(ALESSIO'S POV)
The rain tapped against the wide windows of my office like impatient fingers. The city below was veiled in a silver mist, the kind that felt suffocating even from this high up. I sat behind my mahogany desk, still wearing the same shirt from this morning, splattered faintly with blood. I hadn't bothered to change.
Enzo and Theo had long since fallen into a heated debate on my leather couch, but their words faded in and out like static in my mind. My fingers tapped against the glass of my scotch. I hadn't taken a sip. I didn't need liquor to feel numb.
"You're seriously suggesting he buys someone? Are you out of your damn mind, Theo?" Enzo's voice finally broke through.
"It's not buying. It's a contract," Theo said, calm as ever, legs crossed, glass of whiskey in hand. "There's an entire underground market where vetted omegas volunteer to be auctioned. No coercion. Clean records. Healthy, obedient. Exactly what Alessio needs."
"He's not a fucking prince choosing a concubine," Enzo hissed.
"Actually, that's exactly what he is," Theo replied smoothly, shooting me a pointed glance. "He needs an heir. He needs someone docile, untouched, and quiet. Do you think we can find that in the dating pool? You want to throw him on Omega Tinder and see what shows up?"
I finally spoke, voice low, controlled.
"He's not wrong."
They both Froze. Theo's mouth curved upward in a slow smirk. Enzo stared like I'd just declared I'd be retiring to start a bakery.
"You… you're actually considering this?" Enzo said, blinking.
I leaned back, scotch untouched on the table, fingers steepled.
"Do you know what I want in a partner?" I asked, tone even.
Neither answered. I continued.
"I don't want a spouse. I don't want a love story. I want silence. I want obedience. I want someone who won't flinch when I walk into the room. Someone who understands their role, plays it well, and doesn't cry about it afterward. I want a contract, not a bond."
Theo nodded, thoughtful. "A transactional relationship. Safe. Clean. Bound by papers and mutual benefit."
"Exactly."
Enzo made a face. "You don't want a partner, you want a... breathing doll."
"A doll doesn't get pregnant," I said flatly. "I need an heir. That's the requirement. Love only complicates things."
Silence fell again, the rain intensifying against the glass like applause.
Theo rose, pacing a little. "There's an auction in two nights. I can pull some strings, get us access. I know someone who vets the profiles. You can choose the omega yourself."
Enzo stood too, running a hand through his tousled hair. "You're both insane. This is kidnapping with extra steps."
"No," I said. "It's the cleanest solution."
My grandfather wanted an heir. My mother wanted a polished omega to present to the mafia wives. My father just wanted to avoid scandal. And I? I wanted silence. Peace.
A contract bride was the only option that met everyone's terms without costing me control.
"You'll help arrange it?" I asked Theo.
He gave me a mock salute. "I'll handle it. Just tell me what you want, down to eye color."
I gave a brief nod. "Untouched. Age between nineteen and twenty-two. Quiet. No previous heat partners. No family ties. No one who will come searching for them afterward."
Enzo muttered, "Jesus, you sound like you're ordering a corpse."
"I prefer my problems dead or silent. This one will be silent."
Theo clapped his hands once, grinning. "Perfect. I'll have the profiles ready by tomorrow night. We'll prep for the auction."
"And the contract?"
"Two years," I said. "No emotional entanglements. They get a stipend, a home, protection. In exchange, they bear my heir and play the role of a wife in public. Once the child is born and turns one, the contract ends. They walk away."
Enzo sighed. "And if they fall for you?"
I looked him in the eye. "Then they'll break their own heart. Not my problem."
Theo let out a low whistle. "Cold. Even for you."
"Necessity isn't warm."
The room settled into a strange, anticipatory silence. The deal had not yet begun, but the game was in motion. And somewhere out there, the omega who would carry my name—and my child—was waiting.
Not for love. Not for forever.
Just for two years, a contract, and silence.
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