NOVEL NEXT chapter 3
The man’s face turns a deep shade of red, a clear flush of embarrassment washing over him. He glances around helplessly, then looks up at Dominic with disbelief in his eyes.
“I, I came to… make an offer.”
He tries to continue, but his throat is already dry, and his breathing uneven, making it impossible to form a coherent sentence. He struggles to steady his shaking knees and casts quick glances toward the door. He holds out as long as he can—until he simply can’t anymore. But his mind is already drowning in Pheromones, clouding any rational thought.
He turns toward the door in a panic, but it’s already too late. After only a few steps, his legs give out, and collapsing to the floor, he gasps for air. His pleading, tear-glossed gaze drifts back to Dominic. Now, only one thought remains.
He crawls on all fours, like he’s wiping the floor with his body, and makes his way back to Dominic. His trembling hands clutch at the hem of Dominic’s pants, forcing himself upright. Hugging Dominic’s legs, barely managing to raise his head, he looks up with a desperate, pleading expression.
Dominic… please…
“Mr. Miller?”
The man called out again, sounding confused. Dominic still only stared at him, silent. He wasn’t on the floor. He wasn’t clinging to Dominic’s legs or begging with tear-filled eyes. Ashley Dawson was standing upright, firm on his feet, looking up at Dominic with a polished, professional smile. As if nothing had ever happened.
Everything was just as before—except for the lingering intensity of Dominic’s Pheromone scent.
“You.”
Dominic finally spoke. The man, still wearing a faint smile though his shoulders were visibly tense, waited for what would come next. Dominic fixed his gaze on him and asked:
“What’s your trait?”
The man answered calmly, a quiet chuckle in his voice. Almost too casual.
“I’m a Gamma.”
Dominic fell silent again.
So that was it. That’s why he hadn’t reacted to the Pheromones.
Now it made sense why the law firm had sent this man. The only type that can resist a Supreme Alpha’s Pheromones is Gamma. Even a Beta would show signs of distress with this much scent in the air.
But Gammas are different. Their trait resists mutation, even under the influence of a Supreme Alpha’s Pheromones. It’s virtually impossible to force a mutation without exposing a Gamma to an overwhelming dose for an extended time. In practice, that made it unfeasible. Who would risk committing a crime by locking up a Gamma just to mutate him?
Because of this rare resistance, they’re often employed in security roles. Especially for Supreme Alphas, who pay well to keep Gammas close. The trait becomes a professional advantage.
That said, mutation isn’t entirely off the table. Even Gammas vary in sensitivity, and if one is unlucky enough to have heightened Pheromone response, there’s still a slim chance of mutation—even in a security role. That’s why security teams usually work in shifts. They rotate after a set time, giving their bodies a break from exposure. If this system is ignored and a Gamma mutates, they die.
And if they survive, their bodies are irreversibly changed. Some can’t walk properly ever again, their lifespan is reduced, and if pregnancy occurs during mutation, the odds of survival shrink even further. Surviving that state is nothing short of a miracle.
To put it plainly, this man was standing here at risk to his life. Or, more likely, with the certainty that he never would mutate. Judging by his composure, Dominic was inclined to believe the latter.
“Is this your first time meeting a Gamma who’s not a bodyguard?”
The man asked, still smiling. Dominic didn’t answer, but the man continued as if he already knew.
“Thought so. Most Gammas work personal security for Supreme Alphas. People are always surprised when I tell them my trait.”
Having said his piece, he looked at Dominic, trying to read his reaction. But when Dominic said nothing, the man concluded today wasn’t the day for a real conversation.
He was the kind of man who knew when to press forward and when to back off. Realizing it was time to retreat, he stepped away without hesitation and added:
“Please reach out if you decide sooner.”
With that final line, he turned around. Dominic expected him to leave straightaway, but the man stopped abruptly. Instead of walking toward the door, he paused, then shifted direction.
He was looking at the chessboard.
“Excuse me.”
He hesitated, like he regretted opening his mouth, and smiled a little awkwardly.
“Would it be alright if I touched the horse?”
At the odd request, Dominic frowned, then gave a slight raise and drop of his hand—an unspoken go-ahead. He already knew the placement of every piece. It didn’t matter if the man moved one.
Given the signal, the man reached for the black knight and shifted it into a new position, like he’d been waiting for permission all along. What Dominic hadn’t anticipated was what followed. In that moment, Dominic saw it clearly: the man’s face lit with mischievous delight as he looked down at the board.
Then, offering one last polite nod, he left the office with light steps. Dominic stood still for a long moment after the door shut, then slowly turned his head.
He walked to the table just as the man had, stood where Ashley had stood, and looked down at the board. He stayed there, unmoving, staring.
It was checkmate.
With Passacaglia softly playing from the speakers, Dominic opened the humidor and chose a cigar. He lifted one, breathed in its scent, clipped the tip with a cutter, and lit it with deliberate care.
Hoo…
After drawing in the first curl of smoke, he dropped into the lounge chair, stretched his long legs out onto the ottoman, and closed his eyes. Harpsichord pieces were always ideal—whether it was to unwind after a long day, calm a storming mind, or sort through tangled thoughts.
All preparations for the vacation were complete. On a normal day, he would have taken the day off tomorrow and escaped to a secluded villa where no one could reach him. But this time, an unexpected variable had appeared.
Ashley J. Dawson.
He stared down at the document in his hands. It held every detail about the man who had managed to stir something in him in such a short amount of time.
The man was the only child of a typical middle-class family. One of his parents was a Gamma, and he had inherited the trait. After graduating from a prestigious law school and passing the bar, he’d landed a position at a major law firm—more by luck than anything else.
This was the first real ‘case’ ever assigned to him. Given that Dominic had never heard his name before, he had likely been handling menial assignments or supporting others on work nobody wanted. If he had been promised a huge reward for succeeding in this case, it would complete the picture.
A predictable scenario—but Dominic didn’t care about that. There was only one thing that stood out.
To make that move.
The image of the chessboard kept looping in his head. Why hadn’t he thought to place the piece there? Once you knew it, it was # Nоvеlight # such an obvious move. Even though he’d been swamped preparing for trial, that one position had stumped him for over a week—yet the man had found checkmate after just one glance. How?
That innocent smile the man gave before leaving wouldn’t leave his mind. He’d said several presumptuous things, but they were nothing compared to that.
He was probably just as smug in the courtroom.
He wanted to drag him into court and humiliate him. To see his face turn bright red and then crumple into tears after a devastating defeat. As that image filled his head, Dominic suddenly felt heat bloom below his waist.
The music kept shifting. But Dominic stayed seated, deep in thought.
A short chime broke the quiet—an alert from the reception desk that someone had arrived. It was early evening, and he hadn’t expected company unless… right. He had been told in advance the man would visit. That meant he would’ve passed through security without issue. Dominic could clearly imagine him giving his name and credentials at the front desk, being escorted by a guard into the private elevator, and riding to the top floor.
Sure enough, the man arrived not long after. The door opened, and soft footsteps in slippers echoed through the penthouse.
“Miller, it’s Dawson.”
His slightly high-pitched voice had a faint tremble to it—nerves, maybe. Dominic sipped his liquor without rush, waiting for the man to find him. The steps drew closer through the expansive space, until finally, the man appeared at the bar where Dominic was drinking.
“There you are.”
The man sighed softly, almost relieved. His mumble gained strength and turned into something more assured.
“Thank you for inviting me. I was honestly glad you reached out so quickly.”
He stood at a polite distance, face slightly flushed. Despite the abrupt summons, he had come without hesitation. Like a dog that had waited all day for its master’s attention—eager, responsive, and completely present. His taut shoulders and gleaming eyes betrayed everything he was trying not to show.
Dominic looked him over slowly—just as perfectly dressed as the first time they met. Not a wrinkle in sight. His hair slicked back, not a single strand out of place. The elegant, deer-like curve of his neck caught his eye.
What would it be like to clasp a collar around that neck and make him lie naked on the floor? Would he accept it without resistance?
Narrowing his long eyes, Dominic watched as the man spoke again.
“Can I take this as a positive sign regarding our firm’s proposal?”
It was a natural assumption. After all, being invited to one’s home certainly implied interest. The man couldn’t conceal his excitement—but that would only make it a vulnerability.
“Well, maybe.”
Dominic replied evasively, almost playfully. But the man didn’t flinch—he leaned in with enthusiasm.
“We’re ready to accept any terms.”
Dominic responded only with a faint, unreadable smile. Without a word, he turned to grab a second glass, poured liquor into it, and extended it to the man. The man looked momentarily flustered, adjusting his grip on the briefcase. He glanced around but didn’t set it down—he hadn’t been given permission. And he wasn’t about to offend the one person he had to please. He chose discomfort over disrespect, clutching his bag in one hand as he walked to the bar and accepted the drink with the other.
“Thank you.”
He offered the line with a formal smile. Dominic then poured himself another glass. When the man watched him down it in one swallow, a flicker of tension crossed his face—but he didn’t hesitate. He brought the drink to his lips without question, as though Dominic had poured him exactly what he’d been craving.
Dominic watched closely as the man tilted his head back and let the liquid slide down, his Adam’s apple moving up and down in the center of that long, slim neck. The man exhaled lightly and lowered his glass.
“You drink without even asking what it is.”
Dominic’s voice was smooth, but the words dripped with sarcasm. He was mocking the man’s obedience, but the man didn’t react.
“Didn’t you drink it too?”
As if that offered any guarantee. Dominic scoffed.
“You’re a Gamma, after all.”
There was plenty implied in that. But the takeaway was the same: the only thing he and this man shared was species.
Then it hit him—Gammas, especially ones immune to toxins or medicine, could safely drink anything. He glanced down at the empty glass.
Could it be…?
The tension in the air shifted. It wasn’t the awkward pause from earlier—this was something entirely different.