Unexpected Alliances and Strengthening the Bond The day after the sabotage was publicly revealed, the loft seemed eerily calm.
But beneath the apparent tranquility, the tension was palpable. Aru and Kio, exhausted by recent events, knew the battle was only just beginning. As they reviewed the files on their screens, a message arrived unexpectedly. A discreet notification: an invitation to coffee, accompanied by a simple note:
"I can help."
"Yumi."
Aru frowned in surprise.
"Yumi?"
he whispered.
"She's the cybersecurity expert I met during the first phase of NOX."
Kio looked up, intrigued. "Do you think she's sincere?"
So they agreed to the meeting. A few hours later, Yumi entered their loft, a calm smile on her lips, but with clear determination in her eyes.
"I don't know," Aru replied,
"but at this point, we need all the help we can get."
"I'm sorry I've been absent lately," she said, addressing Aru, then Kio.
"I heard what happened, and I want to help you regain control."
But it wasn't just at work that their relationship was evolving. Exhausted by stress, they found themselves seeking comfort in each other's presence.
The days that followed were a whirlwind of activity. Yumi analyzed, hacked into compromised servers, and tracked down the digital signatures left by the saboteurs. Little by little, she pieced together the map of manipulation, providing Aru and Kio with solid evidence to present to the authorities.
One night, after a long work session, Kio approached Aru, placing a light hand on his shoulder. Aru looked up at him, his face marked with fatigue.
"You should rest," he murmured.
"I can't… not until this nightmare is over."
Words weren't enough. They embraced, finding refuge from the cold outside in the warmth of their bodies. Kio gently caressed his cheek.
"I… I don't know what you're talking about. I'm here. We'll get through it together."
In the bedroom, their gestures became slower, softer. Each kiss held the promise of a better tomorrow. Aru guided Kio with a new delicacy, trying to show him that despite everything, their love could heal.
They also spoke at length, revealing their fears, their doubts, their dreams. The vulnerability they shared brought them closer than ever. For several days, they alternated between intense moments of passion and moments of calm, rebuilding their bond stone by stone.
One evening, as Yumi left the loft after a day of work, Aru and Kio remained alone, huddled against each other. And I will never let you down, replied Kio. I never want to doubt you again, whispered Aru. In this complicit silence, they sealed a new promise, stronger than the storms surrounding them.
The days following the conference were intense. Aru, Kio, and Yumi worked tirelessly to put together a recovery plan for NOX. But beyond the public image, everything was happening behind the scenes. Kio nodded, focused.
"Every action must be legible, traceable,"
explained Aru during a meeting. If they see that we act honestly, they'll believe in us again. They installed a temporary management committee, composed of handpicked employees—honest, competent, loyal. Together, they built a three-pronged strategy: internal transparency, external audit, and reinstatement of wrongly dismissed employees.
And if the former shareholders or investors come back to the charge?
"We confront them with results," Yumi said, smiling.
"And if that's not enough, we show them that we can continue without them."
Meanwhile, former collaborators who had previously remained silent returned to them. Some carried information. Others, regrets. But a message received on Kio's private terminal tarnished this dynamic: a thinly veiled threat.
A former acquaintance of his father, linked to a group of powerful influencers in the business world, demanded that NOX withdraw from certain sectors.
"They don't want us to succeed," Kio murmured, reading the note.
They're afraid of what we represent. Aru approached him and placed a firm hand on his shoulder.
"Then we'll prove to them that our future doesn't depend on them."
That same evening, they held a secret meeting in their apartment, attended by former competitors turned allies, as well as emerging investors. Together, they forged a new network. More independent. Younger. Bolder. The foundations of NOX changed.
And in this transformation, the bond between Aru and Kio grew even stronger. Their relationship was no longer just that of two alphas in love. It was also a strategic alliance, built on trust, respect, and a shared ambition. It was supposed to be a casual meeting.
Aru, traveling to sign a potential partnership with a startup incubator, didn't expect the team there to have hired an omega... in the middle of a heat phase. She was young, clearly poorly supervised, and the room wasn't properly ventilated.
Aru smelled her before she even entered. The scent was subtle but invasive, seeping into her system like a hot blade under the skin.
"Mr. Aru?" She stood up, approaching too quickly.
"I greatly admire what you do. I've been following you since your beginnings..." He took a step back, tense.
"You should stay away; you're in a reasonable period." But she didn't listen. Her pupils dilated, her voice low, she placed a hand on his arm.
"You're a strong alpha. I'm sure you know how to... calm a heat."
Aru clenched his fists. He struggled internally. His body responded in spite of himself. The smell, the signals, the confined atmosphere… everything pressed on his instincts. He took a step toward her. Just one. A moment of weakness.
A breath. Then, he tore himself away from the impulse, brutally. He grabbed his phone, left the room without a word. His heart was beating furiously. He remained leaning against a wall in the deserted hallway, ashamed
. He had failed. He had wanted Kiou. He immediately thinks of him. Of his dark eyes full of trust. Of his arms around him, of the taste of his skin. He inhales deeply, almost violently, forcing the instinct to shut down.
Back at the loft that evening, he says nothing at first. He was ashamed. But Kio senses his discomfort.
"What happened?" he demanded calmly. Aru lowered her eyes.
"There was an omega. In heat. I held on. But I almost gave in. My body… I didn't recognize myself anymore. A long silence fell. Kio looked away, jaw clenched. "
"Thank you for telling me," he finally said.
"But I wish I'd never had to imagine this." Aru reached out, but Kio pulled back.
"I believe you. But I need time. I need space. Not because I'm mad at you. Because I'm scared. Because I'm in pain."
Aru stayed there, alone, while Kio locked himself in their room. And in that heavy silence, he understood that trust, even the most solid, could crack with a breath. The loft had been silent for two days. Not a word, not a glance.
Aru slept on the couch, his back broken by bad posture, his mind too heavy to allow himself any rest. Kio stayed in their room, the shutters still closed, as if to filter reality. The days seemed to stretch, suspended between two muffled heartbeats.
Aru was going around in circles. He discovered the message he had received from the omega—a clumsy attempt at an apology, which he had ignored. Nothing erased that moment of weakness, nothing justified the step he had almost taken. He had pushed it away.
He had controlled himself. But the damage was done. Night fell, cold and damp. He dared to knock on their bedroom door.
"Kio… please. Tell me you're okay. Talk to me."
A silence. Then a rustle. The door barely opened. Kio appeared, tired, dark circles under his eyes, his face closed.
"I don't know what to tell you, Aru. I'm trying to understand. I'm trying not to imagine… what you felt. What you might have done if you had stayed a minute longer." Aru swallowed hard.
"I backed away. I ran, Kio. I chose you."
"But you hesitated."
The words cut the air between them like a limp.
"Don't you realize what it's like to be an alpha… to have to fight against yourself, every second, in this kind of situation."
"You think I don't fight too?" Kio replied.
"Every day, I fight the fear that the world will tear you away from me. And this time, it almost happened."
Aru closed her eyes, her throat tight.
"Do you still think I'm worthy of you?"
Kio didn't answer right away. Then, in a broken voice,
"I think you're human. And maybe that's what scares me most."
He gently closed the door. And Aru stood there, his forehead pressed against the wood, alone in the darkness, with the echo of a love that still held on… but only just.