There were many things Lex’s employees would never let him live down.

The gala incident was, without question, their favorite.

It had started as an ordinary evening.

Lex stood in the middle of a crowded ballroom, dressed impeccably, listening to a senator discuss a proposal that had already lost his interest ten minutes ago. His omega mate had excused herself to the bathroom, leaving him alone for all of five minutes.

Apparently, that was all the time it took for trouble to find him.

Another omega had approached him.

At first, Lex barely noticed. He was accustomed to people seeking his attention at these events. Investors wanted favors, politicians wanted funding, and omegas occasionally tried to catch the interest of a wealthy alpha.

This one, however, was particularly bold.

She lingered beside him, standing a little too close. Her attention kept drifting toward his neck, and she subtly leaned closer, taking in the scent of an alpha whose presence practically dominated the space around him.

Lex remained focused on the senator.

He didn’t notice the other omega’s increasingly obvious interest.

He didn’t notice her moving closer.

And he certainly didn’t notice his mate returning from the bathroom.

Not until someone grabbed the other omega by the hair.

The next few seconds became a blur of expensive fabric, startled guests, and a very undignified sound as the woman was slammed onto the ballroom floor.

A sharp hiss cut through the surrounding music.

The entire area went silent.

Lex finally turned his head.

His mate stood over the unfortunate omega, her grip still tangled in the woman’s hair. Her posture was rigid, her scent practically bristling with territorial fury.

Then she looked at him.

Not at the senator.

Not at the woman on the floor.

Him.

The expression on her face suggested that Lex Luthor, billionaire, corporate genius, and self-proclaimed master of every situation, was about to become the evening’s second casualty.

For once in his life, Lex had absolutely nothing clever to say.

“Sweetheart.”

Her glare sharpened.

Lex glanced at the omega on the floor, then back at his mate.

“I didn’t notice.”

That, as it turned out, was the wrong thing to say.

He learned this when she released the woman’s hair, straightened, and continued glaring at him as though she was reconsidering the entire concept of having an alpha.

Lex immediately moved closer to his mate.

“I’m looking at you now.”

Somehow, that made things worse.

Security escorted the other omega away before the situation could deteriorate further. The senator abruptly remembered an urgent appointment elsewhere, and the surrounding guests developed a sudden fascination with their champagne glasses.

Lex spent the remainder of the evening keeping his mate close and paying considerably more attention to the people approaching him.

The incident should have ended there.

Unfortunately, LexCorp employees had excellent memories and absolutely no respect for their employer’s dignity.

By the following morning, the story had spread throughout the company.

Depending on who told it, Lex had been completely oblivious to an omega practically climbing into his lap, his mate had crossed the ballroom like an assassin, or the unfortunate woman had been launched so violently that someone claimed the floor had cracked.

None of those details were entirely accurate.

That didn’t stop anyone.

Afterward, Lex became noticeably more attentive at public events. He noticed people approaching. He noticed when someone stood too close. He even began interrupting conversations whenever an unfamiliar omega lingered near his personal space.

His chief of staff eventually asked whether he wanted additional security for future galas.

Lex stared at him.

“No.”

A pause.

“Just make sure nobody approaches me without my noticing.”

His chief of staff nodded with the solemnity of a man who would remember this conversation for the rest of his career.

And somewhere behind Lex’s back, someone had already named the new precautionary procedure.

The Gala Incident Protocol