8. Max
Max
“You’re sending us a girl.”
Griffin Hayes sits across from me in my office, completely unruffled by the skepticism in my voice. The alpha of Pack Hayes, CEO of Sentinel Security, and apparently, the person who thinks the solution to our sabotage problem is an omega.
“I wouldn’t call her a girl,” Griffin says, his tone mild but pointed. “But yes, she’s female.”
I lean back in my chair, studying him. Through the floor-to-ceiling windows behind me, the Synthera grounds stretch out in the early morning light. It’s Sunday, the one day of the week I keep to myself. Instead, I’m having this conversation.
“Let me get this straight.” I keep my voice even, trying not to let my frustration show. “You think the best person for this job, finding out who broke into a multibillion-dollar biotech company, is an omega. A female omega.”
Griffin nods. “I do.”
Finn shifts in the armchair to my left, curiosity written all over his face. Ethan stands by the window, arms crossed, his expression thoughtful.
“See, we don’t doubt she’s good at her job,” Ethan says carefully. “We’re just failing to understand why her, specifically. Surely you have other agents, alphas, betas, who could handle an investigation like this.”
“I have plenty of agents.” Griffin’s voice is calm.
“None of them are Sophie. She’s completed more successful operations than anyone else on my team.
She’s been with Sentinel for over a decade, so she’s not just trained; she’s battle-tested.
She reads people better than anyone I know, earns their trust, and gets information out of them before they realize they’ve given it up.
” He pauses, choosing the next words carefully.
“And she is, without question, the most lethal person on my team.”
“What makes her so... lethal?” Finn asks, leaning forward. “That’s an interesting word choice for an omega.”
I glance at him, then at Ethan. The same curiosity I’m feeling is reflected in both their faces. Because Finn is right, lethal isn’t a word typically associated with omegas. Omegas are supposed to be gentle. Nurturing. Soft.
Griffin meets my eyes directly. “What makes Sophie dangerous is that no one sees her coming. She looks like exactly what people expect an omega to be, small and easy to underestimate. People trust her. And by the time they lower their guard, it’s too late.”
An omega who weaponizes her own designation. I’m not sure I believe it. In my experience, omegas aren’t built for that kind of work.
“Fine,” I say finally. “We’ll take her.”
Griffin nods. “As you requested, she’ll start tomorrow.”
“Perfect.” Finn’s voice carries a note of relief. “The faster we find this mole, the better. Every day that passes is another day they could try again.”
Griffin doesn’t move to leave. Instead, he settles more firmly into his chair, his gaze sharpening.
“Before I let one of my own into an assignment,” he says slowly, “it’s important that I have all the facts.”
I knew this was coming. Sentinel doesn’t operate blindly. They’re professionals, which means they ask questions. And Griffin isn’t the type to send his people into situations he doesn’t fully understand.
“What do you want to know?” I ask, though I already know the answer.
“Why would someone break into Synthera just to disable a cooling system? That’s not theft. That’s sabotage. Targeted sabotage.” His eyes move between the three of us. “What are you working on that someone wants destroyed?”
I exchange a glance with Ethan and Finn.
“The climate-controlled storage room holds our most sensitive suppressant compounds,” I say carefully. “Temperature-sensitive formulations that take months to produce. Destroying them would set us back significantly.” I hold his gaze. “Someone clearly knew that.”
Griffin holds my eyes a beat too long, and I have the uncomfortable feeling he knows I’m not telling him everything. But he doesn’t push.
“Understood,” he says finally, and lets it go. “Where will she be staying?”
“Here on the estate. There’s a separate wing for staff members who live on-site, private apartments, fully equipped. She’ll have her own space.”
Griffin’s brows draw together for a fraction of a second.
“Don’t worry,” I add. “Each apartment has complete privacy and security. She’ll be comfortable.”
“I’m not worried about her comfort.” Griffin’s voice has gone flat. “She’ll be on suppressants, but she’s still an omega. I want to make sure that’s not going to be a problem.”
“We have a lot of omega employees,” Finn says. “That’s never been a problem.”
Griffin rises from his chair, buttoning his jacket with precise movements. He’s nearly to the door when he stops and turns.
“One last thing.”
“Yes?”
He fixes each of us with a stare that could strip paint.
“Don’t try anything with her.”
I blink. “Excuse me?”
“I’m saying this clearly so there’s no misunderstanding.” His voice is low and dangerous. “Don’t ever try anything with Sophie. She’ll kill you herself if you cross that line.” He pauses. “And if she doesn’t, I will.”
For a moment, I’m genuinely speechless.
He thinks—he seriously thinks we would make advances on an employee. On someone we’re hiring to do a job. As if we’re so desperate for women that we can’t maintain basic professional boundaries.
Finn bursts out laughing, the sound filling the office. Even Ethan looks shocked, his eyebrows climbing toward his hairline.
“Griffin.” I keep my voice steady, though I can feel irritation prickling beneath my skin. “You have absolutely nothing to worry about. We have never crossed that line with anyone who works for us, and we have no intention of starting now.”
“You do have a reputation,” Griffin says mildly.
“This is business.” I stand, meeting his eyes directly. “We’re talking about the thing we’ve worked on since we were barely out of university. Our life’s work. Everything we’ve built toward for over a decade. We would never do anything to jeopardize that.”
Griffin studies me for a long moment. Whatever he sees must satisfy him, because some of the tension leaves his shoulders.
“If anything,” Finn says, still grinning, “the danger is more likely to be her coming onto us.”
Griffin’s laugh is sudden and genuine, and it transforms his face for just a moment.
“That will never happen,” he says, with absolute certainty. “So don’t worry about that.”
“Noted,” I say dryly.
Griffin nods once more, then disappears through the door.
I sink back into my chair and stare at the report Ethan prepared earlier this morning.
The Equinox samples are fine. The temperature spike lasted thirteen minutes and forty-seven seconds, right at the edge of what the compound can survive.
Another minute, maybe two, and we would have lost everything.
Years of research and countless prototypes, the foundation of everything we’ve been working toward.
But we didn’t. The samples are intact. The research is on track.
I think about the woman Griffin is sending us. Sophie. An omega who lies, who lures people in before she takes them down.
I already don’t trust her.
Finn appears at my shoulder, peering at the report. “You think she’ll find the mole?”
“Griffin seems confident,” I say, not looking up from the report.
“Griffin seems like the kind of man who doesn’t say things he doesn’t mean,” Finn says.
I can’t argue with that.
Ethan joins us, his expression thoughtful. “An omega operative. I have to admit, I’m curious to meet her.”
“Curiosity killed the cat,” I murmur.
“And satisfaction brought it back.” Finn grins, that easy charm of his surfacing despite the tension of the past few days. “Come on, Max. Admit it. You’re a little intrigued.”
I don’t answer. But as I look back down at the report, I find myself wondering about the woman who’s going to walk through our doors tomorrow morning.
Sophie.
An omega Griffin calls lethal.
An anomaly, if it’s true. And one thing I know for sure, no one is born like that.