Chapter 4
Chapter Four
Lucas
I’m late for a meeting. Walking quickly through the downtown rush of people, I hurry to get to the main office for Reid Pharmaceuticals. There’s a new medication that has spent months in clinical trials, and we finally have results.
I wanted to video conference from my home in Bargersville, but the board didn’t like that. So now here I am, rushing through Indianapolis to get to this meeting. They’ll wait for me, but that’s not the point.
My driver couldn’t drop me off because there’s some kind of accident near the office building, so I’m on foot. That’s not to say that I’m lazy, I’m not. I work out every day, spar several times a week, but the inconvenience of running in fancy shoes isn’t a good time while it’s snowing.
“Sir, you’re going to slip and fall on your ass,” my guard grunts, his strides matching mine.
“Fuck, I know,” I mutter, slowing down slightly. “I hate being late.”
“I know, but coming in with a bruised ass isn’t going to be any better,” he says. I don’t want yes men around me. I want people who I can trust, who force me to pay attention to what’s important.
That’s why Grant Reaper works for me, and has for the last eight years. He gives things to me straight, and regardless of the fact that I easily kill people when it’s necessary, he works for me so I don’t have to while protecting me.
The world has a lot of views that it enjoys projecting on me that have nothing to do with who I am. The tabloids think I may be gay because I’m never seen with women, and while I may enjoy a buttplug when I’m bored to keep me awake during my meetings, I’m not currently sleeping with anyone.
Not since I helped an omega through her heat on threadbare sheets at a sex club. Fuck, I try not to think about that, mostly because it reminds me of how vacuous my life is.
It’s filled with work and no real family to speak of. I worked my ass off through medical school to be able to do research, built this company from the ground up, and have to fight to find time to get into a laboratory.
My entire life has been dedicated to enhancing people’s lives, but I haven’t done much for myself.
Blowing out a breath in annoyance, I continue my pace through the crowd to my office. Thankfully, people must feel the cloud of my growing bad mood, because they begin to part like a sea for Grant and I. I pretend to not see his smirk as we finally make it to the revolving door of the building.
I fucking hate revolving doors, and the bellman knows that. He quickly opens the side door for me instead.
“Welcome back, sir,” he says. “I’m sorry the street is closed.”
“It’s not your fault,” I say immediately. “I hate inconveniencing people by being late.”
“You’re the boss,” Marty says, shaking his head. “They can’t start without you. Though, we all appreciate how much you care about our time.”
“That’s what I told him,” Grant grumbles as I shrug, walking through the security screening process and then the lobby.
“Sir, you made it through,” Paula, one of my secretaries says, waiting for me once I’m past security.
She keeps me abreast of the office gossip. That may seem silly, but I’m not often at the main office without a reason.
This is how I nip any issues in the bud before it can become serious. I pay Paula well, and above all, she is incredibly loyal. Her father was one of my professors, I’ve sat at their dinner table, and it allows Paula to use the theatre minor she has.
It’s all about the silver lining, people.
“I did,” I say. “Hello, Paula. What am I looking at?”
“Everyone seems nervous,” she reports, her heels falling sharply on the marble floors as she walks beside me. “It seems more to do with the importance of these results than with your own tardiness. Which, you couldn’t help.”
My lips twitch at her words, and I wait beside her as she calls the elevator down with her badge.
No one can get up to my floors without the proper security clearance.
My badge is tucked into my pocket, and I pull it out and clip it to my suit jacket, ensuring that it can be seen as I part my coat over my clothes.
“Otherwise, it’s business as usual. Ready for the gossip?” she asks.
Listening to who is fucking who, cheating on their wife, or who may have lost too much money at a poker game helps to steady my mind as I nod along. Grant makes notes of names that he’s going to look into for me, because men who are broke can easily decide to begin skimming profits from a company.
It doesn’t matter how good your accounting team is, it’s possible that they think they’ll actually get away with it.
By the time we reach the twelfth floor, I’m calm, collected, and ready to hear the results of this drug’s trials.
It’s meant to break mate bonds when one of the mates is on his or her death bed.
We lose too many people to death because they essentially die of a broken heart when the bond rips apart.
I know that in the wrong hands it could be misused, but this is true of anything.
It’ll only be used for those in the medical field that deal with life and death.
Cancer, ER, burn units, et cetera. I am also willing to open this drug up to feral alphas in institutions who have lost their omegas for one reason or another.
I have a lot of things to think about because as ground breaking as this could be, it could also be destructive. It’s a perilous place to exist.
“Hello, everyone,” I say, stepping into the boardroom. I leave Paula outside of the room, because as much as I trust her, this information is highly sensitive.
There are murmurs of greetings as I sit in my chair at the head of the table.
“No one can ever prepare you for road closures,” I explain. “I had to walk to work today. Shall we get started?”
A few people’s eyes widen slightly before everyone gets ready to show me what they have for me.
I always ask for my data to be given to me by the researchers who are running the tests.
I understand that they are introverts, and that public speaking is never easy, but I want the information given to me to be correct.
Today, I have one researcher who will deliver the results to me.
“Yes, Mr. Reid,” Ursula Taylor murmurs, standing. “I apologize if my words are slightly choppy. The truth is you’re a little overwhelming in real life.”
“I’m just a normal person,” I reassure her. “I’ve spent hours in front of test samples before, feeling the frustration when things don’t go to plan. And then I’ve started over. Tell me how it is, please.”
And so she does. The tests are showing that it is possible to unravel the bonds of the person who may be dying so that the others in the pack won’t feel the heartache of their death.
It doesn’t touch anything else as bonds become part of someone’s genetic makeup, which is why alphas can go feral when apart from their omegas.
Mate bonds are complex, but this appears to work. It’s a shot that is simple, and will be kept under wraps the way a hospital would a controlled substance.
“I have concerns,” Ursula says tentatively as the researcher next to her winces. It looks like they’ve argued about this before.
“The floor is yours,” I say magnanimously. “I mean it. I have a feeling that I may know some semblance of what your concerns are, but I would never be so arrogant as to assume.”
Ursula has been working for my company in research and development for the past six months, but as the CEO, we’ve never met before. People make assumptions about others every day. It seems to be human nature.
“It’s just…Mr. Reid, this research in the wrong hands could be very dangerous,” she finally says.
“Every person working on this has a non disclosure agreement, and while I appear understanding, I don’t have any issues burying anyone who deigns to fuck with me or this research,” I growl. “Legally bury, that is. Though, I have a feeling that those who cross me would rather I actually kill them.”
“What Mr. Reid is trying to say,” one of my lawyers says with a slight wince, “is that all of the extra measures of security around everything that we do is because we understand how important it is that the medications we’re developing stay under wraps until it’s ready for the public.
Even then, some of our formulas have to remain tightly controlled. ”
“That’s all well and good, but I would almost prefer if Mr. Reid meant actually killing people,” Ursula huffs.
Ah, if she only knew the lengths I’m willing to go to for things. My lips curl up in a predatory manner and she gazes at me for a long moment before seeming to make up her mind about something.
“Caution is going to be really important for this,” she finally says. “In the wrong hands, auction houses could use this medication to break bonded omegas from their packs to sell them. The devastation caused by this could be huge.”
“And those are the things that run through my own mind as well,” I reassure her.
“The knowledge that I could help someone who is in a toxic relationship due to the bond or one where their mate is dying so that they’re not dragged into death as well is heady.
Not in a megalomaniac type of way, that’s not why I got into this business. ”
“I wouldn’t be here if you had,” she says honestly. “I want to know what types of security you plan for this.”
I explain to her how they’ll have to be signed out, and that the policy will be reminiscent of biohazardous materials.
The doctor who wants to administer it will have to contact the person above them, and then they’ll need to contact us.
It may seem like a lot of hoops to jump through, but I plan to have a dedicated person to take these calls.
“Can you make sure that person understands the ramifications of this medication?” Ursula asks. “There’s no magic wand to take it back. It’s permanent.”