Chapter 7 #2
“Let’s begin,” I say, taking control of the situation before it derails further. “The summit has been rescheduled for next Tuesday. Our presentation slot is at 10 AM, followed by Synercom at 11:30 and Titan Global’s investor panel at 2 PM.”
Adrian nods, seemingly grateful for the return to business. “We need to adjust our approach given the competitive positioning. Elle has prepared a comparative analysis of our neural interface against likely counterproposals.”
I open my tablet, pulling up the relevant documents.
As I lean forward to swipe to the next page, a fresh wave of heat pulses through me, sudden and intense.
I freeze, heart hammering as I feel sweat beading at my hairline.
This isn’t right. This isn’t the gradual progression I’m used to. This is something else.
“The neural interface offers three key advantages,” I continue, my voice only slightly strained. “First, response time is 32% faster than current market leaders. Second, user adaptation requires minimal training. Third, the neural pathway mapping is non-invasive, unlike competitors’ offerings.”
“Including Synercom’s,” Caleb adds, his eyes never leaving my face. “Though our quantum processor could reduce that response time gap significantly.”
“Theoretical applications,” Adrian dismisses. “Your processor isn’t compatible with neural interfaces yet.”
“Yet,” Caleb repeats, smile sharpening. “We’re closer than you think, Cole.”
I swipe to the next slide, acutely aware of how my blouse clings to my back, damp with sweat despite the room’s perfect temperature.
The heat is building faster than it should, pulsing in waves that make my vision blur at the edges.
Miles is watching me now, his cool assessment more concerning than Caleb’s obvious interest.
“The market positioning slides show potential overlaps,” I say, pushing through. “If we highlight the medical applications first—”
“You’re flushed,” Miles interrupts, his voice matter-of-fact. “Do you need a break?”
Three pairs of eyes lock on me with laser focus. I straighten my spine, refusing to show weakness.
“I’m fine,” I reply firmly. “The medical applications segment—”
“Your blockers are failing,” Miles states, not a question but a fact. “The stress is accelerating your cycle.”
The room goes deadly silent. Adrian’s posture stiffens, his knuckles whitening against the tabletop. Caleb leans forward, all pretense of casualness evaporating.
“That’s not relevant to this meeting,” I say, ice in my voice despite the fire in my veins.
“It’s relevant to everything happening in this villa,” Miles counters. “Ignoring it doesn’t make it less true.”
Before I can respond, Caleb leans across the table, closing the distance between us. “How long?” he asks, voice dropped to an intimate murmur. “Until your heat hits fully. How long do we have to pretend this isn’t happening?”
“That’s enough,” Adrian snaps, half-rising from his chair.
“No, it’s not,” Caleb challenges, eyes still fixed on me. “We’re all adults here. Three Alphas, one Omega approaching heat. Ignoring it doesn’t make it go away. It just makes it more dangerous.”
Another pulse of heat washes through me, this one strong enough that I have to grip the edge of the table to steady myself. The room spins slightly, my body betraying me in the most fundamental way.
“Elle,” Adrian’s voice cuts through the fog, concern bleeding through his usual control. “What do you need? Tell me what you need.”
“Space,” I manage, pushing back from the table. “I need space.”
I stand, perhaps too quickly. The room tilts, and suddenly Miles is beside me, his hand under my elbow, steadying me without drawing attention to my weakness. His touch is cool through my sleeve, an anchor against the storm building inside me.
“This meeting is adjourned,” he says quietly. “We’ll reconvene when everyone is more focused.”
“I don’t need coddling,” I insist, though my voice lacks conviction.
“No,” Miles agrees, “but you need time to adjust your blockers. And these two need to cool down.”
He guides me toward the door with subtle pressure. Adrian rises, concern etched into his perfect features.
“Elle—”
“I’ve got this,” I cut him off, needing to maintain at least the illusion of control. “I just need a moment.”
Caleb watches me with heated intensity, his casual mask completely dropped. “This isn’t just blocker failure,” he says, voice rough. “This is accelerated onset. The island’s isolation, three unmated Alphas in close quarters—your body’s responding to primitive triggers.”
“Very scientific analysis,” I snap, embarrassment fueling anger. “Next you’ll be offering to help me through it, I suppose? How altruistic.”
His smile is slow, predatory. “If you’re taking volunteers...”
Adrian actually growls, the sound so primal it raises the hair on my arms. “One more word, Rios, and I’ll throw you off the fucking balcony.”
“Keep it down,” Miles repeats, more forcefully this time. “All of you. This isn’t helping.”
I pull away from Miles’s steadying hand, needing to escape this room, these men, my own traitorous body. “I’m taking a break. When I return, I expect everyone to behave like the professionals they claim to be.”
I make it to the hallway before Caleb catches up to me, moving with the fluid grace that makes him so dangerous. He steps in front of me, not blocking my path completely but making it impossible to pass without acknowledging him.
“You don’t have to face this alone,” he says, voice dropped to a murmur that sends unwanted shivers across my skin. “Any of us would help you through it. All of us, if that’s what you wanted.”
The image his words conjure makes my knees weak, heat pooling low in my belly.
Three Alphas, focused entirely on me, on my pleasure, on satisfying the hunger that’s already building in my core. It’s the most primitive Omega fantasy, the one I’ve always been too professional to acknowledge, even to myself.
“That’s inappropriate,” I manage, voice strained.
“Maybe,” he agrees, leaning closer still. His lips brush my ear as he whispers, “But I can smell how much the idea appeals to you, Elle. Your blockers can’t hide everything.”
Adrian appears in the doorway behind us, his face thunderous. “Rios,” he growls, the single word loaded with warning.
Caleb straightens, hands raised in mock surrender, but his eyes never leave mine. “Just having a private conversation.”
“There is nothing private happening in this villa,” Adrian says, moving forward to physically insert himself between us. “Step back. Now.”
I should be irritated by his high-handedness, by the way he assumes I need protection. Instead, I find myself responding to his presence, to the waves of protective Alpha energy radiating from him. My body recognizes what he’s offering on a level deeper than conscious thought.
“I don’t need a guardian, Adrian,” I say, despite the evidence to the contrary.
His eyes meet mine, gray and stormy. “I know you don’t. But I need you to be safe.”
The raw honesty in his voice catches me off guard. This isn’t just about territorial Alpha instincts. This is something else, something I’m not prepared to examine too closely.
“I’m going to my room,” I announce, needing escape. “I’ll return when I’ve collected myself.”
Caleb watches me with knowing eyes as I slip past them both, his amber gaze heating my skin like physical touch. Adrian remains tensed, ready to intervene if Caleb makes another move.
As I retreat down the hallway, I hear Miles’s voice, quiet but firm: “Both of you, back off. She doesn’t need this shit right now.”
I close my bedroom door behind me, leaning against it as my legs finally give way. I slide to the floor, heart racing, skin burning, reality crashing down around me.
The blockers have failed almost completely. My heat is accelerating, responding to the presence of three unmated Alphas, each offering something my biology craves—Adrian’s protection, Caleb’s playfulness, Miles’s steady strength.
“This isn’t happening,” I whisper to the empty room. “This can’t be happening.”
But it is. And all my rules, all my careful planning, all my professional boundaries are crumbling like sand castles before an incoming tide.
The heat is coming, faster than I calculated, stronger than I anticipated. And when it hits fully, there will be nowhere to hide.
Not from them. And not from myself.