The call came thirty-eight minutes after Elias finished dictating my cover story. I remember the number exactly thirty-eight because that was how long I'd allowed myself to feel safe. Foolish. Naïve. Thirty-eight minutes of silence before the storm hit.
It wasn't the formal notice Elias expected. It was sharper, colder a direct, authoritative demand for immediate access. Marcus's anonymous leak had struck too deep, exposing something they feared more than scandal: the biological anomaly risk.
I was in the shower, water still running down my neck, trying to apply the dermal inhibitor when Elias burst in. The sound of his boots on tile was enough to freeze my pulse. Every movement of his carried that contained violence the kind that made the air feel like it might shatter.
"Auditor inbound. ETA seven minutes." His voice was iron wrapped in smoke. "They're bypassing protocol. This is a direct challenge to the Single-Mate Decree."
My hands trembled as I reached for the towel. I tried to wrap myself in it, but even the softness couldn't hide the way my fingers shook. The scent inhibitor was drying on my skin, cold and metallic, seeping into my pores. It mixed with Elias's cedar-and-stone scent until the room felt too small, too thick with power and control.
"My file?" My voice came out low, a thin reed in the storm.
"Accepted but flagged." Elias moved with purpose, selecting an outfit from the wardrobe: a soft grey cashmere set, loose and unstructured. The kind that made me look fragile, almost pitiful. "They're sending Advisor Thorne. A cousin. Obsessive about procedure. You will call him 'Advisor.' You will appear exhausted, grateful. Understand?"
When he turned toward me, his hands landed on my shoulders, firm, anchoring too heavy to mistake for comfort. He tilted my head until I was forced to look down, just below the line of his throat. A physical reminder of hierarchy.
"Focus on the pressure of my hand, mate." His scent intensified, wrapping around me like armor I hadn't earned. "You are tired. Weak. Relieved that the Enigma took charge of your crumbling existence. Project that failure."
I focused on his grip. On the weight. On the safety that came with obeying. I let my breath thin, shoulders drop, eyes soften. It was humiliating to embody that weakness but the need to protect the bond, to stay under his shield, was stronger than pride.
"Understood, Chairman," I whispered. The word Chairman burned on my tongue submission made audible.
Minutes blurred. Five, maybe less. Then I was sitting on the minimalist sofa, clutching a cup of herbal tea I couldn't drink. Elias stood close, a wall of power and scent between me and the door.
When Advisor Thorne entered, the air changed again sharp and clinical. His vanilla scent cut through the space like disinfectant. An older Alpha, crisp in posture, reeking of authority. His eyes fixed on me at once.
"Chairman Thorne," he greeted Elias, tone clipped. "Unorthodox situation. I'm required to conduct a wellness and biological stability assessment on your… partner."
Partner. The word sounded obscene.
I did what Elias told me to do. I lifted my gaze just long enough to meet Thorne's eyes let him see exhaustion, the fragile edge of someone barely held together and then dropped my stare to his chest pocket. My left hand rested close to Elias's knee, trembling with manufactured dependency.
Elias's arm came to rest behind me, possessive, deliberate, his fingers brushing the back of my neck.
"He is my fated mate, Advisor," Elias said, his voice a low, thunderous calm. "His health is my highest priority. You will conduct your assessment here."
The word mate resonated in the air like a sacred decree.
Thorne's nostrils flared. I saw the calculation in his eyes the scent layers, the conflicting signatures. Elias's dominance was suffocating, but underneath it, I knew what Thorne would detect: the faint metallic trace of suppression, the fabricated scent of a failed Alpha.
He turned the scanner on me. The hum of it filled the silence. My pulse raced, but I forced myself to breathe shallowly, eyes on Elias's hand, drawing courage or the illusion of it from his control.
"Mr. Reyes," Thorne said finally, his tone clinical. "Can you confirm the nature of this mate bond? Are you under duress?"
I looked up. For one heartbeat, I let him see my eyes then I looked back at Elias. At the hand that bound and protected me.
"No, Advisor," I murmured, voice trembling just enough. "The Chairman recognized my instability long before the bond solidified. I'm relieved. He's given me the anchor my biology requires."
Every word was a knife I turned inward, a script of self-humiliation carved perfectly to fit the lie. I was not the powerful one. I was the patient, the saved, the broken thing that made Elias look merciful.
Thorne's lips thinned. He checked the scanner. The result was inevitable: stable pheromonal suppression, minimal reproductive markers, no anomaly detected.
He exhaled through his nose defeated. "My report will reflect stability. Good day, Chairman."
When the lift doors closed, the silence that followed was so heavy it almost hurt. My breath broke first. My head fell back against Elias's arm, the tremor in my body too deep to hide.
I'd survived. The lie had held.
Elias turned to me, fingers catching my chin, forcing me to look at him. His eyes were cold, gleaming with triumph and something darker.
"Well done, mate," he murmured. The praise felt like both reward and possession. "Your performance was flawless. Now," his thumb brushed the corner of my mouth, "we secure the reward."
And just like that, relief turned to something else something sharp and terrifyingly alive because I couldn't tell if he meant the victory… or me.