Dahmer Lukas is a man of chilling precision and unparalleled intellect. As an "Enigma"—the rarest, most elusive and strongest personality type in the omegaverse—he functions more like a machine than a man. Cold, calculated, and entirely devoid of emotions, he runs a massive scientific empire with one singular focus: Project Z.

His goal is as ambitious as it is controversial: to synthesize a serum capable of pacifying the hyper-aggressive Alpha population. To complete the formula, he requires a biological sample from the world's most powerful Alphas. He has successfully harvested samples from every target—except one: Malcom Ford, the ruthless CEO of Deviloy Technology Company 

Malcom is an anomaly in his own right. Known for his cold, unyielding nature, he never releases during intercourse, keeping his genetic essence locked away. 

Dahmer orchestrates a masterfully deceptive plan: He adopts the guise of a wide-eyed, vulnerable Omega intern, and infiltrates Deviloy Technology. His objective is simple: seduce Malcom, trigger the impossible release, and secure the sperm sample for his research.

But there are two major complications:

 Malcom Ford is staunchly, aggressively uninterested in men. He views his own biological urges as a weakness to be controlled, and he is immune to the typical ploys of those trying to get close to him.

To infiltrate Malcom’s guarded inner circle, Dahmer must learn to mimic expressing emotions. He studies the art of a smile, the mechanics of a genuine laugh, and the physical act of crying. But as he performs these human behaviors to manipulate Malcom, something begins to shift. The more Dahmer acts, the more his own cold, Enigma logic begins to fray.

Dahmer Lukas set out to dissect Malcom Ford, but as the lines between deception and desire blur, he realizes he is the one being dismantled. Can a man who has never felt love survive the fire of an S-tier Alpha who refuses to be tamed?

In the pristine, high-protocol restrooms of the Dwentreen Hotel,  Marcus stood before the wide, gold-rimmed mirror, his hands tightly gripping the edges of the porcelain sink. His knuckles were chalk-white, the skin stretched taut over his joints. His breathing was shallow, ragged, and completely uncoordinated. For the last ten minutes, he had been staring blankly at his own reflection, his amber eyes bloodshot and dark with a deep, systemic exhaustion. The sheer, suffocating pressure of the ballroom—compounded by the sudden, terrifying arrival of Alpha Beron—had pushed his nerves to an absolute breaking point. But beneath the corporate stress, it was the phantom ache in his lower pelvis that truly humiliated him. Every time he shifted his weight on the hard marble floor, his muscles flired with a dull, localized heat—a brutal, physical reminder of the total biological vandalism he had endured on the leather armchair at the Northwood Retreat.


Chapter 105 - Subdued Again