weekend security was lighter, with only skeleton crews monitoring the sensitive areas.

“Just between us,” Chang had said, leaning in conspiratorially, “they’ve got big developments happening down there. Dr. Morrison flies in twice a month to check progress, and when he’s here, nobody else is allowed in. Not even Dr. Voss.”

All very useful information for his actual mission. But each new piece of intelligence came with a new calculation: how this might affect his timeline, whether he’d be able to complete his extraction before his eight weeks were up—and increasingly, what role Orion might play in all of this.

Using Orion as cover could either be his most brilliant tactical move or the first nail in his career’s coffin if Amalie discovered his newest fascination.

Worse, if Orion proved uncooperative, Dante would not only lose valuable intelligence but potentially his extraction window as well.

The risks were substantial, but the potential advantage of having someone with Orion’s stubbornness and knowledge of SVI territory was equally significant.

He just needed Orion to agree to come with him.

By the time evening came, Dante had to admit to himself that his interest in “ongoing assessment” had very little to do with helping Leo and everything to do with the fact that he couldn’t stop thinking about the way Orion said everything like it was a challenge.

His Gensyn conditioning should have been screaming warnings about compromised mission parameters and emotional attachment to assets.

Instead, it seemed to have taken the night off, leaving him to contemplate the fascinating question of whether he was more interested in stealing secrets or the beautiful, furious man in the next room.

Leo was waiting for him in the hallway outside 4A, keycard in hand and visible anxiety written across his face.

“You’re sure about this?” Leo asked. “I mean, he was... different today. More agitated than usual. He kept asking where you were.”

“He asked about me?”

“Not directly. But he kept watching the door, listening for voices in the hallway. I think your consultation got his attention.”

Dante felt heat and possession curl in his chest. “Interesting. That suggests the approach may be working.”

“Working how?”

“Behavioral engagement. He’s thinking about our conversation, processing the new variables. That’s exactly what we want.”

Leo still looked uncertain. “If you’re sure...”

“I’m sure.”

The locks disengaged one by one, and Dante stepped into Orion’s room. The Omega was sitting on his bed, his back against the wall, but there was nothing relaxed about his posture. He looked like a coiled spring, ready for violence or flight.

“Back for round two?” Orion asked, but there was a new quality in his voice. Less raw hostility, more... anticipation.

“Round two,” Dante agreed, closing the door behind him. He remained near the entrance, assessing the room and Orion’s position before making his next move. “Though I prefer to think of it as continuing education.”

“What am I supposed to be learning?”

Dante smiled, and there was nothing professional about it. “That depends on you. ”

Interestingly, Orion did not attempt to fill he silence like most people.

He let it linger while he glared at Dante, letting the air charge with possibility and threat in equal measure.

Orion’s scent hit him—stronger than yesterday, more complex.

Stress and defiance, yes, but underneath that was curiosity.

Or horniness.

The room felt even smaller with both of them in it, the air thick with competing pheromones. Dante could taste Orion’s scent on his tongue, wild and electric.

This time, Dante didn’t pretend his interest was purely professional. Mostly because he was fairly certain Orion would call him on it, and he’d had enough of being intellectually outmaneuvered by someone who was supposed to be the subject of his “assessment.”

“Tell me about your father,” he said, but instead of staying by the door, he moved into the space.

Not approaching Orion directly, but claiming territory in measured steps, making his presence felt in the confined area.

He positioned himself between Orion and the door—not blocking escape, but making it clear that any movement in that direction would require navigating through his space.

He then settled into the room’s single chair with the fluid confidence of someone who belonged there.

Orion’s eyes narrowed, tracking every subtle shift in positioning. “Why?”

“Because yesterday you answered a direct question honestly, which suggests you’re not as closed off as you pretend to be. And because I’m curious about the man who taught you to be so resourceful.”

“Resourceful.” Orion’s laugh was sharp. “Is that what we’re calling it?”

“What would you call it?”

“Survival. ”

“Fair enough.” Dante leaned back in the chair, projecting casual interest rather than interrogation. “But survival skills have to come from somewhere.”