3

"Great. Please, don’t fuck it up!"

"Always the pessimist."

"I just know how your mind works—overcomplicating simple things."

I was ready to reply with quite a snarky remark, but another message came in right after, and I cursed. This one was from Mr. Ren Ragu: "Did you manage to review the profiles of those clients whose contracts expire in the next two weeks? It's the most urgent matter."

I cursed under my breath, feeling a mixture of impatience and relief. At least it saved us from awkward conversations after sex.

"Damien," I said, showing him the phone screen to make it obvious I had a good excuse to get up. "My boss needs me to handle this. I have this task, matching a few difficult clients, I can’t say no, especially since he’s been kind enough to let me work remotely for the next few days."

"Of course," Damien said quickly, sitting up with a look of relief on his face too. Maybe he had the same dilemma I did? Conversations right after amazing sex could easily lead us into risky territory—questions about our future together.

I got out of bed and said, "I’ll take a quick shower and get to work. I might set up my laptop at the kitchen table since your desk is kinda small. Hope you don’t mind?"

He nodded quickly. "Yeah, sure. The waves usually last a few hours, so there's plenty of time."

He suddenly bit his lip, looking downright uncomfortable coordinating my work with his heat, but I gave him a reassuring smile.

"Don’t worry. I’ll be ready when you need me. I’m not planning to miss out on all the fun…" I grinned, realizing I sounded almost too casual, like we were closer than we actually were. Damien blushed and averted his gaze.

I headed to the bathroom. After a quick shower, I came back to the kitchen and found Damien on the phone with a pizzeria.

He glanced at me, pulled the receiver away from his ear, and asked, "What kind of pizza do you like? I’m ordering."

"But wait, you said you don’t have an appetite…"

He blushed again. "I’m ordering for you."

I raised an eyebrow, surprised by his initiative. "Okay, thanks. Just a basic thin-crust pizza is good."

I sat down at the kitchen table and opened my laptop, curious to see which Fate's Choice customers had contracts expiring the soonest.

"Do you think you’ll find good matches for them?"

"I don’t know, but I’ll give it a shot. My gut’s usually pretty spot-on. I’m really curious to see who these clients are, though. I mean, when I worked as a matchmaker before, contracts almost never expired without matches. Fate’s Choice is seriously in trouble."

Damien hesitated for a second before asking, "Can you show me their photos?"

I smiled a little nervously. Sharing client profiles could land me in hot water if anyone found out, but honestly, this felt like a great way to bond with Damien. Natural and just… a normal way to get to know each other.

And let’s face it, if my gut feeling were right, it’d be worth the risk. Even if I lost this job, I could gain something much more valuable.

"Okay, but you have to promise me you’ll keep this to yourself. These files are confidential, and the clients are trusting us to protect their personal info."

"Of course!" Damien looked genuinely excited as he pulled up a chair next to me. He still hadn’t showered, and the mix of our scents—raw, intimate, and utterly distracting—hung in the air. I swallowed hard. Focus, Storm .

The first client file popped up: Star Daniels.

"Wow," Damien muttered, his eyes wide. "This guy has trouble finding a match? Seriously? Look at him—he’s stunning!"

He wasn’t wrong. The omega in the picture looked flawless—young, with perfect features, full lips, and long hair dyed platinum blond. His eyes were such a dark navy blue they almost looked black.

"Yeah, omegas like him usually don’t struggle with matchmaking. Their contracts go for huge amounts. But there’s always a catch."

I clicked through the tabs, and my stomach sank when I found it. I sighed, pointing it out to Damien.

"Oh, there it is. Damn. He’s a former sex worker. Worked as an escort for a year, then spent another year stripping. He left the club last year to finish a degree in public health, and now he’s a phone consultant for Malden Pharmaceuticals. So yeah, basically working for your uncle." I chuckled, finding the connection mildly amusing. "Anyway, Star’s looking for a husband now, but—"

"But what? Someone’s gotta want him," Damien said, frowning. "People go through stuff—it doesn’t mean they’re not worth loving."

"True, but you know how alpha clients can be—total hypocrites. If they pay a fortune, they expect a ‘perfect’ partner. Preferably a virgin. And then there’s the data. Relationships like this don’t have the best stats. A lot of them end in early contract terminations."

"What stats?"

"Fate’s Choice collects this kind of info. Matches where one partner has a history of sex work tend to be shorter and more likely to fall apart. It’s just the way things go."

"Why?"

"I don't know. On the buyer side: trust issues and a lot of 'accepting the past' failures."

"That’s so messed up. I mean, some people get forced into sex work. What are they supposed to do?"

I sighed. "I know. But honestly, most agencies discourage people like Star from even trying to enter contract fairs because it’s just… tough. High chance of being disappointed, or mistreated. Of course, Fate's Choice being greedy, probably saw a chance to make some quick money from the brokerage fees—"

"And now they’re in trouble."

"Yeah, pretty much. Let’s look at the next file."

The second profile popped up on my screen, and Damien leaned closer, his excitement palpable. His cheeks were flushed, making him look ridiculously adorable.

"Darien Ferro," I read aloud.

"This guy’s forty-two, but damn, he’s still so good-looking," Damien murmured.

I nodded, studying the photo. The omega had striking green eyes, jet-black long hair, and a complexion that still looked fresh despite his age. His features were flawless—elegant, almost timeless. A weird chill ran down my spine as I stared at the picture. It was so intense I actually gasped. For a moment, a crazy thought flickered in my mind, like I somehow knew who his True Mate was. But I quickly shoved the thought aside. That’d be too much of a miracle.

"Yeah, but for some reason, his contract hasn’t been finalized either."

Damien tilted his head. "Did he also work in the sex industry?"

"Nope. Completely different story." I scanned through his profile. "When he was eighteen, he won some college pageant—Mister Freshman. A millionaire bought his contract for a record-breaking amount. But that guy passed away last year, and now Darien’s trying to sign a new contract. It’s odd, though. He inherited a huge fortune, so he doesn’t really need this. There’s gotta be more to the story. Cases like his are super rare."

Damien leaned closer, his brow furrowed as he studied the fields. "Maybe he doesn’t want to be alone. He spent so many years with an older guy—perhaps now he wants someone younger."

"Could be." My eyes skimmed over the rest of the profile, and something caught my attention. "Oh, here’s something—he’s infertile. But at his age, that’s probably not a dealbreaker for most buyers."

Something else caught my eye. "But check this out—he’s rejected nineteen match proposals. Fuck, nineteen! That’s probably the real issue. He’s just super picky."

"Not surprising," Damien said with a giggle. "He was Mister Freshman, after all!"

"Right? Yeah, I definitely need to have a serious talk with this one."

"Ferro…" Damien tapped his chin, thinking. "That name rings a bell. Isn’t it the name of the mafia family in the city? My uncle Blue told me some stories about them."

"Maybe it’s a coincidence?"

Damien pulled out his phone, searching quickly. After a moment, he turned the screen toward me, showing me an article: ‘Mafia Retired Boss Dies After Cancer.’

"Look, it says Alberto Ferro was a mafia capo for a few years after his father died. Then his brother Angelo took over. And get this—Alberto remarried when he was sixty. His husband’s name was… yep, Darien!"

"Wait, so Darien’s a widower of a former mafia boss? That’s wild."

"Yeah, but it was ages ago. Says here Alberto only led the family for three years. Guess it wasn’t his thing, so he let his brothers handle it. Now, his nephew is in charge—Anzo, a beta!"

"A beta is in charge of the mafia family?" I raised my eyebrows.

"Yeah, how rare. I heard from my uncle that Anzo is a strong supporter of the whole Beta Empowerment movement." Damien looked through the article. "And he killed his two older brothers. Allegedly! "

"Seems like a ruthless guy."

"Pretty much. Anyway, Darien’s husband, Alberto, stayed out of the spotlight for the last twenty years—knew some big-name politicians, did some charity, but that’s about it. He wasn’t active in the family business." Damien frowned thoughtfully. "Still, it’s weird Darien went through a matchmaking agency."

"Right? Why even bother? He could find a new husband easily if he wanted."

"I guess you’ll figure out his reasons soon."

"Yeah, I have to have a convo with him, that's for sure!" I said with a sigh.

"What about this next one?" Damien asked, pointing at another photo partially visible in the corner of the gallery.

I clicked on it and pulled up the details. "Day Sanderson… Whoa, he’s had eight previous contracts. That’s pretty rare!"

"If he’s had eight, they must’ve been short contracts. He’s only thirty-four," Damien said, biting his lip as he leaned in closer.

I scrolled through the profile, curiosity getting the better of me. "Oh, I see why. This omega was involved in surrogacy. Basically, his contracts were temporary—people hired him for a year or so, but his real job was to be a surrogate. He got paid to carry pregnancies."

"Wait, how does that even work? Aren’t the couples usually married when they buy a contract? I thought those ‘second husband’ contracts were banned years ago when they outlawed polygamy to boost genetic diversity."

"You’re right, but there’s a loophole. If one partner in the couple is infertile, they’re allowed to enter a second marriage contract."

"Ah, got it. So they used the loophole, and now this guy has eight ex-husbands. What’s he looking for now? Another one?" Damien narrowed his eyes, staring at the screen. "It says here there were complications with his last pregnancy."

"Yeah, it’s in the file—premature birth, very low birth weight… Oh, and he got caught smoking during the pregnancy. The last couple accused him of breaking the contract terms, and he had to pay a huge fine. Maybe he’s desperate to make that money back with a new contract."

"Do you think he wants another surrogacy deal?"

"No idea. He wouldn’t state that openly, though."

Damien rubbed his cheek thoughtfully. "He doesn’t look as good as the others," he muttered.

I couldn’t argue with that. Compared to the previous two, this omega was in rough shape. His grayish, unhealthy complexion and dark circles under his eyes made him look sickly, almost anemic. His face seemed drawn and tense, and his eyes unfocused on the camera, restless, like someone who’d been through a lot. Maybe he’d been handsome when he was younger—his features were regular enough—but now he just looked exhausted, even emaciated.

"I’ll have to talk to him too," I said. "If he’s hoping for another surrogacy contract, it’s going to be tough with his medical history. No one’s going to take that risk."

"He looks like someone struggling with depression," Damien said softly.

We sat in silence for a moment before Damien broke it. "Maybe he’s just lonely."

"Probably. Like a lot of people," I muttered under my breath, and Damien shot me a quick look, biting his lip as if to add something, but decided against it.

I scrolled to the next profile. "And here’s the last one. This one’s… a beta. And what an interesting name: Salt!"

"Whoa!" Damien leaned forward, his intense gaze locking on the screen.

"Yeah. Whoa," I agreed.

The beta’s face was striking, to say the least. One side of his head was shaved, and the other half was dyed electric blue. His eyes were mismatched—one jet black, the other gray, like a stormy sky. Tattoos of predatory insects—maybe spiders—crawled up his neck and onto his face, while piercings decorated his nose, eyebrow, and ears. Objectively, he had handsome, sharp features, but the edgy style wasn’t exactly mainstream. He reminded me of someone, but I had a hard time remembering who it might be.

"This is a first for me," I admitted. "I’ve only heard about cases like this before!"

"What do you mean?" Damien asked, glancing at me.

"Sometimes, the government lets criminals enter marriage contracts under special programs."

"Criminals? Shouldn’t they be in prison?" Damien blinked in surprise.

"Normally, yeah, but there are exceptions. If they’re part of a government initiative like Second Chance, they can serve their sentence at home with an ankle monitor. According to the file, this beta’s serving time for murder. Oh, wait… quadruple murder!"

My pulse quickened as I read the details. Damien was so close now I could smell his scent—sweet, warm, and totally distracting.

"He’s twenty-two, same as Star," Damien murmured, his eyes still fixed on the screen.

"Yeah. Says here Salt killed four alphas who supposedly murdered his brother. There wasn’t enough evidence against the alphas, but the case against him was solid. He barged in on them bragging about how they’d raped and killed his brother and just… shot them, one by one. The Second Chance agency got him into this program for ‘redeemable’ criminals."

"It’s hard to imagine. A quadruple murderer?" Damien muttered, shaking his head.

"Apparently, contracts like his are cheap and come with great terms. But there’s more—it says here Salt is part of another program, and that info’s… classified." I clicked the ‘See More’ link, but it was locked. "I’ll have to call Mr. Ragu for details. Finding someone willing to marry a quadruple murderer? That’s gonna be a nightmare."

Damien chuckled. "This is insane. This guy might actually be harder to match than the ex-escort omega!"

"Oh, definitely. Looks like Fate’s Choice took Salt’s contract because the government paid extra. They’re really losing it—taking huge risks for money!"

Damien turned to me; his expression serious. "Your job isn’t easy. Even I can see that, and I barely know anything about matchmaking."

I met his gaze, and for a moment, we just stared at each other. His eyes held an unexpected warmth that made my chest tighten.

"It’s tough," I admitted. "If I mess this up, Mr. Ragu won’t hire me as a matchmaker."

Damien’s eyes widened. "Then… you’d have to go back to working at Dark Dreams?" His voice was quiet, almost shaky.

His concern made my heart race. Did he actually care?

Choosing my words carefully, I said, "No, Damien, I won’t go back to Dark Dreams. I know a job like that lowers my chances of finding… someone for… a real relationship. I can’t expect anyone to… accept this type of work in his partner."

Damien quickly looked away, his cheeks flushing. "Yeah, for m—I mean, for many people, that’d probably be a dealbreaker."

He almost said for me . I was sure of it.

Our hands were so close, but I couldn’t bring myself to reach out. That would be too much—too intimate.

We weren’t a couple. And we couldn’t be, not until I secured this job.

My eyes landed on him, watching his cute profile with a slightly upturned nose as he stared at the screen. I really hoped I wasn't reading too much into it. He could just be relieved that I was helping him through his heat. Did he truly want to start something with me?

Damien's eyes shot to mine, caught me in the act of staring, and quickly dropped down again. Well, he also couldn't be sure if I really wanted more from him.

We were circling each other, testing the waters, neither of us fully grasping what the other wanted.

The doorbell interrupted my thoughts. The pizza had arrived.

Damien took the box from the delivery guy and set it down in front of me with an apologetic smile.

"Go ahead, eat the whole thing. I can’t fit any more in."

"Are you sure? Not even a bite?"

"Yeah, go on, eat it all."

I started eating, and he stood leaning against the kitchen cabinet, looking pensive. It was obvious there was a lot going on in his head, a slight frown forming in his brows. He was closely watching me stuff my mouth because, as a purple alpha, I had a very healthy appetite. I felt a bit uncomfortable being the only one eating, but I knew I wouldn’t convince him to join me.

Once I was done, I said, "Well, now I have to start going through the client database, those who have been registered so far in the list of potential contract buyers. This entry in the database is separate from the listing with the offers, of course, and much larger."

"Sure, I won’t bother you. I’ll go take a shower, and then I’ll study because I have an exam next week."

I nodded, and Damien left the kitchen, his face still quite pensive.

I glanced over the faces of my four ‘challenges’ once again and then started going through the list of clients, but somehow without much enthusiasm. It was hard for me to focus.

The air was filled with the pleasant scent of Damien’s heat, which certainly didn’t make it easier for me to concentrate on work. Finally, after an hour, I managed to select a dozen or so candidates who theoretically could meet the expectations of those clients, but I wasn’t convinced about it. I couldn’t focus well, my body slightly trembling.

I knew that in order to do something about it, I might have to go back to my place to calm down.

But I also remembered how anxious Damien was, so it was a dilemma.

With some hesitation, I replied to Mr. Ragu that I had started analyzing the database and would give him an answer soon, although I was pessimistic.

After another hour of frantic and haphazard notes, I heard footsteps, and Damien stood in the doorway. I knew immediately what he wanted; his cheeks were flushed.

Our eyes met—that was all I needed to know.

I immediately got up and walked over to him, bent down, grabbed his thighs, and lifted him into the air. And so, with him in my arms, I walked into the room to put him on the bed.

This time, however, I decided to do what I had always wanted to do—move us forward, start building more than just the physical part…

So, I leaned over him slowly, and kissed him for the first time on the lips—his soft, tender lips.

He made a charming sound of surprise, but immediately opened them and our tongues met; the kiss was very sweet and pleasant, but his temperature was rising quickly, as was my arousal.

We were still very much in the physical part, the other part was only shyly waking up, so I just went with it.

With one motion, I pulled up his long T-shirt, realizing he had nothing underneath, I slid my hand between his legs, feeling his hardness, and underneath I found his wet, throbbing hole, waiting for me to fill it. I could feel how wide open he was, so I didn't hesitate. I pressed my cock against his opening and plunged in…

We both moaned, and I started to fuck him: fast and intense, looking for the first orgasm. And sure enough, thirty seconds later, he came all over my stomach.

During the rut, the alpha could usually come very quickly too, although a little less often than the omega, but we could go on without feeling hypersensitive. And that's what happened this time after I came. I didn't collapse on the bed or on top of him, I grabbed his hips and turned him over so he was in the riding position.

Then, with one tug, I ripped his T-shirt completely off and threw it aside.

I could feel the surprise in him, so I asked, "Are you okay with this position?"

Damien looked a little panicked, but replied, "I'm not sure I can handle the fitness, I'm a little chubby…"

"What is certain is that you are cute and very sexy in your… chubbiness," I replied with a silly grin, running my hands over his cute, soft belly.

His cheeks, always red anyway, were now almost beet red.

"Stop it…"

"I won't, you're so delicious. So pretty!"

Damien giggled and put his hands to his face, looking both embarrassed and giddy.

"Don't worry about the fitness part, I'll help you, Damien, I'll do most of the work for you."

Then I held out my hands for him to lean on, and he began to move tentatively, it took him a while to get into a steady rhythm, but eventually, he found his pace. The heat held him tightly in its grip, adding to his endurance. He clenched his eyelids and threw his head back, his round hips rising and falling. He took in my entire length. It was a beautiful, juicy sight; his body was so soft, slightly rounded, but his nipples were hard and his small penis so proudly protruded.

Watching him, I realized that I found Damien incredibly beautiful —he was flawless in my eyes, even if he wasn't conventionally handsome to others, but I loved absolutely everything about him!

I immersed myself in the spectacle of watching him in ecstasy, his lips parted, and his glasses slightly fogged, but I dared not suggest that he take them off. Besides, he looked like a charming nerd!

Suddenly, he let go of my hands and raised his own behind his head, assuming an even more erotic pose. I took the moment to place my hands on his hips, lightly squeezing the soft skin that yielded to my touch, then wrapped my fingers around his dick… He reacted immediately, letting out a short moan, and a few drops of his cum spurted into the air.

Now that the heat was ripe, he was able to come even more easily and experienced a series of frequent orgasms.

I found myself more and more lost in watching him, observing every move he made, every lift of his hips with true fascination. I listened to the soft, sweet sounds he made as he rode my shaft. I felt something tighten in my throat because I wanted it to last, I wanted to see him like this every day… Would he still want to know me when his heat was over?

As if sensing my concern, he tilted his head and looked straight into my eyes.

Almost involuntarily, I whispered, "Damien, Damien…"

"I don't even know your name."

Fuck!

I gasped in shock because it was true! I was already making plans in my head how to get him interested in me, how to make him stay in my life, and I hadn't even told him my name… A major fuckup!

"Storm Aiden Nolan."

He smiled subtly, and as he lowered his hands, in a strange impulse, I grabbed both of them and squeezed them lightly; those moments when we were having sex were the only times I felt I could allow myself some intimacy.

"Perfect name for a purple alpha…" he breathed out as he continued to rise and fall over me.

"Where there's a storm, there's always… electricity," I muttered, hoping for it to sound meaningfully.

He smiled broadly, and then I saw a small wave of electrical discharges flicker across his chest, neck and face, a truly fascinating spectacle. Damien rode me for a while, with a subtle smirk, before he closed his eyelids and… came again; I quickly followed.

Only then did he slowly sink down onto my chest, his lips close to my neck for a moment, just above my gland, and I heard him whisper, "You're on the strongest pheromone suppressant, aren't you?"

"Yes, I have to be. Dark Dreams policy."

He didn't say anything, just kept his lips on my neck.

Then there was this loaded silence again. When I looked at him one more time, I noticed that his eyes were closed.

"Damien, I have to leave for about two hours, but I promise I'll be back. Will you believe me this time? Will you trust me?"

He nodded slowly. I could tell he was calmer now, and that made me happy. We were building something, after all. Small steps.

***