Chapter 13: A Long-Planned Betrayal

The moment Shao Ye left for work, Lu Zhanxing dove headfirst into his newest obsession—kitchen equipment.

This past week, the kitchen had turned into a warzone. Pots and pans met a grisly fate, one after another, under his relentless assault. Yet, in the end, he emerged victorious, producing a dish that, by some miracle, resembled real food.

Trash bag in hand, he stepped out of the apartment. His sharp instincts immediately registered the prying eyes hidden in the shadows, tracking his every move.

But Lu Zhanxing didn’t flinch. His expression remained calm, his steps casual, radiating a nonchalance that betrayed nothing.

His life was a simple, repetitive routine: every morning, he went out to buy breakfast for Shao Ye, replaced the latest casualty among his kitchenware with a new online purchase, signed for deliveries, and then buried himself in household chores.

Elsewhere, Boss Bai lounged with a wine glass in hand, eyes glued to the surveillance footage his detective had sent over. His gaze narrowed, thoughtful yet tinged with something darker.

He knew exactly why Shao Ye had married this man—it was a ploy to secure a coveted spot in the government’s public housing program. But the man who suddenly appeared at Shao Ye’s side was a mystery wrapped in fog. No matter how hard Bai tried, he couldn’t uncover his background. It was as if he had materialized out of thin air, yet somehow had seamlessly become Shao Ye’s “family.”

From the moment they first met, Bai’s instincts screamed that this man was an Alpha. Yet, the reports from his spies unequivocally labeled him a Beta.

Was he also hiding his true identity, just like Shao Ye?

Bai’s brow furrowed as he issued a curt order to his subordinate: “Take his photo to the Imperial Star’s resident database. Compare it against every record. Report back the moment you find anything.”

“Yes, sir.” The subordinate bowed and exited the room.

Bai’s gaze returned to the screen. His expression darkened when he saw Shao Ye returning home. Unable to suppress himself, he reached toward the monitor, fingertips brushing the air as though he could touch the youth.

Then, the scene shifted. Shao Ye flung himself into Lu Zhanxing’s arms, tears streaking down his face as he buried himself against the other man’s chest.

A shadow passed over Bai’s face. With a sharp crack, the wine glass shattered in his hand, blood and shards raining down.

Through gritted teeth, he growled, “Ah Ye, you’ll be mine sooner or later.”

Back at the public housing complex, Lu Zhanxing heard a knock at the door. Another delivery. He stepped out to sign for a new pan. The courier, hat pulled low over his face, murmured in a low voice, “Sir, the documents and weapons you requested are inside the pot. But the rebel lab’s location remains unknown.”

“Keep looking,” Lu Zhanxing replied, his tone steady. “And don’t let them catch on.”

With practiced ease, he took the package and brought it inside, placing it conspicuously on the living room table. The position was deliberate—any spies watching from outside the window had a clear view of the unopened box.

He left it untouched for hours, letting their curiosity simmer. By nightfall, as darkness cloaked the city, he finally made his move, carrying the package into the kitchen.

His broad frame intentionally blocked any prying eyes as he opened the pot. Inside, nestled within a cold storage container, lay a vial of Alpha suppression serum.

He stashed the serum in a cabinet, then removed the pot and its manual, setting everything out in plain sight. With meticulous care, he discarded the empty box, knowing full well that the spies would rummage through the trash.

Sure enough, the watchers reluctantly began their grim task. Last time, one of them had accidentally touched used toilet paper during such a search—a trauma they hadn’t yet overcome. Muttering curses under their breath, they resolved to demand a raise from Bai.

Meanwhile, Lu Zhanxing sat back down, casually flipping through the pot’s instruction manual. Only he knew the “manual” had been replaced with Boss Bai’s dossier.

Suddenly, his eyes sharpened. Rising abruptly, he stared at a photo buried within the pages—a snapshot of Bai at a rebel arms deal.

His lips curled into a grim smile. “The trail ends at last,” he muttered. “So Bai’s the one hiding it.”

The photograph revealed crates of vials and a sleek bio-capsule handed over to Boss Bai by the rebels. The capsule, all transparent glass and sinister design, cradled a girl submerged in liquid—a face disturbingly familiar. A closer look revealed why: she bore a striking resemblance to Shao Ye, almost a six or seven-tenths match to his features.

Though Shao Ye had never laid out the exact details of the job Boss Bai had roped him into, Lu Zhanxing wasn’t blind. The man’s hesitations spoke volumes: weapon manufacturing, no doubt, was at the heart of it.

Boss Bai—he carried the guise of a rags-to-riches billionaire from the slums, but Lu Zhanxing knew better. Men like him didn’t stop at money. No, what Bai really craved was power, the kind that bends knees and crushes wills.

The Alliance had caught wind of his shadow games, sniffing out his dealings with rebels and space pirates. He wasn’t just arming them; he was supplying them with “test subjects,” cementing himself as a key player in their war machine.

Lu Zhanxing didn’t flinch, didn’t let his pulse betray him. He flipped his console into smart-screen mode and muttered, low and sharp, “The target’s already in Boss Bai’s hands. Get me the exact location—fast.”

Message sent. Time checked. Shao Ye’s shift was almost up. Sliding his gear out of sight, Lu Zhanxing switched gears, prepping to cook one of his newly-learned dishes.

*

Boss Bai stood at the edge of his floor-to-ceiling window, eyes riveted on the workshop below. Shao Ye was there, methodical and engrossed in assembling a mech, his uniform taut across his shoulders.

A smile, sly and knowing, curled at the corner of Bai’s lips. “Bring him to my office,” he ordered the guard behind him, voice smooth as silk.

Moments later, Shao Ye entered, his expression cautious but polite. “You called for me, Boss?”

“Come in, take a seat,” Bai said, tone light, deceptively casual.

Shao Ye hesitated, glancing at the clock. Almost quitting time. If he didn’t check in with Lu-ge soon, the man would start worrying.

Bai caught the hesitation and smirked, a teasing lilt to his voice. “What’s the matter? Need me to carry you in?”

The jab forced Shao Ye’s hand. Lips pressed thin, he stepped in and perched on the sofa, every move deliberate. Yet something about Bai’s presence gnawed at him today—a sharp, visceral sense of danger that made sweat bead at his temples.

“You’re sweating,” Bai observed, voice soft but loaded. He handed over a handkerchief with unnerving calm.

Shao Ye took it, dabbing at his face and neck. “I’ve been working on the mech all day. It’s nothing.”

But Bai snatched the handkerchief back, bringing it to his nose. He inhaled deeply, closing his eyes as if savoring fine wine.

Shao Ye froze, throat tight.

Bai tucked the handkerchief into his breast pocket like a trophy, his smile all charm and menace. “It’s the end of your shift. If you’re hot, why not shed the uniform?”

The suggestion hung in the air, dripping with implications Shao Ye wasn’t about to entertain. He stayed rooted, muscles coiled.

Bai chuckled suddenly, the sound sharp and cutting. “Ah, I see. You’re worried I might do something unsavory. Is that it, Shao Ye?”

The question cut deeper than it should have. Fear sparked in Shao Ye’s chest, a whisper that Bai might have uncovered his Omega identity. He forced composure. “Boss Bai, don’t be ridiculous. Why would I fear you? You’re no monster.”

Bai’s smile thinned into a blade. “Good. Fear is such an ugly thing between colleagues.” He stepped closer, his hand landing heavy on Shao Ye’s shoulder. “But then, it’s only natural for an Omega to flinch under an Alpha’s shadow, isn’t it?”

The words hit like a gunshot. Shao Ye’s eyes widened. “Boss Bai, you—”

“You want to know how I found out?” Bai sneered, pulling out his smart-screen. He tilted it toward Shao Ye, displaying an Alliance bounty notice. “I’ve known for a while. You’re a remarkable Omega, Shao Ye. Exceptional, even.”

Shao Ye’s stomach churned. This wasn’t praise; it was strategy. The job, the protection—it had all been part of Bai’s game.

“So, what now?” Shao Ye asked, voice steady but guarded. “You planning to turn me in?”

Bai’s expression faltered before resetting into its usual smirk. “I’d never harm you, Shao Ye. The ship captain eyeing your bounty? Handled. Consider it... a gesture of goodwill.”

“Oh, should I thank you then?” Shao Ye’s tone had turned cold, calm, cutting. “I’ll repay the debt, Boss Bai. For now, I’m going home. My wife is waiting.”

The deliberate use of “wife” sent a flicker of anger across Bai’s face. He blocked Shao Ye’s exit, voice dropping an octave. “Shao Ye, don’t delude yourself. An Alpha and an Omega—that’s nature’s law. Without an Alpha, your heat will destroy you. That Beta of yours? He can’t give you what you need.”

Shao Ye didn’t flinch. He brushed Bai’s hand away, steel in his gaze. “Lu-ge and I don’t need nature’s blessing to be happy. Mind your business, Boss Bai.”

Bai’s jaw tightened, veins pulsing. Then, he inhaled, forcing a devilish grin as his information pheromones poured into the room like a wave of nightshade.

The scent hit Shao Ye like a freight train, flooding his senses. Heat pooled beneath his skin, his strength sapping. He collapsed onto the sofa, fighting to stay conscious as Bai loomed closer, the air thick with dominance and intent.

This was the raw power of an Alpha’s pheromones—crippling, suffocating, absolute.

Shao Ye’s vision swam, the room closing in. Terror clawed at his chest. This... this is what submission feels like.

So scary, so desperate...