The Sterling Acquisition : A Steamy MM Alpha/Omega Corporate Dystopia Romance (Manufactured Mates Book 1), page 6
What would it take to make you quiet, beautiful? What would it take to replace that angry fire with something else?
In his imagination, Orion was on his knees in that sterile little room, hands bound behind his back, lips parted around Dante’s length. His eyes were bright with want instead of fury, tears streaming down flushed cheeks—not from pain or fear, but from the overwhelming sensation of being completely, thoroughly claimed.
“Please,” imaginary Orion would whisper when Dante pulled back, voice wrecked and desperate. “Please, I need—”
“What do you need?” Dante would ask, threading his fingers through that dark hair, controlling the pace, the depth, everything.
“You. I need you.”
Dante’s grip tightened on himself, water and steam creating the perfect environment for a fantasy that was probably classified as a humanitarian crisis by several international treaties. Orion’s smart mouth put to better use, those challenging amber eyes looking up at him with submission instead of defiance, the sound of his name falling from bruised lips like a prayer—
His orgasm hit him like a corporate restructuring—sudden, devastating, and leaving him questioning all his previous life choices. He braced his free hand against the shower wall, breathing hard as release washed over him in waves that had nothing to do with hot water and everything to do with storm winds and defiant eyes.
The post-orgasm clarity was immediate and brutal.
Well. That’s concerning.
Dante stood under the spray, letting the water cool while his rational mind catalogued how many professional, ethical, and possibly legal boundaries he’d just violated in his imagination. He was supposed to be conducting espionage, not developing elaborate sexual fantasies about a colleague’s traumatized Omega.
Keep using clinical terms. Maybe if you dehumanize him enough, you’ll stop wanting to—
No. That line of thinking led nowhere useful. The truth was that Orion had stopped being a “subject” the moment Orion met his gaze with intelligence and calculation and absolutely zero submission while wrestling Leo in public.
Dante turned off the water and reached for a towel, catching sight of himself in the bathroom mirror. He looked marginally more human than he had yesterday, but there was still something in his expression that had nothing to do with professional efficiency. Something hungry and possessive that would have triggered an immediate psychological evaluation if anyone at Gensyn headquarters could see it.
His phone buzzed on the bathroom counter with a message from Amalie:
Amalie
Dante, sweetie, I’ve been reviewing your biomarker data, and I have to say, some of your readings are quite elevated. Everything alright?
Dante froze, a chill spreading through his chest. If Amalie was commenting on “elevated readings,” it meant his body’s response to Orion’s pre-heat was showing up in institutional databases halfway across the continent.
Minor environmental factors. The building’s quite old. Possible interference from outdated electrical systems.
Amalie
How fascinating! Old infrastructure can certainly play havoc with our monitoring systems. Do keep an eye on those readings, though. We’d hate for you to develop any complications during your collaboration.
Amalie’s characteristic maternal warmth was there, but after working with her for eight years despite never having met face-to-face, Dante understood that last message loud and clear. Gensyn was watching, and if his biomarkers continued to suggest he was having unprofessional responses to local stimuli, there would be questions he wasn’t prepared to answer.
Dante set the phone aside and finished getting dressed, choosing his most conservative suit as armor against the day ahead. He had work to do—actual work that didn’t involve elaborate shower fantasies or tending to captivating Omegas’ injuries.
The morning briefing with Dr. Voss’s vaccination team was the kind of mind-numbing cross-company collaboration that Dante excelled at. Charts showing viral mutation rates, production efficiency metrics, cost-benefit analyses that reduced human suffering to quarterly projections. The perfect environment for a Gensyn operative to gather intelligence while maintaining professional cover.
Instead, Dante struggled to focus on anything beyond the fact that Orion was back in 4A, all alone, dealing with pre-heat symptoms that were getting progressively worse. Symptoms I could help with…
Focus. Do your actual job for five minutes.
“The biodiversity data is interesting,” Dr. Voss was saying, gesturing at a wall display showing viral strain distributions. “SVI territory sees approximately forty percent more influenza variants than comparable Gensyn regions.”
“Environmental factors?” Dante asked, forcing his attention back to the presentation.
“Partially. But also behavioral. Gensyn’s suppression protocols create more isolated population clusters. Less viral mixing, fewer mutation opportunities.” Dr. Voss’s smile was bright and academic. “Of course, that also means less natural immunity development. Your people are wonderfully healthy right up until they encounter something their systems haven’t been prepared for. There was an influenza mutation in the St. Louis Land Conglomerate that had a rather high mortality rate last year, correct?.”
“Nineteen percent mortality rate. Immune systems are not known for strength amongst Gensyn populations.” Dante confirmed. “Gensyn favors efficiency over adaptability. Classic optimization trade-off.”
“Exactly. Which brings us to some fascinating questions about Alpha behavioral patterns as well.” Dr. Voss pulled up another chart, this one showing demographic data that made Dante’s professional mask slip. “SVI’s approach to Omega management produces significantly different outcomes than Gensyn’s pharmaceutical protocols.”
“Different how?”
“Resistance patterns, primarily. Gensyn Omegas show ninety-three percent baseline compliance within sixty days of assignment. SVI Omegas...” Dr. Voss paused, consulting her notes. “Well, let’s just say our numbers are more variable.”
Duckie Chang, the nervous lab tech, snorted from his position by the coffee machine. “Variable. That’s one way to put it.”
“Mr. Chang is correct to be skeptical,” Dr. Voss continued. “SVI’s ‘forge your own destiny’ philosophy creates unique challenges in asset management. Some of our researchers have developed quite innovative approaches to behavioral modification.”
Unease settled in Dante’s chest. “Innovative how?”
“Well, take Leo James, for example. Brilliant vaccine researcher, but he’s been working on a particularly challenging domestic situation for almost a year now, to the point where it affects his productivity at work. He’s a fascinating case study in Alpha persistence.”
“I’ve met Leo,” Dante said. “He mentioned some... management challenges.”
“Oh yes, the Orion situation. Quite the investment—2.7 million iscs at debt auction. But the behavioral resistance has been extraordinary. Most assets show significant compliance improvement within the first quarter, but this one...” Dr. Voss shook her head with academic interest. “Leo’s been consulting our specialized intervention department.”
Chang’s laugh was bitter. “Is that what we’re calling Dr. Morrison’s pet project now?”
“Mr. Chang,” Dr. Voss scolded.
“Not everyone in leadership is... comfortable with the direction of the research,” Chang added, ignoring his supervisor’s warning. “Some traditionalists believe bonds should be earned, not manufactured. Which is why certain aspects of the project remain compartmentalized.”
Dante filed away both the name—Dr. Morrison—and the hint of internal resistance for future investigation. “What kind of specialized interventions?”
“Oh, I couldn’t discuss specifics. Patient confidentiality, you understand. But SVI has always been at the forefront of innovative solutions to complex human resource challenges.”
The euphemisms made Dante’s jaw tighten, but he maintained his professional smile. “Of course. Innovation is essential for competitive advantage.”
“Precisely. Leo mentioned you might have insights from Gensyn’s approaches. Cross-company collaboration can be so productive.”
“Gensyn certainly has extensive experience with optimization protocols,” Dante said, the words tasting like ash in his mouth. “Though our methods tend to pair pharmaceuticals and behavioral techniques.”
“Yes, the suppressant programs. Quite elegant, really. Chemical compliance is so much more predictable than psychological conditioning.” Dr. Voss’s excitement was disturbing. “We’ve been working on some similar approaches here at SVI. Biochemical solutions to interpersonal optimization.”
“Biochemical solutions?” Dante asked, keeping his tone casually interested.
“Oh, just some theoretical work. Early-stage research. Nothing as sophisticated as Gensyn’s established protocols, I’m sure.” Dr. Voss waved her hand dismissively. “Corporate competition, you understand. Everyone’s looking for the next breakthrough in human resource management.”
A biochemical solution from SVI? That would be unprecedented. SVI’s entire ideology centered around natural dominance—Alphas earning submission through strength. A chemical shortcut would represent a fundamental shift in corporate philosophy... and precisely the kind of technology Gensyn would pay anything to acquire.
Duckie was watching this exchange with obvious interest. Dante noted the way the lab tech’s eyes sharpened when the project was mentioned. Either he knew more about this research than his position let on, or he was smart enough to recognize valuable information when he heard it.
“Innovation requires proper research environments,” Dante said diplomatically. “And appropriate test subjects.”
“Absolutely. Which is why Leo’s situation is so valuable. A long-term, high-resistance case study provides data you simply can’t get from standard compliance protocols.” Dr. Voss’s smile remained unchanged as she discussed human experimentation. “Though I suspect his patience may be wearing thin. Deadline pressure can make people consider... alternative approaches.”
The casual way she discussed Orion as a research opportunity made Dante’s hands clench under the conference table. But the larger implication was worse—Leo was running out of time, which meant he’d be getting desperate. Desperate enough to try whatever “specialized interventions” Dr. Morrison was offering.
“Deadline pressure certainly motivates innovation,” Dante agreed, though his voice carried an edge that made Chang glance at him curiously.
“Indeed. Well, I should let you all get back to work. Mr. Ashford, if you have any insights into resistance mitigation that might benefit our colleagues, I’m sure Leo would appreciate the consultation.”
After the meeting, Dante lingered in the facility, ostensibly reviewing production data but actually trying to map the building’s security layout and identify where “specialized intervention” departments might be located. The lower levels were off-limits to his clearance level, but he noted the increased security presence and the kind of soundproofing that suggested activities requiring discretion.
His phone buzzed with a text:
Leo James
Can we talk? Something’s come up.
Leo looked like he’d been awake for three days straight when he opened the door to his apartment. His clothes were wrinkled, his eyes were bloodshot, and he was carrying himself with the careful precision of someone operating on caffeine and desperation.
“Dante, thank goodness. I need to talk to you. About the consultation situation.”
“Of course.” Dante stepped into the apartment, noting the complete absence of sound from Orion’s room. Either the Omega was sleeping, or Leo had taken more drastic measures to ensure quiet. “How can I help?”
“I wanted to apologize. For the other day, for asking you to get involved in my mess, for...” Leo gestured vaguely at his bandaged face. “All of it. And to let you know that I think I’ve found a solution.”
“A solution?”
“Dr. Voss has been consulting with our specialized intervention department. They’ve developed some techniques that might resolve the behavioral resistance issues more efficiently than traditional approaches.”
Dante stilled. “What kind of techniques?”
“The kind that Gensyn would appreciate. More medical than physical. Pharmaceutical protocols that address the root causes of defiance rather than just the symptoms.” Leo’s relief was palpable. “Chemical intervention that produces compliance, not just temporary submission.”
“That’s quite an innovative approach,” Dante managed, his voice steady despite the cold feeling building beneath his skin. “When would this intervention take place?”
“Soon. They’ve completed the animal trials. Dr. Morrison says the results are promising enough to move to human application—he is just waiting for the right subject and optimal biological conditions.”
So that’s what changed. They weren’t ready before—but now they were. And Leo’s failure positioned Orion as the perfect test case.
“Dr. Morrison wants to wait for the right window, full heat cycle for maximum receptivity.” Leo’s smile was the first genuine one Dante had seen from him. “Finally, a solution that doesn’t require me to keep failing at basic Alpha functions.”
“And the subject has been informed of this intervention?”
“Informed?” Leo looked confused. “Why would he need to be informed? It’s a medical procedure to optimize asset function. Like any other corporate health initiative.”
The casual dehumanization made Dante’s vision narrow with rage, but he maintained his corporate mask. “Of course. Optimization protocols. Very sensible.”
“So I wanted to thank you for offering to help, but I don’t think we’ll need the ongoing assessment sessions anymore. Dr. Morrison’s approach should resolve the situation definitively.”
Definitively. As in permanently destroying whatever made Orion who he was, replacing his magnificent defiance with some crude SVI chemically induced compliance.
“Actually,” Dante said, “I think continued psychological preparation might be beneficial. Medical interventions often work better when the subject has been conditioned to accept the treatment.”
Leo’s eyes brightened with interest. “You think so?”
“Absolutely. Gensyn’s protocols always include psychological preparation phases. It reduces subject trauma, improves treatment efficacy, and minimizes resistance during the procedure itself.” The lies flowed easily. “I’d be happy to switch my assessment angle to psychological preparation sessions to ensure optimal treatment readiness.”
“That... that makes a lot of sense. Medical and psychological preparation working together.” Leo nodded. “Dr. Morrison would probably appreciate the thorough approach.” This man is so desperate, it’s making him stupid.
“So these preparation sessions—how frequently would you recommend them?” Leo asked.
“Daily would be optimal. Thirty to forty-five minutes, uninterrupted. Psychological preparation requires consistency and privacy—any surveillance would contaminate the conditioning process.”
Leo frowned. “You want me to leave him alone with you again? Didn’t he hit you last time? I should be there in case he gets out of hand.”
“Trust in the process, Leo. Gensyn’s preparation protocols are proprietary for a reason—they work. You want optimal results when Dr. Morrison performs the procedure, don’t you? When is the intervention scheduled? I need to know how quickly we need to move.”
“That’s complicated. His cycles are unpredictable—sometimes pre-heat lasts hours, sometimes over a week. Dr. Morrison says we need to move fast once the next full heat starts, but we can’t plan when that’ll be.” Leo’s sighed.
Dante analyzed the implications. No set timeline. Orion could go into full heat tomorrow, or it could be weeks. And when it happened, Dr. Morrison would move. Dante might have days or hours to prevent it, with no warning beyond biological signs that even Leo couldn’t predict reliably.
“Then we should begin intensive preparation immediately,” Dante said. “Daily sessions to establish proper psychological baselines and reduce pre-treatment anxiety.”
Leo nodded vigorously. “Of course. Whatever you think is best. You’re the expert on Gensyn protocols.”
After Leo left for another meeting with Dr. Morrison, Dante sat in his apartment and tried to process the magnitude of what he’d just learned. SVI wasn’t just developing Project Tether—they were planning to use Orion as their first human test subject. And it could happen at any moment.
He now had an unknown amount of time to save the most remarkable Omega he’d ever met from being turned into a corporate science experiment. All while maintaining his cover and knowing that if Amalie discovered his true motivations, she’d have him recalled for psychological recalibration
And absolutely no way to predict when that time would run out.
Chapter seven
Lines Crossed
Dante
Dante stood in the vaccine production lab at 4:17 PM, holding a wrench and contemplating the fine art of corporate sabotage disguised as helpful consultation.
The centrifuge that processed SVI’s influenza cultures was a temperamental beast from before the Adjustment—the kind of equipment that Gensyn would have replaced with something efficient and reliable decades ago. Here, it wheezed and groaned through its cycles like an asthmatic chain smoker, held together by duct tape, prayer, and what Dante suspected was sheer bloody-mindedness.
It was also, conveniently, the exact piece of equipment Leo would need to run tonight’s culture processing. And if something were to go wrong with it around, say, 6 PM—just as Leo was planning to leave for his evening routine with Orion—well, that would be terribly unfortunate timing.
