Jackson looked down and gave a quiet "Mm" before taking the small paper cup from Enola and sipping the warm soup. The heat settled in his stomach, easing the discomfort, even soothing the dull ache in his glands.
"It's very good," Jackson said. Enola's eyes curved in satisfaction, pleased to see the favorability score reach 20 in his mind.
Meanwhile, the assistant in the front seat couldn't hide his surprise.
The car moved smoothly to the apartment complex, and when they reached the underground garage, Enola stepped out, surprised to see Jackson also exiting.
"You live here too?" Enola asked.
Jackson nodded.
The assistant handed Jackson a few contracts and waved goodbye to Enola with a friendly smile. "Goodbye, Mr. Enola."
"Goodbye, take care," Enola replied.
On the way, he had chatted briefly with the assistant, learning his name. As the assistant left, he couldn't help noticing how well Enola and Jackson seemed to match standing there together. This coincidence felt almost intentional, but considering that Mr. Enola was an omega with a wedding ring, it was likely just a coincidence. Besides, Mr. Enola was such a gentle and considerate person; anyone who met him would naturally be drawn to him.
Enola watched the car drive away, then followed Jackson into the elevator. After pressing the button for the 25th floor, he looked over. "Which floor are you on?"
"Twenty-six."
Enola's eyes widened slightly, then he smiled. "What a coincidence."
Just as he spoke, there was a loud "clang," followed by a jolt as the elevator suddenly stopped.
Enola steadied himself against the wall, glancing anxiously at the inactive buttons. He looked at Jackson. "I think the elevator… it's broken."
He checked his phone but found no signal. Scanning the elevator, he noted, "I think there's an emergency button."
Jackson, calm as ever, pressed the button, positioned high up on the wall for Enola, turning it green. After about thirty seconds, a voice came through the intercom, "We apologize for the inconvenience. Our maintenance team has contacted the fire department. We should have the elevator open in about thirty minutes."
Enola exhaled in relief. "Good, it's not too long."
As he turned, he noticed that Jackson's condition seemed off. Jackson's face was pale, lips pressed tightly together, with cold sweat breaking out on his forehead, though his neck was flushed red.
"Are you alright?" Enola asked, concerned. "You don't look well."
Jackson seemed to snap back, taking a deep breath as he replied, though his voice was strained. "I'm fine."
Normally, Jackson only experienced mild claustrophobia, but with his glands already irritated and the confined space, he was beginning to feel overwhelmed.
Enola watched closely, noticing Jackson's condition worsening as he clenched his fists, his breathing quickening.
"Maybe you should sit down and rest for a bit. It'll only be twenty more minutes," Enola suggested softly.
Jackson intended to refuse, but whenever Enola drew closer, the burn at the back of his neck seemed to intensify. He sank against the wall, sliding down to the floor, pressing his fingers to his temples as he fought the overpowering instinct to seek omega pheromones for relief.
His susceptibility period had come early.
Dazed, with a parched throat, Jackson found himself craving the scent and comfort of an omega's pheromones. He despised this side of his alpha nature, an animalistic instinct that was difficult to control.
Half-lidded, Jackson noticed Enola's hand reaching out toward his forehead. Typically, Jackson disliked being touched, and he lifted his hand to block it.
"Stay still."
But his movements were slower than usual, and Enola's cool hand had already touched his forehead. The contact was as gentle and comforting as Enola himself, carrying his delicate rose scent.
Jackson paused, feeling the burn at the back of his neck intensify, along with an odd longing for that jasmine-like fragrance Enola exuded.
Abruptly, he pulled Enola's hand away, his tone cold. "Stay back."
Enola bit his lip, looking slightly embarrassed but still calm. "I'm sorry. I just wanted to check if you had a fever."
Jackson noticed the faint red mark on Enola's hand, where he'd pushed him away. Even with Jackson's sharp rejection, Enola maintained his gentle, good-natured expression. Despite his beauty, he was surprisingly careful and considerate.
An odd thought popped into Jackson's mind—easy to push around, like a soft little bun.
Immediately, Jackson frowned, annoyed with himself for such a thought. He murmured, "It's not a fever. It's my susceptibility period."
Susceptibility period…
Enola's ears turned red, and he lowered his gaze as he recognized the increasingly strong sandalwood scent that filled the small elevator. So, it was his susceptibility period—no wonder he was so averse to being touched.
But what a coincidence.
Enola took a few steps back, quietly waiting for the rescue team. However, Jackson's condition grew worse as time passed; his face turned ashen, his fist clenched so tightly that traces of blood appeared on his knuckles.
"Sir?"
Jackson forced himself to focus on the voice, lifting his gaze to see Enola kneeling in front of him, his concerned face close.
"Sir, if you don't get some relief during your susceptibility period, it could damage your glands," Enola said gently. "I can help you."
Gland damage could drive both alphas and omegas mad. Relief options were limited: either an inhibitor or an omega's pheromones.
Jackson's voice was rough. "Do you have an inhibitor?"
Enola hesitated, reaching to the back of his neck. A rich, rose fragrance filled the elevator, intertwining with Jackson's sandalwood.
"You're… an omega?" Jackson asked, briefly surprised.
Seeing the usually composed Jackson slightly dazed, Enola smiled softly, more at ease. "Yes."
Enola moved a bit closer, brushing his hair aside to reveal his pale neck.
Jackson's gaze was drawn to the faintly blushed skin at the back of Enola's neck, a spot that almost seemed to invite his touch.
Quickly, Jackson looked away, frowning as he heard Enola murmur with a hint of amusement, "Do I not seem like one?"
Seem like what…?
An omega?
Jackson thought about it. Enola didn't resemble the spoiled image commonly associated with omegas. Instead, he was gentle, considerate, and naturally calming. His tall, slender figure and refined features were strikingly different from the typical "cute" omega look.
"Not really," Jackson replied.
Their mingling scents provided some relief to Jackson's susceptibility period, but there was a peculiar chemistry between the two pheromones, which caused Jackson to frown again.
He glanced up, noticing Enola's slightly flushed face, his gaze downcast, ears tinged red.
"How are you feeling?"
Startled, Enola looked up, his eyes wide, lips parted. "I-I'm… a bit warm."
Jackson's expression was unreadable. "You're… in heat."
The atmosphere in the elevator became tense, oddly charged.
An alpha in susceptibility and an omega in heat together—it could only lead to intimacy, comfort, or even marking.
"I…" Enola quickly pressed the emergency button again. After a pause, the voice returned, "Hello, we apologize—"
A bit dizzy, Enola only vaguely registered the words about a delay in rescue. He leaned back against the wall, trying to steady himself, but the air was thick with sandalwood and rose. The scent was nearly incendiary.
His knees went weak, and he stumbled with a soft "Ah."
Instead of hitting the ground, he found himself in Jackson's firm grip.
"Are you alright?" Jackson's deep voice was close to his ear. Enola blinked, lifting his gaze, his red-tinted eyes meeting Jackson's as he whispered, "Sir, I… I'm not in the best condition myself. I might make things harder for you, so please… keep your distance."
Remembering Jackson's earlier warning, Enola tried to keep his distance, though his own state was worsening. His neck was flushed, his eyelids heavy, but he still managed a polite, apologetic smile. "Sorry for being such a bother."
Jackson watched him, reminded of Enola's earlier words about how an alpha could suffer gland damage from a susceptibility period. The same was true for omegas, and potentially worse.
As Jackson watched, Enola pulled out an omega inhibitor patch from his pocket, tearing it open. "This should help cover the scent."
"Your susceptibility has just stabilized; if my scent disrupts it, that wouldn't be good," he murmured.
But the patch would only worsen Enola's heat.
Expressionless, Jackson took the patch from him. "Hmm?" Enola blinked, watching as Jackson took a pen from his briefcase, pricking his thumb until a drop of pheromone-laden blood seeped out.
Raising his hand toward Enola, Jackson said, "No need to thank me. Consider it repayment for the soup."
Enola hesitated, but then leaned forward, his lips brushing against Jackson's thumb as he took in the faintly metallic taste of blood. The warmth spread through him, and the burning sensation in his glands began to ease. A soft, almost purring sound escaped him.
The moment Enola's lips touched his thumb, Jackson froze, surprised. He'd only intended for the pheromones to disperse quickly—not for Enola to… actually taste his blood.
The sensation of the wound being gently sucked was unexpectedly intense.
Jackson kept his expression neutral, his gaze fixed on Enola.
"Thank you," Enola murmured, smiling shyly, his eyes softened. With a hint of blush and blood staining his lips, he looked unassumingly beautiful, subtly inviting.
Jackson's gaze lingered on his lips, almost tempted to confirm if they were as soft and sweet as they looked.
"Your name…" Jackson said quietly, "It's Jackson."
Enola blinked, tilting his head in slight confusion, which made him look adorably innocent. "Pardon?"
"My name," Jackson repeated.
"Oh," Enola replied. "Thank you, Mr. Jackson."
For some reason, hearing "Mr. Jackson" from Enola felt unfamiliar, almost odd.
Jackson reasoned it was simply because he was stuck here with an unfamiliar omega, and that he'd feel normal again once they left the elevator.
After a while, noise from outside indicated the rescue had arrived, and within a few minutes, the elevator doors were forced open. The property staff looked incredibly apologetic, especially when they realized Jackson was among the trapped tenants.
One of them immediately stepped forward, recognizing Jackson as the CEO of Gu Corp. from an event he'd attended with his cousin. Nervously, he approached Jackson, trying to make an impression.
Just then, he spotted the omega behind Jackson—elegant and coolly beautiful. His eyes lit up, thinking that maybe this was Jackson's fiancé.
"Let me take that!" the staff member said, reaching for Enola's thermos. "Please, Mr. Omega, you shouldn't have to carry something heavy like this. Leave it to us betas."
Then, turning back to Enola, he added, "And what may I call you?"
Enola pursed his lips, a bit hesitant. "My surname is Jiang."
The man flattered Enola with a few more words and then, with a knowing smile, said, "Madam Gu, you're very beautiful—what a perfect match with Mr. Jackson."
Enola's eyes widened in surprise. "I'm not—"
Jackson cut him off. "Enola, let's go."
Normally indifferent to these types of people, Jackson found himself unusually annoyed today.
Enola murmured a soft "Mm," taking back the thermos and following Jackson.
Once inside, Jackson pressed the buttons for the 25th and 26th floors, glancing at Enola's slender, fair neck and noticing the faint blush of his swollen glands.
"Ding—" The elevator reached the 25th floor, but Enola didn't move.
Jackson looked down at him, "?"
Enola tilted his head up with a soft smile. "Mr. Jackson, thank you for everything. May I add you on WeChat?"
Jackson frowned slightly.
Enola already had his phone out, displaying his QR code. "Please, scan me."
Jackson wasn't much of a WeChat user, preferring to conduct business over email or phone, and initially thought to refuse. But something about Enola's earnest gaze made him take out his phone.
"Buzz—"
"Added."
Enola waved as he exited. "Goodnight, Mr. Jackson." Jackson nodded, glancing at the new contact on his WeChat. It was Enola, with a profile picture of an orange, chubby cat.
Jackson frowned, wondering if Enola owned the cat. It looked unhealthy, almost like a small truck.
Just then, a photo message popped up from Enola: a waving orange cat with the text, "Hello."
Jackson glanced at it briefly before stepping out on the 26th floor and entering his apartment.
This new place was close to the office, but he'd been too busy to move in properly and still spent most nights at the company.
Entering his apartment, the darkness and chill in the air made him pinch the bridge of his nose as he switched on the lights, only to see a few pairs of shoes scattered at the entrance. Most likely, they belonged to Billy, who'd recently moved nearby.
Jackson sighed, making his way to the bedroom, only to be greeted by dust in the air. Checking the time, he decided against calling for housekeeping and took a spare blanket to sleep on the couch.
His head felt heavy, likely a result of his susceptibility period and the earlier events, and he needed rest.
After what felt like only a short time, the doorbell rang. He sat up, frowning. It was late—perhaps Billy?
Slipping on his shoes, he opened the door, only to find Enola standing there.
Enola had changed into comfortable loungewear, his hair tied up, looking freshly washed and carrying a soft freshness with him.
"Mr. Jackson." Jackson frowned, unable to help wondering why an omega was visiting at this hour.
Enola raised his hand, showing a towel and a syringe. "Mr. Jackson, this is an alpha inhibitor."
"Given your condition earlier, I thought it necessary. Do you have someone here to take care of you?" he asked gently.
Jackson replied, "No need."
So, no one was here.
Enola stepped forward. "Then I'll come in."
His soft smile and calm demeanor made Jackson hesitate, but the throbbing in his glands grew more intense, and he found himself allowing it.
Seeing no spare shoes, Enola asked, "Do you have shoe covers? Or a bag would work."
Jackson looked at him, "No need, just come in."
Enola sighed softly. "Then, sorry for the intrusion."
System 555 cheered, "Host, good news! Jackson's favorability score just hit 40!"
Enola's lips curved into a satisfied smile. It seemed the famously hard-to-reach CEO Jackson wasn't so difficult to approach after all.