"…so our total profit would be…it'd be best not to invest in that…we're taking at least sixty percent, that…". Bastard gets very serious when it comes to business. It took me by surprise the first time I saw him settle down in a business setting. I thought he was bipolar for three days. His attitude takes a total 180' and he gets seriously intense. He gets so intense that if there weren't any scent blockers in the meeting room, his pheromones would've forced all of us to our knees. No, I do not want to be forced to submit because one small company thinks they can cheat Aronohai Miyamura off one percent of his profits.
The ruthless billionaire title wasn't given, it was earned.
Another useless thing learned about Bastard.
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He also likes a cup of coffee to be brought to his office after meetings, steaming hot, with four packets each of sugar and cream. He keeps a can of whipped cream in one of the drawers, at the bottom left side of his desk. He must keep a bunch of weird stuff in there. Like those hair bands he's using to tie his hair into a bun. That's kinda hot. Wait, it's bastard. Ew.
"Any reason for that look of disgust on your face Sorahiko?". He stirs his creamy looking concoction, then adds another extra spray of whipped cream. Guess who might die of diabetes by thirty?. I quickly wipe away any type of emotion on my face.
"Nothing is disgusting sir".
"I'm pretty sure you had that look on your face the first time you served me coffee, I thought we were past that?". A raised eyebrow, a slow slip. That shit has to taste like a sugary death. It's too much!.
"It's my thinking face sir". Lie where? I don't see a liar? Do you?.
"So you look at people like they're the scum of the earth when you're thinking Sorahiko?". I'm not avoiding his gaze. It's self preservation. A lot of you don't understand that.
"I'll correct my face sir". Just be easy and agreeable Sorahiko. Life isn't hard when you're agreeable.
"You would? I thought I'd have to correct it for you". I swear it's instinct when I take a step back, I don't plan it, it's clearly instinct. Is he threatening to hit me? Can it still be called a threat if he's clearly going to do it?.
Bastard sighs, "Calm down Sorahiko, I'm not going to hurt you". Yeah right.
"My apologies Sir". Why don't you try not threatening me for a day?.
The thought must show on my face because the coffee cup is set down on the table and Bastard focuses on me.
"This has to be the second time I've said this to you…". I apologize like twice a day to you Bastard. If anyone should be tired of repeating themselves, it'd be me. "…But I'm not going to get physical with you". His gaze turns intense. "Or is there a reason why you think I'd always be eager to lay my hands on you Sorahiko?".
Huh? What kind of question is that? He's an alpha isn't he?. In what world would a high-class alpha, or any kind of alpha really, need a reason to get physical with an omega. What an annoying question. The scent patch on my neck burns. My agitation is spiking my pheromones and eating into my scent patch. It takes me a moment to realize that I just fried my scent patch. My pheromones are spreading.
Now, Omegas are supposed to wear scent patches to dampen our scents in public. For no reason at all. It was the government's reply to all the cases of omegas being assaulted, whether physically or sexually by alphas. They literally went 'Your scents cause alphas to react and act out. So because we don't want to be raped or beaten within an inch of your life, you are all to wear a scent patch on one of the scent glands on your neck to dampen your pheromones and keep you safe'. Yet nothing changed, a fat load of good that did. Scent patches are expensive as shit. I use store-grade ones, and those tend to burn out fast. The trick is to regulate your emotions, because emotions affect your pheromones.
But I sat through a four hour meeting, I had to serve coffee and now I got asked this irritating question, of course I was going to fry the thing. But unbonded omegas are legally not allowed to make mistakes like this. Shit!. How do I explain this to Aronohai?.
"You fried your scent patch". It's not a question. My stomach drops. Shit.
"I'm so sorry Mr Aronohai…". I bow my head low, my fingers find the fabric of my pants and curl tight. "I can't apologize enough for making a mistake like this…". Fuck. What am I supposed to say again?. He's not going to accept my apology anyway. "I'm honestly so sorry Sir". He pulls open a drawer, I can't see him but I can hear him rummaging through it, he must have found what he was looking for because he shuts the drawer. He then gets up and walks towards me, my heart drops. Oh fuck. Please don't report me. I'd get sent to an omega rehabilitation center. It's a government sanctioned program for breaking the spirits of omegas and pumping out alpha worshippers instead of normal omegas. It's hell. Actual hell on earth. I'm completely fucked aren't I?. From the frying pan into the fire.
"I..I'm so sorry Sir". He stops in front of me, his hand grabs one on mine and unfurls it from the death grip it has on my pants. What? What does he want my hand for?. Yet I don't look up at him. Not until something slightly heavy drops in my palm. Huh?.
"Our meetings tend to take a long time…", his hand curls over mine, keeping my hand clenched over the object. "These are high-grade scent patches, they last longer and work better, or at least that's what I've been told, use them at work". His other hand tilts my chin up to look at him. Gently. "It's part of your benefits as an employee, we provide high-grade scent patches to all our omegan staff". He releases me, then takes a step back from me. "Go use one, and request for more at the med unit when you finish that pack".
Is that it? Is that really it?. There's no way Aronohai Miyamura would let this go. This is a legitimate reason to toy with me more. Isn't that the whole reason why I'm here?.
"You smell confused. Why?", he tilts his head at me. A lock of brown hair falls over his eyes. I forgot I was still releasing pheromones. Of course he can tell what I'm feeling, he can literally smell it.
"Y..you're not going to r..report me?", damn this stutter. Let me speak!.
"Would you like me to?". Huh?. He straightens up. "I said, would you like me to report you Sorahiko?". His eyes bore into mine.
A dominant alpha like Aronohai, reporting me for this. I'd never be able to leave the rehabilitation program. They'd keep me there for life. I'd never be Sorahiko again. The omegas that come out of the program all look the same, dead eyes and bright smiles. They almost always sign themselves over to the government to become state omegas. The government handles their mating, I mean they choose mates for them. Some of them get bid on and that revenue goes to the government. The get broken and brainwashed then turned into government property. And all it takes is one report. I'd rather die.
"No I..please don't", like I would literally do anything. I'd stop acting like an idiot, I'll watch my words, I'd be respectful, I'll stop subtly disrespecting Aronohai. Even if he lets me get away with it. "P..please don't r..report me Sir". I bow again, as low as I can go. I hate how my voice shakes.
"Then go use it". He turns back to his desk, I'm dismissed. Actually dismissed. He's not even using this to mess with me. Nothing. He's doing nothing at all. "If you're done gawking at me, you can leave".
'He's a mean-spirited bastard but he won't be cruel to you'. Yamato Eiji was right. Thank God.
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