Page 21 of The Omega Accountant

Mine, alpha instinct insisted with undiminished certainty.

Ours, partnership countered with growing conviction.

The distinction would make all the difference in what evolved between us—in what had already begun transforming from paper claiming to something neither of us had vocabulary to define fully.Somethingnot just biological but chosen, not just instinctive but deliberate.

Something worth protecting through restraint as much as through the violence already delivered to those who threatened what was mine.

7

LUCA

Heat crept beneath my skin like an unwelcome tide, rising in slow, inexorable waves.I'dfelt the warning signs all evening—the feverish flush across my collarbones, the subtle ache deep in my abdomen, the hypersensitivity that heightened every sensation to unbearable clarity.Eachlight seemed too bright, each sound too sharp, each surface against my skin either unbearably rough or devastatingly smooth.

I'd assumed the suppressants were safe, untouched in the bathroom cabinet.Ihadn't checked.WhywouldI?Thepenthouse was supposed to be secure,Matteo'spromises of increased protection a fortress around us both.Itwasn't until the heat rose thatIrealized how vulnerable we truly remained.

I retreated to my bedroom as the symptoms intensified, burying myself beneath layers of blankets as if their weight could somehow contain the biological imperative awakening in my blood.Theexpensive cotton sheets that had once felt like luxury now scraped against my oversensitized skin like sandpaper, drawing a whimperIcouldn't suppress.

This wasn't supposed to happen.Notyet.Matteohad promised stronger suppressants tomorrow.Justone more day of control, of dignity, of maintaining the fragile partnership we'd constructed atop the legal claiming that existed only on paper.

A paper claiming that my body seemed determined to make real.

I pressed my face into the pillow, inhaling deeply, searching for traces of my own scent to gauge how far the heat had progressed.Thehoney-citrus notes that typically defined me had intensified dramatically, turning heavier, sweeter, more demanding—a biological beacon designed to call to any alpha within range.Tocall to him.

"No,"Iwhispered into the darkness, the word emerging as a plea rather than a command. "Notlike this."

My fingers fumbled behind my ear, touching the suppressant patch that should have prevented this very scenario.Theedges felt loose, the adhesive failing—a technological barrier crumbling against biological imperative.Anotherwave of heat washed through me, drawing a gasp as slick warmth formed between my thighs, my body preparing itself without permission from my conscious mind.

I curled tighter beneath the blankets, as if making myself smaller might somehow contain the pheromones already saturating the air around me.Timelost meaning as the heat rose in steady increments, transforming discomfort into need, need into desperation.Idrifted in and out of fevered consciousness, each awakening bringing me closer to the precipiceI'dspent my adult life avoiding.

WhenIjerked fully awake, the room had darkened completely.Nighthad fallen whileI'dstruggled against my biology, the penthouse silent save for the soft hum of climate control and the ragged sound of my own breathing.Somethinghad changed—some shift in my surroundings had penetrated the haze of approaching heat to trigger alarm.

I forced myself upright, pushing sweat-dampened curls from my forehead asIscanned the darkened room.Themotion sent another wave of dizziness crashing over me, my body protesting the vertical position when all instinct demandedIpresent, submit, yield to the biological imperative consuming me from within.

"Focus,"Ihissed to myself, the word emerging as a command in the quiet room.

A faint gleam caught my eye—moonlight reflecting off glass from the en suite bathroom, the door standing partially open.Withtrembling limbs,Ipushed aside the blankets, the cooler air against my overheated skin providing momentary relief asIstaggered toward the bathroom.

The light switch felt cold beneath my fevered fingertips.Fluorescentbrightness flooded the space, momentarily blinding me before my vision adjusted to reveal the source of my subconscious alarm.

On the marble countertop, shards of glass glittered like crushed diamonds—the remains of the suppressant vialsMatteohad expedited earlier that day, the stronger formulation he'd promised would help until tomorrow's specialized delivery.Themedication itself formed viscous puddles across the counter and floor, rendered useless, deliberately destroyed.Notaccident.Sabotage.

Cold dread cut through the heat-haze for one clarifying moment.Someonehad entered whileIslept, despiteMatteo'slockdown protocols, despite the guards he'd stationed.Astaff member?Asecurity breach?Someonewith access, with keys, with knowledge of the penthouse layout.Someonehad ensured the suppressants would fail.Someonewanted me vulnerable, biological, at the mercy of the heat that now coursed through me with renewed intensity.

I clutched the edge of the counter as another wave crashed over me, stronger than before, my knees threatening to buckle.Myscent had transformed entirely now, heavy and sweet and desperate in a wayIbarely recognized as myself.Myreflection in the mirror showed a stranger—pupils blown wide, skin flushed, lips parted with quickened breath.TheomegaI'dspent years suppressing, denying, controlling—now fully emergent and impossible to ignore.

With the last fragments of rational thought,Ifumbled for my phone, fingers trembling so violentlyIcould barely operate the screen.Ineeded to alertMatteo, needed to warn him of the breach in security, needed...

The thought trailed into incoherence as another wave of heat consumed me, more powerful than any preceding it.Myphone clattered to the tile floor asIdoubled over, a low moan escaping beforeIcould contain it.Thesound reverberated in the bathroom's confined space, primal and unmistakable—the call of an omega in full heat.

I needed to return to the bed, to bury myself beneath layers that might contain my scent, to lock the door against whoever had done this.AgainstMatteohimself, whose alpha biology would respond to my condition whether either of us willed it or not.Thepaper claiming would become meaningless against the biological imperative of an alpha confronted with an omega in heat—his claimed omega, whether the claim existed in blood and bond or merely legal documentation.

The distance from bathroom to bedroom stretched like an impossible journey.Imanaged three stumbling steps before my legs gave out entirely, sending me to my knees on the plush carpet.Theworld tilted and spun around me, my senses overwhelmed by the intensity of my own need.

Not like this.Notas a biological imperative.Notas a prisoner of my own body.

The sound of the door opening registered dimly through my heat-addled consciousness.Heavyfootsteps approached—the unmistakable cadence ofMatteoCorvino, the scent of him preceding his physical presence like a storm front.

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