The office door slammed open.
Eren flinched at the sound, rising to his feet as a man stormed inside, fury radiating off him. The employees froze, papers halfway to their desks, eyes darting between the intruder and the president's absent office.
When Eren recognized the man, his blood ran cold. His father.
The older man's steps faltered when his gaze landed on Eren. His frown deepened, eyes narrowing in disgust. "You," he spat. "Of all places, I find you here. Still disobedient. Still shameless."
Eren's throat tightened. His first instinct was to step back, to hide, but it was too late—his father had already crossed the room. The man's hand clamped around his arm, rough and unyielding, making Eren wince.
"You married him?" his father hissed. "All for this? A desk in his company?" His grip tightened, making Eren's breath hitch. "You've dragged our name through the mud. You know we despise that man, yet you bound yourself to him anyway."
"Let me go—you're hurting me," Eren managed, pulling against the grip, but his father only squeezed harder.
"You think this is pain?" His voice cracked like a whip. "You've brought us nothing but shame. And now I see it—you're the reason Adriel dares to challenge me. Buying that island? His arrogance reeks of you."
"I have nothing to do with his decisions," Eren snapped, panic sharpening his voice. His heart pounded, his scent sharp with fear he couldn't mask. "If he wants the island, that's his business. Not mine."
His father sneered, jerking him closer. "Lies. You think I'll believe you? You'll come with me. I'll show Adriel Ulrick what happens when he crosses me."
He dragged Eren toward the door. The employees sat frozen, wide-eyed, none daring to intervene. Eren struggled, but the older man's grip was iron. His pulse roared in his ears. His father would humiliate him—drag him out like a criminal, use him as a weapon against Adriel.
The air shifted.
The doors opened again, and Adriel strode inside. The atmosphere snapped taut, silence falling over the office.
Adriel's gaze locked instantly on Eren—on the bruising grip around his arm, on the strain in his movements. His expression darkened, fury drawn tight behind control.
He crossed the room without hesitation, each step steady, deliberate, predatory. The crowd shrank back instinctively.
"What," Adriel said, his voice low, sharp enough to cut, "do you think you're doing?"
The room held its breath.
"And what ill wind brought you here?" Adriel's voice cut across the office, low and sharp. His gaze locked onto the man's hand bruising Eren's arm. "Release him. Now. Can't you see you're hurting him?"
"You still ask why I'm here?" Mr. Leander spat, his fury spilling into the room. "You send lackeys to my island, trying to force my hand, and then feign innocence? You think I don't see your schemes? You cozy up to him"—his glare stabbed at Eren—"all so you can claw your way to what isn't yours. Greedy. Selfish. Always grasping for more."
Eren's chest constricted at the venom in his father's words. His pulse skittered, his scent sharp with anxiety. He tugged at his arm, but the older man's grip only dug deeper, iron around bone.
"Eren has nothing to do with my decisions," Adriel said, each word steady, clipped with control. "I wanted that island long before I met him. With or without him, I will claim it."
Eren froze, eyes flicking toward Adriel. A strange ache bloomed in his chest—sharp, bewildering—at the fierceness of the Alpha's defense.
"Enough," Adriel continued, his tone carrying weight that made the air seem heavier. "There are eyes on us. My employees will not be dragged into your tantrum."
Mr. Leander's grip tightened, drawing a wince from Eren. "You think I care about your audience? You think you can buy the world and everyone in it? You'll never have what's mine." His voice rose, echoing across the stunned office. "And if you think you can use my son to twist my hand, you are a greater fool than I thought."
Adriel's eyes narrowed, fury sparking in the quiet restraint of his expression. His next words came through clenched teeth, vibrating with Alpha dominance. "Let. Him. Go. This is between you and me. Leave Eren out of it."
The pressure in the room shifted; even the employees felt the Alpha's will pressing against them, pulling their scents taut with unease.
Mr. Leander sneered, but after a tense heartbeat, he shoved Eren's arm away. "Fine. Let's talk. But don't think for a second I'll ever sell you that island."
"Roen," Adriel called, not looking away from the older man, "escort Mr. Leander to my office."
The assistant stepped forward at once, guiding the furious patriarch away. The door shut behind them, leaving the office trembling in silence.
Adriel turned then, striding to Eren. His gaze softened as it fell on the angry red marks circling Eren's arm. He reached out, fingers brushing gently against the tender skin.
Eren's breath caught. The warmth of Adriel's touch soothed something primal inside him, steadying his spiraling scent. But when he glanced up, he found the eyes of his coworkers fixed on them—watching, whispering.
Panic snapped through him. He pulled his hand back abruptly, as if burned.
Adriel blinked, surprise flickering across his face. "Eren… are you all right?" His voice had dropped, quieter, meant only for him.
"I—I'm fine. It's nothing," Eren stammered, cheeks burning. "I'm sorry… I don't know why he—"
But his words faltered. He could still feel the ghost of Adriel's hand on his skin, the weight of all those watching eyes, and the ache in his chest that had no name.
"Don't worry. He isn't here because of you." Adriel's voice was steady, low enough for Eren alone. He reached up and brushed his thumb across Eren's cheek, lingering there, his touch firm yet careful. "He's here because of me. His fury is mine to bear, not yours."
Eren froze, his pulse hammering, chest tight beneath the Alpha's gaze. His skin tingled beneath that touch, and his scent faltered—sweetness tangled with sharp anxiety—broadcasting emotions he could no longer keep hidden.
"You don't need to apologize for him," Adriel murmured, his eyes locked to Eren's, unreadable yet warm. The chaos of the office seemed to blur at the edges, muffled as if the world itself had receded.
For a moment, it was only the two of them—Alpha and Omega, tethered in a fragile stillness.
Adriel's hand slid to the back of Eren's head, fingers threading into his hair. The Omega's breath hitched, instincts warring between the urge to lean closer and the fear of being watched.
"I'll handle him," Adriel whispered, his voice thick with restrained emotion. "Wait here for me."
Reluctantly, he withdrew, though his eyes clung to Eren's face as if promising he would return. Then he turned, his frame radiating dominance, and strode into his office where Mr. Leander sat seething.
The door shut with a decisive click.
Inside, Adriel crossed the room, his presence filling it like a storm contained. "Let's get straight to it," he said coldly. "You can rage at me all you like, but you will not lay a hand on Eren again."
Leander's jaw tightened, his glare venomous. "You think you can shield him from me? That boy is my son. You wormed your way into his life to get to me—don't pretend otherwise. You want my island, and you'll use my blood to get it."
Adriel leaned forward, palms flat on his desk, dominance rolling off him in sharp waves that pressed against the other Alpha like a blade. "You're wrong. I would have claimed that island whether I met Eren or not. He is not your bargaining chip. He is mine to protect."
Outside, Eren's breath hitched. His instincts twisted painfully at the force of Adriel's words—mine to protect—the claim echoing in his chest even as shame and confusion tangled in his thoughts. His scent spiked with nerves, sweet and trembling, betraying him to anyone who drew near.
Through the door, muffled but unmistakable, his father's voice rose. "You think I'll let my son stay by your side? Over my dead body. That island is my legacy, and I'll burn it to ash before I let you take it."
Eren's hands curled into fists as he paced the hallway, coworkers casting sidelong glances, whispering behind their palms. Every word he overheard stung—Who is Eren to the President? Did you see how he touched him? Wasn't that his father just now?
Heat crawled up his neck. His heart pounded, torn between the urge to bolt and the deeper, undeniable pull to stay, to be close to the Alpha who had just stood between him and his father like a shield.