Page 16 of The Omega Project

I wave her towards the private elevator. There are seven levels in total, with three above ground and four below. Like aniceberg, the bulk of our business happens out of sight, and while most of the people who work for Vise Security have given up the luxury of windows, Emily Nash isn’t just an average employee.

She’s going to get a front-row seat to the inner workings of my world.

I watch her in the polished doors as the four of us step into the elevator. She’s positioned slightly in front of me, and the way her gaze is fixed on the control panel gives me a perfect view of her smooth neck and soft profile. Her skin is flawless, with a smattering of gold freckles sprinkled across her cheeks like a faint constellation. Her mouth is wide and pink above a firm, dimpled chin. Her forehead is also broad, but it’s her almond-shaped eyes that command attention, large and inquisitive within a frame of thick, dark lashes. I’ve studied every photograph from her social media accounts to her university access pass, and I still can’t tell if they’re blue or hazel. All I know is that they’re so full of curious light, a sizzle of anticipation races up my spine every time she glances my way.

She wore a denim skirt and a band tee to the interview yesterday, and while she tugged uncomfortably at both, the outfit flattered her better than the pantsuit she’s wearing now. She looks small and pale in the navy jacket, her luscious red hair pulled into a sleek, no-nonsense bun. Despite the subdued clothes, her scent is sweeter now, more honey than marmalade, and I think about her and her bees. Does she smell so appealing because she spends time with them, or are bees drawn to her because they mistake her for the sweetest of flowers?

The doors slide open, and we step out onto the project floor. My office is above us, but I’m serious about putting Emily straight to work. “Did Lang take you through Soren’s file?”

“I’ve had a quick look at it.” She shoots Creed a sympathetic glance. “I don’t have Derek’s modelling skills, but I’m good withdata, I know my way around most scientific documentation, and I’ve been told I have strong attention to detail.”

She does a good job of selling herself, but we can all sense her nervousness. It radiates off her in waves, and since we’re all dominant alphas, it’s intensified by our nearness. It’s not in our nature to back off and give her room, and in fact, Creed takes a small step in her direction. Not touching, but for Creed any physical show of support is a big deal. I don’t think he has willingly put his hands on anyone except our enemies in the last twelve months.

“We appreciate you coming on board,” he says, his voice dropping to a soothing rumble. “But let’s get you settled in first.”

I raise my brows, since the last time Creed settled anyone anywhere it involved a SIG Sauer, a shovel, and an eight-foot hole.

Emily smiles, a pair of dimples flirting in her cheeks. “Thanks. I’m eager to get started.”

“Perfect,” I tell her. “To orient yourself, the labs and offices are on this floor and the one below, including server and security rooms in the basement. Above us is my office and meeting rooms, and above that is a swimming pool, green space, and rec center. Lang will give you the full tour once we’ve got your credentials sorted.”

“They’re sorted,” Creed says quickly. “If she wants the tour, I’m good to go.”

Lang coughs – I assume to hide the stupid grin taking over his face – and rocks back on his heels like he’s front-row at a bloodsport. I turn my attention to Creed, catching a razor-sharp glance directed my way.

Is this how he wants to play it?

We’ve always been like two opposing forces, my take-charge approach in direct contrast to his need to control all variables. I’m not adverse to planning, but ultimately, you just have tocommit to an action and run with it. And if nearly two years of intensive research has taught me anything, it’s that controlling fate is like trying to leash a hurricane.

“Fine,” I say shortly, but turn to Lang. “Show Ms. Nash around and set her up at one of the workstations. I’ll be in my office.” I give Creed a hard look. “Check in with your team, then come join me.”

I turn and take the elevator up to my office, checking my emails while I wait for Creed. He doesn’t take long, already stripping off his black suit jacket as he strides into the room. I’m pretty sure he loses a button as he tugs up his sleeves, and I walk over and sit on the sofa while he paces from one side of the room to the other.

“We shouldn’t rush this,” he mutters, rubbing at his nape. “Too many things could go wrong.”

“We’re prepared for all outcomes,” I reply, unfazed by his mood. “It’s the right time to move things to the next phase.”

“It’s not aphase,” he snaps, his disgruntled tone at war with the scent of hope bleeding into the air. “This iseverything, and I don’t want to fuck it up.”

“You won’t.” At his pointed look, I sigh. “Wewon’t. I’ll handle the meeting, as discussed, and you can observe from the security room.”

He clearly doesn’t like the word ‘meeting’, because his brow scrunches into a fierce knot, his shoulders like boulders under his black shirt. Creed is physically much bigger than I am, with a heavy frame wrapped in hard-earned muscle. I get to the gym every day, but prefer running and swimming to lifting weights, while Creed still holds records in his platoon for deadlifting the equivalent of a small tank.

“I hope to fuck this works,” he mutters, finally coming to a stop in front of me. “I mean… she’s really sweet, you know? Andeven though her old man’s a grade-A fuck, she wants to help out. As soon as she heard about Soren, she was instantly onboard.”

“Of course she was. She’s our missing piece.”

My certainty only makes his scowl deepen. “You can’t know that, Finn. Not for certain.”

I settle back against the chair, breathing in the scent of leather, musk, and Creed. Behind him, an endless array of code bleeds across the bank of computer screens, and I smile up into his tense face. “She smells like ours. Plus, I have the data.” Not that I need it. I knew it the second I took her soft hand in mine. She’s the one we’ve been looking for, the answer buried in countless hypotheticals, interviews, and datasets. “She’s here because she’s meant to be, Tyler.”

“Yeah, but what if it all goes tits up?”

If he’s resorting to barracks’ slang, he’s more stressed than I expected, but I won’t let him own his fear. “We’re prepared, and she’s on board. This is going to work.”

“She’s not afraid of you,” he says quietly but I can hear the question in his voice. “Yesterday I thought you were going to scare her off, but today she seems almost comfortable around you. How did you do it?”

“I had a chat with her and her boyfriend last night,” I reply, leaning back and giving him a brief smile. “I’m not an idiot, Tyler. Fear and poverty are great motivators, but nectar catches more bees than vinegar.”

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