The Billionaire Discarded Omega

His husband

[Nico’s POV]

Click! Clack!

My shoes echoed sharply against the marble as I stumbled toward the car, heat coiling through my chest, my throat, every nerve alive and screaming. Every step felt like walking through fire, and I could feel it radiating outward—surely the people around me could smell it, sense it.

Why… why now? Why today of all days?

Every muscle was taut, every thought splintered. My chest felt like it was both collapsing and expanding at once, my stomach twisting with frustration, need, and helplessness.

“Nico…”

The voice cut through the haze. My head snapped up.

Livia.

She stood a few steps away, arms crossed, her expression a strange mixture of curiosity and something darker. Something knowing.

“Why… why are you out here so long?” Her voice was light, almost playful—but then her nose twitched. Her eyes narrowed, scanning me as if she were hunting prey.

Her lips parted slightly. “You…” she murmured, tilting her head. Then she raised a hand to cover her nose, drawing back as though repulsed and intrigued at the same time.

“You’re… in heat?”

I froze. My chest heaved. My lips parted to speak, but all that came out was a ragged, trembling breath. My legs quivered. My fingers dug into the leather of my gloves as the heat burned hotter, hotter… unbearable.

Then I saw it.

A smirk.

Not casual. Not playful. Not even polite. It was slow, deliberate—the kind that promised mischief, cruelty, and satisfaction all at once. It was the kind of smirk that said, I’ve been waiting for this moment.

But just as quickly, it vanished. Livia straightened, her posture immaculate, eyes scanning me with a clinical, cold precision. She glanced toward the driver, lips curling into a gentle, almost innocent smile.

“Can you… help us?” she asked softly, her voice warm, sugar-coated… yet every inch of her body screamed menace.

The driver’s face flushed crimson, fumbling as he nodded, clearly unsettled by the subtle tension radiating from her.

I huffed, trembling, heat threatening to consume me from the inside out. My breaths came shallow, quick, almost desperate. My hands shook as I pressed them to my chest, trying to ground myself—but nothing could tame this fire inside me.

And Livia… Livia’s gentle smile lingered in my mind, but her eyes… her eyes promised everything I feared and wanted all at once.

“You…” she whispered, voice soft again, leaning slightly closer, letting the tiniest pause hang between us, “you’re going to make this… very interesting, aren’t you?”

I couldn’t answer. My mind scrambled, my body betraying me, burning with need, humiliation, and panic. Then a hand—cold, deliberate—landed on my shoulder.

“Let’s go, master,” the driver said smoothly.

No. No… something felt wrong.

My chest tightened, every nerve screaming. My legs trembled, but my body refused to obey me. Then the smell hit me—pervasive, cunning, rotting beneath its civility. The driver had released his pheromones. My stomach twisted. My head spun. Pain clawed through my chest, heat ripping through me, unbearable, unstoppable.

I struggled, every ounce of my strength trying to fight back. My hands clawed at his arms. “L-leave… me…” I gasped, trembling violently.

He leaned closer, hands sliding dangerously around my waist. The touch was filthy, invasive. “I’m helping you, master. Let’s go,” he murmured, voice soft but coated with menace.

I twisted, tried to look at Livia, to plead. My lips trembled. “Please… please help… help me…”

She didn’t move. She didn’t flinch. She just stared, cold, calculating, letting it play out with cruel amusement. Everything blurred around me. The driver’s hands were firm, controlling, and I felt like I was being dragged into a trap I couldn’t escape.

Then—a voice, sharp, cutting through everything:

“WHAT’S GOING ON HERE?!”

I froze. My body stiffened. Even through the haze, I knew that voice. That tone.

Dante. My husband is here.

The driver’s grip faltered for the briefest moment, enough for me to sense Dante’s presence closing in like a storm.

“How dare you!” Dante’s roar shattered the space.

I felt the world tilt, and suddenly strong arms wrapped around me, lifting me from the driver’s grasp. I blinked through my blurred vision and found myself pressed against Dante’s chest. His face was a storm—eyes blazing, jaw tight, every inch of him lethal and unyielding.

“Livia… call the cops! Make his arrest!” he barked, teeth gritted, his voice sharper than any blade I had ever felt.

I clutched at him desperately, the heat, the fear, the shame, all pooling into raw relief. My voice was barely a whisper.

“It’s… it’s alright. I’m here now,” Dante murmured, voice dropping low, possessive, protective. His hand cupped my cheek, tilting my face gently upward. “Close your eyes… focus on me.”

I obeyed instinctively, resting against him, letting his strength, his unyielding presence anchor me.

“You’re mine,” he growled, low and dangerous, more to the driver than to me. “And no one touches what’s mine.”

Dante released his warm pheromones and wrapped me in his warmness and my vision was back slightly, but still heat coiled around me like a snake.

I saw the driver’s face pale, realizing the storm he had crossed, but Dante didn’t hesitate. Every inch of his body radiated dominance, protection, and ruthless intent. I pressed myself closer, inhaling Dante’s scent, feeling his pulse steady against my racing one. Heat still burned through me, but his presence grounded me, soothed me, and ignited something else—a fierce, undeniable belonging.

“You won’t hurt me,” I whispered, trembling.

“I will never let anyone hurt you,” Dante replied, voice iron, voice silk, voice lethal all at once. “Never.”

The room still buzzed with tension, the blurred lights and murmuring guests fading into the background. There was only him. Only the safety and danger of Dante—my ruthless, terrifying, utterly unrelenting husband.

And at that moment, even in my weakness, I knew: I was safe for now.