Chapter 2
“You’ve brought your lawyer to lunch with your sister? That’s very on-brand for you, Erik.”
Anna’s voice carries that particular mix of affection and exasperation she’s perfected over the years.
I glance up from my tablet where I’m reviewing our latest sales figures.
The quarterly reports are excellent. Better than excellent.
We’ve exceeded projections by eighteen percent. That’s mind-blowing.
My sister is standing beside the table, hands on her hips. She loves telling me off. It’s practically her favorite pastime. She also knows she’s full of shit. She has no objections to Sara being her. They’ve been best friends since grade school.
Anna doesn’t even bother waiting for me to reply. She reaches over and hugs Sara first, then me.
I set the tablet aside as Anna takes a seat.
“I invited Sara because she and I need to discuss how we are going to handle the Bureau. They have been persistent about matching me with completely inappropriate omegas. I’ve asked them politely to only send me ones who are suitable and they’ve ignored me. I need to understand my options.”
Sara and Anna exchange a look that I pretend not to notice.
They can roll their eyes as much as they like.
I don’t see why I should have to deal with the Bureau harassing me.
Sara has the legal expertise to know what I can do about it, and Anna.
.. well, Anna’s my sister. She gets bad tempered if I don’t meet her for lunch regularly.
They’re also both going to give me a hard time about me not accepting any of the matches. I may as well kill multiple birds with one stone.
Sara reaches for her water glass. “They’ve sent you six match notifications in the past four months. That’s not exactly stalking. You’ve done exactly what you’re supposed to do if you don’t like the match. You’ve turned them down.”
“It’s a waste of my time. I still need to take the time to review them first to know whether they’re worthwhile. The Bureau already has my requirements. They shouldn’t send me omegas based on blood work matches alone. Every one they’ve sent has been useless.”
Anna grimaces. She doesn’t like my choice of language. Apparently, I’m not respectful enough to the omegas who are likely to be disrespectful to me and only after my money. “You’ve rejected all six?”
“They weren’t suitable.”
“Define suitable.” Anna’s eyes sharpen. She might work in environmental law rather than corporate like Sara, but she can smell evasion from a mile away.
I scan the menu so I don’t have to look her in the eye. The restaurant overlooks the harbor. It’s small, simple and unpretentious, Anna’s choice. She has a knack for finding places like this: somewhere independent where the owners run it for the love of food, not profit.
Everything on the menu looks amazing. A waiter walks past carrying a large steak with fries and what looks like everything on top. My mouth waters. I put the menu down. I’m having a salad.
“Well?” Anna demands. “What’s suitable?”
“The first omega had tattoos,” I say carefully. “The second was doing his PHD in computer science. The third—”
“What’s wrong with computer science?” Anna cuts in. She doesn’t bother arguing about the tattoos. She knows how I feel about them.
“That’s not the kind of degree someone does if they’re serious about raising a family full time as soon as they get married. I don’t want a career omega. You know that.”
Anna sighs and exchanges another look with Sara. “Fine, what was wrong with the others?”
“They had lifestyles incompatible with mine.”
“What Erik means,” Sara says, leaning back in her chair, “is that none of them fit his very specific fantasy of what an omega should be.”
“That’s not—”
“Let me guess.” Anna ticks off on her fingers. “They weren’t traditional enough. They had careers they cared about. They wouldn’t want to stay home and raise your hypothetical children while you work seventy-hour weeks.”
I don’t roll my eyes back at her, even though I want to. She can roll her eyes at me all she wants but I’m not immature enough to behave like a twelve-year-old.
“We’ve talked about this,” I say, exasperated. “I need a partner who is right for me. There is nothing wrong with traditional values. A lot of omegas want to raise their own children and take on a traditional role.”
“You just want someone who’ll smile and nod and never challenge you.” Anna’s tone has lost its teasing edge. “Erik, you’re going to end up alone if you keep this up.”
My phone vibrates against the table. I ignore it.
“Better alone than with the wrong person. Besides, I’m being practical,” I say. “Marriage is a partnership. It requires compatible goals and expectations.”
We fall silent as the waiter approaches. I order my salad and a water. Anna goes for the steak, of course. Sara orders pasta.
I need to change the subject. My love life always dominates the conversation for some godforsaken reason. Sara and Anna are far too invested.
And Sara is my employee. She should be helping me bring the Bureau to heel, not encouraging my sister.
I turn to her. “Well, can I get a restraining order on the Bureau or not?”
“Not,” she says as the waiter places her soda in front of her and a glass of white wine in front of Anna.
“Or at least, not a restraining order. We don’t need to go for the throat straight away.
Let me call them first and see what I can do.
I might be able to get them to screen the matches further before they contact you, but they are going to ask you to be reasonable about it. ”
I open my mouth to argue but Anna gets there first.
“Reasonable? Erik? You know who you’re talking about right?”
My phone buzzes and I ignore it. Lunch with my sister always ends in an argument. I don’t know why she enjoys prodding me so much.
Anna takes a sip of her wine and makes a happy noise. “This is amazing, Erik. You should try it.” She holds out the glass for me to try.
“I’m working today, Anna. You know that.”
“Suit yourself.”
Sara’s phone buzzes. Then mine again. She glances at the screen and her eyebrows rise.
“Erik.” Her voice has shifted into business mode. “You need to see this.”
She turns my phone toward me. The Bureau’s official app displays a notification banner.
CONGRATULATIONS. YOU HAVE BEEN MATCHED.
I feel a flush of irritation. Oh wonderful. Another useless omega for the Bureau to waste my time with.
“I can’t be bothered to deal with this one. Just review it and see if they’re suitable. Then I’ll look.” Sara opens her mouth, but I keep going. “My version of suitable. Not yours and certainly not Anna’s.”
“It’s a prime match, Erik,” Sara says. “98.8%”
“No, it’s not,” I say automatically. That’s impossible. No one is 98.8%, but I take the phone and scroll down.
Compatibility: 98.8%, prime match
Name: Nolan West
Initial meeting scheduled: Wednesday, 2:00 PM, Bureau Downtown Office. Attendance is mandatory for prime matches. Failure to attend may result in penalties.
It does say 98.8%. It must be a mistake.
Then the name registers.
Nolan West.
I know that name. It surfaces from somewhere in the back of my mind, familiar in a way that makes my jaw tighten.
“Well?” Anna leans across the table, trying to see the screen. “What’s the compatibility?”
“Ninety-eight percent,” Sara says before I can respond.
Anna’s mouth drops open. “Holy shit.”
“Language,” I murmur automatically, still staring at the name. Nolan West. Where do I know that name from?
“Don’t give me that.” Anna’s practically vibrating with excitement. “Ninety-eight percent, Erik. Do you know how rare that is? That’s like winning the love lottery. Oh my god. I am so glad you waited. You were right. I was wrong. This changes everything.”
I’m too thrown by the match percentage to enjoy the rare event of Anna admitting she is wrong about anything.
“It’s just a number.” But my mind is already working through the implications. Prime matches are mandatory. Refusing would mean legal challenges, public scrutiny, potentially criminal charges. This better be a decent omega for once.
“Just a number?” Sara shakes her head. “The Bureau’s algorithm isn’t wrong. This isn’t just compatible, this is—”
“Where have I heard that name?” I interrupt.
Sara’s expression shifts. She pulls out her own tablet and starts typing.
“You recognize it too.” I say. “Who is it?”
“Just checking something.” Her fingers fly across the screen. Then she stops. Goes very still.
“Sara.”
She rotates the tablet toward me slowly. “Nolan West. Filed a claim against Nilsson Industries four years ago regarding intellectual property theft.”
The memory slams into me. How could I forget the name?
The nuisance lawsuit. The omega who’d claimed we’d stolen his research. Our legal team had eviscerated him and rightly so.
“Oh fuck,” Anna breathes.
“The omega who tried to extort money from me.” I can hear how flat my voice sounds.
Sara and Anna exchange a look I can’t quite read.
“What?” I demand.
“Nothing,” Sara says. “It’s just—ninety-eight percent, Erik.”
“The Bureau matches biology, not ethics.” I push back from the table.
“If it matched us at all. This can’t be a coincidence.
He’ll have arranged this somehow. It’s clearly fake.
I am not putting up with this son of a bitch trying to get one over on me again.
This time we get rid of him for good. Sara, spend as much as you need to. I’ll authorize whatever you need.”
“Erik—” Anna starts.
“I need to review the case. See exactly what we’re dealing with.” I’m already pulling up my contacts, scrolling for the Bureau liaison’s number.
“Or,” Anna says carefully, “you could consider that maybe, just maybe, the universe is telling you something.”
“The universe is telling me that some piece of trash is trying to scam me. Again.” The Bureau liaison answers on the second ring. Her voice is professionally cheerful in a way that sets my teeth on edge.
“Mr. Nilsson, congratulations on your prime match. We’ve been hoping—”
“It’s fake. I don’t know how he did it, but you need to investigate immediately. I am not accepting the match.”
A pause. “It’s a prime match, Mr Nilsson. You are required to meet first without preconceptions. Typically–”
“This isn’t typical. West filed a frivolous lawsuit against my company. He’s clearly trying something again, and you are being his fools.”
Another pause, longer this time. “I see. Well, sir, I should inform you that Mr. West registered under special circumstances. He has a dependent—”
“I don’t care about his circumstances. This isn’t happening. You will be hearing from my legal team in due course. I strongly advise you do not push this omega on me. It will end up being very embarrassing for the Bureau.”
“Mr. Nilsson—”
“Sort this out. This level of incompetency is ridiculous even for you.” I disconnect and find both Anna and Sara staring at me.
My phone buzzes again. It’s an email from the Bureau with the subject line: WEST, NOLAN - PRIME MATCH. Instead of investigating, the fuckers have sent me his profile and sent me confirmation of our ‘appointment’.
Fine. Let’s see who we’re dealing with. I let the lawyers deal with the asshole last time. This time, I’ll take control of the problem myself.
I open the profile. Anna and Sara lean in on either side.
The photo loads first. It’s a candid shot, not a professional headshot.
The Bureau must have pulled it from his social media.
He’s laughing at something off-camera, green eyes bright.
He’s wearing a t-shirt with the name of a rock band on it.
He looks young, unguarded, nothing like the bitter opportunist I’ve imagined.
Of course, he does. That’s how conmen work.
They’re charming. It’s how they get past people’s defenses.
Still, something low in my gut tightens: attraction, immediate and unwelcome.
I scroll past the photo quickly. Focus on the data.
Age: 29
Occupation: Barista, Sacred Grounds Coffee
Education: Doctorate in Biochemistry, Stanford University
Registered: Emergency Registration (Medical Dependent)
Dependent: Ellie West, Age 19, Chronic Illness
“He’s taking care of a sick sister,” Anna says softly. “Erik, he’s not some gold-digger. He’s desperate.”
“If the sister is sick at all. This smells of scam to me.”
My phone buzzes with another message. This time it’s David Sun, the Bureau liaison I’d spoken to at the last match rejection hearing.
Mr. Nilsson, as per your phone call earlier, I have spoken to the lab.
The blood results were processed as per normal parameters.
There are no signs of tampering. Please note: failure to attend the introduction meeting will result in legal proceedings.
Given the 98.8% compatibility, the Bureau will pursue criminal charges for refusal to comply. - D. Sun
Criminal charges. Of course. At this level of compatibility, refusal isn’t just a civil matter anymore. Fury builds in my stomach.
The waiter comes over, puts my salad in front of me. I stare at it. I’m not in the least bit hungry. I pass the phone over to Sara so she can see the message. She reads it and grimaces.
“You’re going to have to go to the meeting,” she says, picking up her fork.
“And that’s my legal advice. But don’t worry.
It’s just the preliminary meeting. We get it out the way and in the meantime, we’ll file for an injunction against the match.
His history with your company is significant information.
I’m sure we can get a judge to at least put everything on hold until we’ve had time to investigate. ”
I sit back in my chair, mollified. “Sensible.”
“And we can draw up a prenuptial agreement if need be. Ironclad.”
“I’m not marrying him.”
“Just in case. We need to cover every eventuality. If worst comes to worst and the Bureau insists on the match, we can at least make sure your assets are protected. He’ll back down as soon as he realizes he’s getting nothing out of it.”
I frown. He won’t be getting nothing. I’ll make sure he gets more than nothing. I have no intention of letting this man try to defraud me for a second time. If I play this right, the only thing he’ll get is a prison sentence.