It took nearly a week before Josh was reunited with the team.
In the meantime, he spent time with his family, went shopping for Pete, and made various preparations for his new job.
The house, which he hadn’t visited in a long time, was in complete disarray. As if waiting for him to return, everyone suddenly needed things fixed. He spent days hammering, repairing, and patching things up. On top of that, he mowed the overgrown lawn, trimmed tree branches, bickered lightly with Emma, and chased away a few stray coyotes. Before he knew it, his short break was over.
Despite spending all day together, when the time came to leave Pete behind, his heart ached. As always, his son clung to his leg, sobbing, unwilling to let go.
"Daddy, Daddy."
Josh picked him up, his chest tight with emotions. As he patted Pete’s back, the boy hiccupped.
In the past, they had always been separated for just a few hours—he’d leave in the morning and return at night. But this time, it was different. Depending on the work schedule, he might not see Pete for over ten days.
The thought of not knowing when they’d see each other again made it nearly impossible for Josh to step away. He ended up holding his son, rocking him, for nearly thirty minutes.
"Josh, you’re going to be late. You have to go."
His mother held out her hands.
Josh swallowed hard and forced himself to accept reality.
With one last, firm hug, he reluctantly handed Pete over.
The boy immediately started screaming, flailing in his grandmother’s arms.
Josh turned away, quickly getting into the car and driving off before he lost his composure completely.
His heart ached so much that it felt like he might cry.
"Yeah, that’s the hardest thing in the world."
By the time he met up with the others for breakfast, Mark nodded in understanding.
He was already a father of three.
"Luckily, my eldest is old enough now. But when they were babies, God, it was impossible to leave. Janet had it the hardest."
Since their job often required them to be away for months, the struggles of fatherhood were an easy topic to bond over.
Isaac and Henry, both still unmarried, simply focused on their pancakes without much reaction. Even Seth, who had been living with his long-time partner, didn’t seem particularly engaged.
"Coffee, please. Thanks."
Josh only ordered a drink since he had already eaten.
The waitress flashed a bright smile, then disappeared for a moment before returning with a handful of cheap creamers.
After giving Josh a subtle, knowing glance, she walked away.
Henry snorted.
"Put a damn ring on, you con artist."
Josh only chuckled, shaking his head.
Isaac, drowning his pancakes in syrup, took a big bite before speaking up.
"Alright, let’s talk about the job now."
All eyes immediately turned to Mark.
He glanced around the restaurant.
It was past breakfast rush hour, so the place was nearly empty. The staff were gathered at the far end, deep in conversation.
Satisfied, Mark leaned in and began.
"The tip came in about a month ago. A warning about C getting K’d."
C was Chase. K meant kidnapping.
These were their private abbreviations—used whenever a client was too famous or security had to be kept airtight.
There was no doubt Chase C. Miller was a high-profile target.
The reason they used C to refer to him wasn’t just because it was the first letter of his name.
It also stood for Crazy.
"The FBI’s investigating, but they’ve got no solid leads. No clue who the informant is, either. There are a few suspects, but..."
"Is it someone with a grudge?"
Isaac cut in.
Immediately, Henry scoffed at him.
"You idiot, do you even use that head of yours? If it were a grudge, how the hell would they narrow it down? Every single person who knows that bastard probably wants him dead."
That was true.
Chase Miller was the kind of man who made people resent him just by existing.
And if you had the misfortune of actually speaking to him, that resentment could turn into pure murderous intent.
No one at the table disagreed.
Even Josh simply sipped his coffee in silence.
Isaac, though still sulking, didn’t argue.
Henry’s foul mouth was something they’d all learned to endure over the years.
Mark cleared his throat before continuing.
"The most likely culprits are either some religious cult, a major crime syndicate, or crazed fans. Or maybe all of the above."
Cults were notorious for their insanity. Fanatics pulling something like this wouldn’t be surprising either.
But the mention of organized crime was odd.
"Why would a crime syndicate be involved?"
Seth asked before Josh could.
Mark smirked.
"Why else? Money."
Their first thought was Chase’s massive earnings or the immense wealth of the Miller family.
But Mark’s next words were unexpected.
"Do you guys have any idea how much an Extreme Alpha’s sperm is worth?"
"...His what?"
Josh blurted out.
Mark turned to him with a nod.
"Yeah. Everybody wants an Extreme Alpha’s child."
A shiver ran down Josh’s spine.
Pete’s face flashed through his mind.
Quickly, he lifted his coffee cup, hoping to hide his expression.
Mark continued, unaware of Josh’s turmoil.
"If you get your hands on an Extreme Alpha’s sperm, you could set up your entire bloodline for generations. Now, C’s genes? That’s worth a goddamn fortune."
"But Extreme Alphas can control conception, right? Even if you force them, they wouldn’t be able to impregnate someone."
Seth pointed out.
Mark nodded.
"Exactly. That’s why it’s so valuable."
"Still, how would they even get it?"
Josh’s voice came out almost mechanical.
Mark smirked.
"You all know what happens when an Extreme Alpha can’t release pheromones for too long, don’t you?"
"They lose their minds."
Josh replied instantly.
Mark nodded.
"All they have to do is lock him up for a few days. An unhinged Extreme Alpha wouldn’t be able to control anything."
A heavy silence fell over the table.
Extreme Alpha pheromones were the very reason they held such power. But if those same pheromones built up inside them, they became toxic—turning on their own bodies.
To prevent this, they constantly released pheromones into the air, leaving behind their distinct, intoxicating scent.
But that was only a temporary fix.
The ultimate and simplest solution was sex.
It was the perfect excuse for their endless indulgence.
For them, sleeping with multiple partners wasn’t just about pleasure—it was about survival.
Every one of them had seen Extreme Alphas in wild, chaotic orgies.
The memory alone was enough to make them grimace in disgust.
Even Josh wasn’t immune.
"At least C doesn’t throw parties at his own house."
Seth muttered.
Before anyone could agree, Henry scoffed.
"That was years ago. You worked for him for what? Three months? What the hell do you know?"
The mood turned somber.
Unlike most celebrities, Chase’s scandals weren’t tied to extravagant parties or affairs.
During the months Josh had worked as his bodyguard, Chase had been completely inactive.
Then came his rut.
And everything had spiraled out of control.
Josh clenched his jaw.
If Chase had been regularly releasing his pheromones back then... Pete wouldn’t exist.
The thought left him feeling strangely unsettled.
How had Chase been living since then?
Josh had gone out of his way to avoid hearing news about him.
But now, he’d be watching Chase twenty-four hours a day.
And suddenly, he was dying to know.
Had he changed?
Or was he still the same?
The image of Chase in that airplane commercial resurfaced.
If nothing else, that face hadn’t changed.
"Forget the orgies. His temper’s the real problem."
Henry growled.
At that, everyone lost their appetite.
They all sat in silence, finishing their coffee.
Then, wordlessly, they stood and left.
And soon, they would finally see him again.
The Mansion
The estate where Chase C. Miller lived was nestled deep within an exclusive country club, perched on a cliffside overlooking the ocean. A long staircase led from the terrace down to the private beach below. Every inch of the surrounding land belonged solely to Chase.
There were no other houses nearby—just the sound of the waves rolling in, steady and rhythmic.
"Welcome. We've been expecting you."
The previous security team visibly relaxed as soon as they saw Josh’s group approaching.
"We were all supposed to be off-duty by now, but the dates kept getting pushed back. We were starting to get anxious. There’s only so much we can handle..."
Extreme Alpha security was usually handled by Gammas. Unlike Betas or Alphas—who were susceptible to transformation due to prolonged exposure to powerful pheromones—Gammas were naturally immune.
However, even they weren’t entirely unaffected. Since their bodies still absorbed pheromones through skin contact, they required regular detox injections or extended vacations to reset their system.
Apparently, this time, something had gone wrong with that system.
"One of our guys quit outright."
The team leader’s troubled expression said it all.
Mark sighed knowingly.
"Finding a replacement must’ve been tough. Gammas are the rarest."
"That’s part of it. But the bigger issue is... you know what happens if we do transform."
Gammas who mutated into another secondary gender either died or had their lifespans drastically shortened. It was an occupational hazard they all accepted.
The team leader exhaled heavily.
"Worst case scenario, even if they don’t find a new team in time, we’ll be back in six months. Just hold things down until then."
Josh’s team had taken on Chase’s security detail once before, under nearly identical circumstances.
Back then, a Gamma had succumbed to transformation, forcing the entire team to take an emergency leave. That gap in security had led to Josh and the others being temporarily assigned to Chase.
This time didn’t feel much different.
Would they really find a replacement within three months?
Judging by everyone’s expressions, they all had the same doubt.
Mark spoke first.
"So we should consider this a six-month job at most, right? We need to be sure."
"Yes... there won’t be any extensions. Probably."
Even as he said it, the team leader didn’t sound convinced.
As they followed him through the property, everyone kept their eyes moving, scanning their surroundings.
They mentally mapped out potential hiding spots, blind corners, and possible intrusion points.
Josh caught the gaze of a woman from the departing security team.
She offered a small nod before turning back to her conversation with a colleague.
Their exhaustion and impatience were obvious.
No one here wanted to stay a second longer than necessary.
Ah.
A faint, sweet scent brushed against Josh’s nose.
From the way his teammates stiffened, he wasn’t the only one who noticed.
The Gamma team leader remained unaffected, but everyone else reacted.
"Shit."
Isaac cursed softly.
Mark, a Beta, and Josh, an Omega in disguise, weren’t as affected.
But the others—who were all Alphas—looked distinctly irritated.
"Josh, you good?"
Isaac frowned, watching him closely.
Josh forced a calm nod.
"Yeah. Just nerves."
Did I take my suppressants?
His thoughts blurred for a moment.
The reason Josh had been able to keep his identity hidden for so long was simple: his pheromone signature was faint.
Alphas barely registered his presence, and he wasn’t affected by theirs.
After being marked, his sensitivity had dulled even further.
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As long as he kept his heat cycle under control, there were no issues.
But that only applied to ordinary Alphas.
Not to the man who had marked him.
"You’re mine. All of you."
For the first time, Josh truly understood what those words had meant.
The man who had said them had likely forgotten all about it.
And yet, with just a lingering trace of his scent, he still had the power to turn Josh inside out.
If this was the effect from mere remnants of Chase’s pheromones...
Once they started working closely together, Josh would need double—no, triple the usual dose of suppressants.
Because of that damned mark, he was at least three times more sensitive to Chase’s pheromones than anyone else.
He had known this, of course.
But not to this extent.
Josh barely suppressed his dizziness and kept moving.
The team leader suddenly held something out to them.
"These are the candies we take. They help dilute the pheromones building up in your system. I suggest you use them."
Everyone reached out and grabbed a piece.
Josh took three and shoved them into his mouth at once.
The others watched in mild horror.
"Shit, that’s spicy—"
The team leader tried to warn him, but it was too late.
A sharp, stinging sensation exploded across Josh’s tongue.
For a moment, his entire body jolted awake.
Tears pricked at his eyes.
He coughed violently.
Henry clucked his tongue.
"What the hell are you doing?"
Isaac, walking beside him, looked concerned.
"You okay?"
Josh nodded weakly, even as his mouth burned.
At least it had done the trick—his head was clear again.
They were still scanning the mansion when the radio crackled.
The team leader answered, listening briefly before turning to them.
"Miller’s arriving soon. Let’s go."
Their pace quickened.
Finally, the moment was here.
They were going to see him.
Josh’s heart pounded, and it wasn’t just from walking.
Would Chase remember him?
Had he changed?
Or was he still the same?
Crossing the vast garden, they reached the iron gates just as they groaned open.
A sleek black sedan rolled in.
Josh swallowed dryly.
The car suddenly came to an abrupt stop.
Everyone tensed.
They quickly moved closer, trying to assess the situation.
The reason became clear seconds later.
"Paparazzi."
Mark muttered.
Josh’s steps faltered.
The driver’s door opened.
And then—
A golden-haired man slowly emerged.
Ah.
For a split second, time stopped.
Josh’s breath hitched.
It lasted only a few seconds, but it felt like eternity.
The first thing that caught his eye was blue.
A piercing, ice-cold shade—somewhere between sky and ocean.
And behind it stood him.
Josh had never imagined someone wearing a suit in that color.
Yet somehow, Chase pulled it off.
If anything, the thought crossed his mind—
Maybe I should try wearing one, too.
The sleek golden hair, the long, elegant limbs, the sharp yet effortlessly poised expression—
With skin so pale he could’ve looked angelic.
But instead of innocence, he exuded a quiet, predatory danger.
It was the eyes.
Cold.
Vacant.
Chase swept his gaze around, pausing momentarily on Josh before moving on.
Josh knew it was meaningless.
But for some reason, he still felt disappointed.
Chase sighed, running a hand through his tousled hair.
That was when Josh noticed the cigarette between his lips.
With a languid motion, Chase lifted it to take a drag—
But the cigarette slipped from his fingers.
His gaze dropped.
A moment later, his violet eyes narrowed.
"Miller—"
The old security team leader started to speak.
Click.
The sharp, rapid shutter of a camera.
Chase’s lips curved into a slow, dangerous smile.
Josh’s stomach dropped.
Chase moved.
His body fluid, graceful.
Unbothered by anything but his target.
His hand slipped into his jacket.
And when it reappeared—
Josh immediately recognized the Desert Eagle.
"Move, you idiot!"
Mark shouted.
Too late.
BANG!
Josh barely saw the flash before a scream tore through the air.
The paparazzo stumbled back, clutching his shattered camera.
Blood.
Shards of broken glass.
And Chase, standing there—
Expression cold.
Gun still raised.
The Mad Dog of the Miller Family.
And Josh realized, with eerie certainty—
Chase hadn’t changed one bit.