Vengeance in His Bed

The heavy double doors of the estate swung open with a sharp, echoing thud. Joanne stepped through the threshold first, her crimson dress catching the dim light of the room, followed closely by the calm, measured footsteps of Damian Boren.

Inside, the atmosphere was thick enough to choke a man. Dorrent was pacing the floor like a caged predator, his silver eyes flashing with a restless, chaotic fire every time he glanced at the ticking clock on the wall. Near the edge of the room, Shadron sat rigid on the leather sofa, his eyes technically fixed on a muted television screen, though his entire body was wound tight like a spring, tracking every sound in the estate.

The second Dorrent’s eyes snapped toward the doorway and landed on Damian’s sharp features, his control completely snapped. In a fraction of a second, Dorrent blurred across the room with explosive, S-tier Alpha speed.

BANG!

Before Damian could even lift a hand to defend himself, Dorrent lunged at him with feral force, slamming the young doctor violently against the wall. The plaster groaned under the impact as Dorrent pinned him by the throat, his face twisting into a mask of fury.

"What the hell is a Boren Mafia prince doing inside this house?!" Dorrent roared, his voice vibrating the glass panels in the room as his grip tightened on Damian’s collar. "Your psychotic father just orchestrated an assassination plot! He explicitly intended to kill Jannah, your supposed girlfriend, and now you have the absolute audacity to walk through our front gates?!"

Without waiting for a response, Dorrent began aggressively frisking the fellow Alpha, his large hands roughly tearing at the pockets of Damian’s coat, searching for hidden weapons or smuggled assets. "Where is it?! Do you have the antidote on your person, or did you come here to finish the job your father started?!"

Damian didn’t panic. True to his training, his face remained perfectly neutral, completely devoid of any suspicious behavior or any subtle hint of the dark biological secrets he and Joanne had just discussed in the car. He kept his hands raised slightly, his golden eyes remaining cool and steady despite the crushing weight against his chest.

"Dorrent, stop! Let go of the doctor this instant!" Joanne commanded sharply, her voice ringed with authority as she stepped between them. She held up the high-tech metallic case she had been clutching, the seal glowing faintly. "I have the injection right here in my hands. I secured the antidote from Bellero, but only Damian can administer it to Jannah. If you damage him, you kill the girl."

Dorrent’s grip on Damian loosened. His towering frame spun around, his bloodshot silver eyes locking onto the metallic case before snapping toward Joanne with an intense gravity. He took two massive strides forward, his winter-frost pheromones flaring dangerously.

"What do you mean only he can do it?!" Dorrent demanded, his voice dropping into a menacing rasp. "The asset is right there in your hand. All that needs to be done is to wheel her into the intensive pod and inject her with the fluid! Why the hell do we need a Boren operative touching her?!"

"Because it is a complex synthetic agent, Dorrent!" Joanne explained rapidly, her expression completely flawless, showing absolutely zero signs of the hidden alliance she had formed at the Boren estate. "Bellero explicitly designed this poison to rot the neural pathways. The injection cannot be administered all at once—doing that will instantly overload her heart and worsen her condition until her system permanently shuts down. It needs to be done in strict weighs. A very specific, calculated volume of fluid must be measured and micro-dosed into her veins everyday, and Damian is the only medical professional who holds the precise volumetric data. He told no one else about the scale."

Dorrent’s jaw clenched so hard a muscle violently twitched near his ear. He didn’t buy that idea for a single second. His primal, possessive instincts completely revolted at the thought of another Alpha holding the literal keys to Jannah’s survival.

With a low, animalistic growl, Dorrent stepped past Shadron, his hand landing on Damian’s throat again. He pinned Damian even harder against the wall, his chest plates heaving as he glared into the doctor’s eyes.

"You are lying to my face," Dorrent hissed, his voice full of an fire. "You manufactured this volumetric excuse with your father just so you can stay close to Jannah under my roof! You want a pass into my private sectors, and I will never, ever let that happen inside this mansion!"

Shadron, standing just inches away, noticed the terrifying shift in Dorrent’s eyes. He saw the possessiveness leaking through his friend’s cold CEO mask. If Dorrent continued this violent interrogation, his extreme overprotectiveness would completely give himself away to Joanne, exposing the fact that he was sexually and biologically dependent on the slum herbalist.

Recognizing the catastrophic danger, Shadron immediately leaped into action. He grabbed Dorrent’s shoulders, using his full physical leverage to forcefully tear his best friend away from the young doctor, stepping between them to create a protective barrier.

"Dorrent, calm the hell down! Stand back!" Shadron shouted, forcing a heavy, rational tone into the air to cover the tycoon’s slip.

Damian adjusted his wrinkled collar, a small smirk touching his lips as he straightened his posture against the wall. He adjusted his glasses, his eyes looking directly past Shadron to lock onto Dorrent’s furious visage.

"I find your extreme reaction incredibly fascinating, CEO Grefo," Damian said smoothly, his tone entirely calm and professional. "Isn’t it completely normal for a devoted boyfriend to want to be close to his own injured girlfriend during a medical crisis? I truly wonder why my presence near her seems to anger your mind so intensely."

Before Dorrent could let out the venomous, possessive roar building in his throat, Shadron cut into the layout with a loud, calculated intervention.

"He is only concerned for her safety Damian!" Shadron lied smoothly, throwing his hands up to control the narrative while Joanne watched with wide, analytical eyes. "Don’t misinterpret his aggression. Since it was your own psychotic Mafia father who shot her, it is only normal for Dorrent to worry about her security and the integrity of the treatment! The girl literally took a shot meant for his own skull, so his pride cannot handle any more Boren interference!"

Dorrent forced his breathing to slow down, his silver eyes swamping withmalice as he accepted his friend’s cover story. He took a slow step forward, his voice dropping into a flat, freezing whisper that vibrated against the floorboards.

"Let’s say I accept this volumetric weight story for the night," Dorrent rumbled, his glare fixed on Damian’s face like a death sentence. "What exactly are you planning here, Doctor? Since you are the only person who knows the volume amount of the injection to be given everyday... I hope you aren’t planning on occupying a guest suite and staying at this house."

Damian tilted his head, his expression turning into a line of challenging defiance as he met the billionaire’s gaze without a single drop of fear.

"And if I don’t stay here, what is your alternative plan, Dorrent?" Damian asked, his voice echoing with an intense, sudden gravity through the quiet lounge. "Does your pride prefer that I pack up the medical equipment, take the antidote case, and immediately carry Jannah with me to my private apartment?..."