Charles' expression doesn't change but I've worked for him long enough to read the subtle signs. The way his jaw tightens almost imperceptibly. The slight narrowing of his eyes. The way his fingers stop drumming on the armrest and go completely still.
"There will be no renegotiations," Charles says flatly, his voice devoid of emotion. "The terms I offered last time were more than generous. You declined. That offer is no longer on the table."
Viktor laughs again, the sound carrying a darker edge this time. It's the laugh of a man who holds all the cards and knows it, who's about to reveal a winning hand. "You see, I had expected that. Unfortunately for you, it's also why I made sure to have everything in place so that I could force your hand."
My stomach drops. This is bad. Really bad. I've seen enough negotiations to know when someone is about to make a power play, and Viktor has that look in his eyes. The look of a predator who's already won, who's just playing with his prey before delivering the killing blow.
"While I don't condone hurting your son," Viktor continues, his voice taking on a casual tone that doesn't match the threat in his words, "I have nothing against forcing him to bond with one of mine to ensure your cooperation with our business."
The world narrows to a single point.Ashton. My hands clench into fists at my sides, every muscle in my body going rigid with the effort of not launching myself across the room at Viktor's throat. I want to rip that smug smile off his face and make him understand what happens when he threatens the one person in this godforsaken house who's actually innocent.
The one person in this house that I actually care about.
Charles pushes to his feet, his chair scraping against the floor with a harsh sound that cuts through the tension. For the first time since the meeting started, an emotion crosses his face—pure, unfiltered anger. His face flushes red, a vein pulsing in his temple. "No deal."
"I wasn't really asking," Viktor says mildly, completely unbothered by Charles' reaction. He stays relaxed, like he's discussing the weather rather than threatening to force an Omega into a bond. "You play your son as a pawn, but he's really the chess piece, isn't he? The king of this whole operation. If someone holds him, they hold the key, don't they?"
I frown as realization crashes over me. Somehow, impossibly, Viktor knows about the accounts. About how Charles has structured everything to protect himself while leaving Ashton completely vulnerable. All of Charles' assets, all of his holdings, everything is tied to Ashton's name to keep it away from law enforcement and rival criminals.
But that protection only works if no one knows. And Viktor knows.
Viktor keeps talking, leaning back in his chair with a smug smile that makes me want to rip his face off. "You see, I've done my research. I tried to figure out why you were easy to research and yet there's not one fucking account linked to your name. Nothing the police or any kind of authority could really get you on. Nothing concrete, nothing they could seize or freeze. Because it's not tied to you, is it?"
Charles' face goes pale, the flush of anger draining away to leave him looking almost gray. For the first time in all the years I've worked for him, I see genuine fear flicker across his expression.
"It's tied to motherfucking Ashton Driscoll," Viktor continues, clearly enjoying himself. His smile widens with each word, relishing the power he holds. "The pretty little shy Omega. Your chess piece. Your dirty little secret. Own the Omega and you own the Driscoll empire. You've been dangling your treasure in everyone's arena, but it's time to stop the games."
Viktor gestures to his sons, both of them sitting up straighter with matching predatory smiles. They look at each other, some silent communication passing between them. "Now, choose one of my sons to mate the Omega, or I'll choose. Maybe I'll even throw my hat in the ring. I've always had a fondness for pretty Omegas who need to be broken in."
The threat is clear. Viktor will force Ashton into a bond, use him to access all of Charles' accounts and holdings. Once bonded, Ashton would have no choice but to obey his Alpha. The bond would compel him to comply, overriding his free will completely. Viktor could drain every account, seize every asset, and destroy everything Charles has built. And there would be nothing Charles could do about it because he set it up this way to protect himself.
He never thought about protecting Ashton. Just himself.
I realize what's about to happen a split second before it does. Charles reaches for his gun a second time, his hand moving with the same casual efficiency as before. But this time there's desperation beneath the movement, the actions of a man who sees his entire empire about to crumble and is willing to do anything to prevent it.
I dart toward the door, knowing I need to get to Ashton before Viktor's men do. This is going to get ugly fast, and Ashton needs to be as far away from this office as possible.
Behind me, the first shot rings out, followed immediately by a second. I hear a body hit the floor and then another, twisting around to see both sons crumpled on the expensive carpet. They weren’t even fast enough to draw their weapons, too inexperienced against a man who’s just seen everything he has to lose.
Fuck.
I wrench open the office door, another two shots ringing out in the open space. Pain explodes in my left thigh, my leg threatening to buckle beneath me but I keep moving, adrenaline overriding the pain signals my body is screaming at me.
I burst through the office door and into the hallway, one of Viktor's Alphas manhandling Ashton, dragging him toward the back exit. Ashton is fighting, his feet scrambling for purchase on the polished floor as he tries to break free. But he's smaller and weaker than the Alpha holding him and not even the scratches and teeth lodged into the Alpha’s harm is slowing the guy down.
"Get your fucking hands off him!" I roar, launching myself at the Alpha.
We collide hard, both of us going down in a tangle of limbs. My injured leg screams in protest but I ignore it, focusing all my rage and desperation keeping this man off of Ashton, off ofmyOmega. The Alpha is bigger than me, outweighing me by at least fifty pounds of solid muscle. But I fight like hell, fueled by desperation and rage and the absolute certainty that I cannot let this bastard take Ashton.
My fist connects with his jaw, snapping his head back with a satisfying crack. He returns the favor, his fist slamming into my ribs with enough force to crack bone. I feel something give way, sharp pain lancing through my side. But I don't stop. I can't stop when the alternative is losing the Omega I refuse to confess to.
I hit him again, then again, my knuckles splitting open on his teeth. He gets a hand around my throat and squeezes, cutting off my air. Black spots dance at the edges of my vision but I keep fighting, bringing my knee up into his gut hard enough to make him grunt and loosen his grip.
Something in my hand gives way, pain shooting up my arm. Sprained or broken, I can't tell and don't care. I just keep fighting, hitting and kicking and doing whatever it takes to get this bastard away from Ashton.
Finally, the Alpha goes down hard, his head cracking against the floor with a sickening thud. He doesn't get back up, his body going limp. I scramble to my feet, my injured leg nearly giving out beneath me. I twist around to look at the blood-soaked denim, grimacing as that only makes the pain more present.
"Stefan," Ashton gasps, his voice full of terror.
