By Zephyria 
Chrissy suppressed his excitement and calmly re-examined the documents. As expected, the graphs were difficult to decipher, so he skipped them quickly. After reading and re-reading the written text, he found a few facts he could be certain of.
The Miller family had higher pheromone levels than typical Dominant Alphas. Because of this, they required strict management, and so far, everything had been proceeding smoothly—with one exception.
It was unprecedented for Nathaniel Miller’s pheromones to accumulate and remain unmanaged to this extent, and immediate action was required. If he were not in a situation where he could actively release the pheromones, medication could be used, but the former was strongly recommended. If circumstances forced the use of medication, the following prescription should be followed.
Below that, more than ten unfamiliar names and dosages, presumably for medication, were listed. After confirming that, Chrissy quickly organized his thoughts. ‘Actively releasing pheromones’ probably referred to sex. Like the party he had seen last time…
Thinking that far, Chrissy unconsciously frowned. A wave of disgust toward pheromone parties surged, making him feel momentarily nauseous, but he ignored it and continued thinking. Nathaniel had clearly been handling his pheromones at those disgusting parties. The actions he had witnessed then seemed more like mechanical pheromone discharge than sex, but since that was the goal anyway, it didn’t matter. Regardless, according to this report, Nathaniel had not had any sex—let alone attended those parties—for several months, and if this continued, there was no telling what kind of mishap might occur.
There was no way he wouldn’t know that, so why…
A question flickered in his mind, but he quickly brushed it aside. What did it matter? Whether that bastard went crazy and died or not. He tried to burn my eyes, tried to rape me, and now he’s even fed me dog food.
He should be grateful I don’t kill him with my own hands.
Chrissy coldly severed his emotions and immersed himself in thought again. A Dominant Alpha’s rut. Memory loss. That wasn’t all. Other details were written in the documents.
‘Dominant Alphas fall into a deep sleep for at least one day, and sometimes longer, following a rut.’
He likely already knew this, so the reason it was written was probably just as a routine warning. The document concluded by noting that falling into a sleep after a rut could interfere with daily life, urging caution against sudden ruts and advising constant, proper pheromone management to prevent such mishaps.
What Chrissy focused on was the part about ‘deep sleep after a rut.’ Unlike ordinary sleep, this was clearly a state close to unconsciousness.
If he could make that happen…
While Nathaniel was unconscious, he would be able to check his phone. There would surely be many secrets hidden there. He could also buy time to find Andrew’s file…
The problem was how to trigger a rut. Chrissy was a Beta. If he were an Omega, he might have been able to seduce him with the scent of pheromones, but that was currently impossible.
“Sigh.”
He thought about it several times, but there was only one conclusion. That was the only way Chrissy could trigger a rut in Nathaniel with his own power. He focused on the section listing the problems that occurred when a rut hit. Chrissy’s gaze stopped at this sentence:
‘Currently, there is a very high possibility of triggering a rut during pheromone discharge, so caution is advised.’
For a while, he remained motionless, his eyes fixed on those words. Right now, Nathaniel Miller was like a very thin, fragile piece of glass. Even the smallest stimulus would surely trigger a rut, leaving him in a defenseless state, unable to react. It could be through sexual arousal, a shock to the brain, or anything else. As long as he could make Nathaniel that way, the advantage would absolutely be on Chrissy’s side. Even if he triggered a rut and turned him into a sex-crazed monster, so what? He could offer his body as much as needed. As long as he could get the result.
So, he had no choice.
Having made up his mind, he immediately left the study, locked the door, and returned the key to its place. Then, he tidied up the house he had messed up, restoring it to its original state, and prepared to welcome Nathaniel.
Wearing Nathaniel’s shirt was entirely intentional. Last time, Nathaniel had put his own shirt on Chrissy. And he had blatantly enjoyed it. Recalling that memory, Chrissy chose the thinnest and softest white shirt from those hanging and slipped it on. He didn’t forget to leave two buttons open on purpose. His legs had to be exposed. Specifically, showing his ankles was important.
Because that perverted bastard, unfortunately, seemed to be very fond of my ankles.
Chrissy looked at himself in the full-length mirror, shifting his gaze to his ankles. No matter how he looked at them, they were just ordinary ankles; he wondered what was so great about them. Then again, how could he understand the mind of a pervert?
He quickly dismissed the thought and moved on to the next preparation. Before diving in with his body, he planned to try another tactic first. If this succeeded, he wouldn’t have to throw himself at Nathaniel.
Had a man over two meters tall ever been attacked on the head?
Chrissy was certain that he would never look up. That’s why he hid on the stair landing, and the plan was partially successful.
If the plan had succeeded in knocking Nathaniel unconscious, he wouldn’t have needed Plan B. However, it failed miserably, and he had to use the alternative he had prepared. It was unfortunate that he actually injured the leg he had intended to ‘pretend’ was hurt, but since the result was the same, it didn’t matter.
With his aching ankle draped over the edge of the bathtub, Chrissy sat quietly, doing as he was told. Unlike himself, who was naked in the water, Nathaniel was impeccably dressed in a white shirt and tie. Just as the sapphire embedded in the tie pin suddenly felt cold, a wet sponge touched his leg.
As he shifted his gaze stealthily, he felt as though the front of Nathaniel’s trousers was pulled tighter than before. It was bizarre that while his face remained expressionless and his complexion was somewhat pale with fatigue, just that one spot was so full of life. Internally, Chrissy felt a sense of self-loathing, thinking about what pathetic animals men were. Since he himself had sought partners at clubs when exhausted and stressed by work, he was in no position to criticize Nathaniel.
The important thing was that this man had been starving for quite a few months.
Moreover, since his pheromone levels were higher than others of the same trait, it was almost impressive that he was managing to act normal. If I said I wanted it, would he give in immediately? A sudden thought led to a question.
Why is this man holding back?
He had even dressed in the outfit the man liked, yet despite being that aroused, what was with these dry, clinical hands? He could have touched his leg with some personal desire, but he didn’t. To act so politely, with a business-like attitude devoid of any emotion, as if he were the greatest gentleman in the world.
“Why are you looking at me with that face?”
Nathaniel asked suddenly. Chrissy flinched for a moment, then frowned and replied.
“I was just thinking that I cannot understand you as a person at all.”
Treating him like a dog in the morning and like a king at night. Perhaps his mind had gone haywire because of the accumulated pheromones. As he indulged in this leap of imagination, Nathaniel let out a short laugh and spoke.
“It seems we finally have something in common.”
Ignoring Chrissy, who looked at him with confusion, he continued speaking while rubbing the calf with the sponge.
“I don’t understand myself at all, either.”
At the words that sounded somewhat self-deprecating, Chrissy simply blinked. As he stared at him, hoping for a more detailed explanation, Nathaniel spoke again, slowly stroking the ankle exposed above the water’s surface with the sponge.
“I want to ruin you completely, yet I also feel like I want to cherish you dearly. I want to hurt you, but I don’t like the idea of anyone else hurting you.”
With his hand holding the sponge remaining on the ankle, Nathaniel gazed at Chrissy. Their eyes met in the air. In the sudden silence, he whispered.
“I wonder why?”
Chrissy blinked in bewilderment. Why on earth is this man asking me that?