The apprehended guy appeared dreadful: his hair was disheveled, blood mixed with mucus dripped from his nose, and tears streamed from his light eyes. Dasse felt a pang in his heart involuntarily, especially since the young man hardly resembled a ferocious criminal.

— He dishonored my brother... now his fiancé wants to leave him! — the guy suddenly wailed, choking on his tears, — it's all because of him!

— Calm down! — Dasse snapped at the sobbing youth, dragging him into the interrogation room. With one hand, he threw him into a soft armchair, and with the other, quickly turned on the radio for a loud broadcast:

— Runour!

The loud announcement proved unnecessary as the cousin burst into the room:

— The northern part of the house is completely overwhelmed by scents! It's as if a perfume shop exploded in there! The guys are already investigating, and the guests are utterly confused... — He suddenly stopped talking, staring at the guy sitting in the armchair.

— A perfume shop? — Dasse exclaimed in surprise, casting a sharp glance at the frightened would-be saboteur. — Could it be your doing?

Such a tactic was unheard of for Dasse. It was ingenious: instead of eliminating a scent for stealth, one could amplify it a hundredfold, causing the enemy not only to overlook it but also to become disoriented. The guy squirmed, his eyes downcast, continuing to sob.

— Why did you tie him up? —  Runour suddenly asked, his eyes glinting with such malice that Dasse was momentarily taken aback. However, his confusion quickly turned to indignation:

— Why?! And the attempted assault on the second son of the Rutias family — isn't that reason enough for you?!

— No one is going to assault him! He's just sitting in his office, depressed! — Runour retorted sharply, then unexpectedly softened his tone towards the guy in the chair. — Poor, it's alright. No one will hurt you. Tell us what happened. And I'll get you some tea and cookies...

The guy in the armchair and Dasse stared at Runour in amazement. Cookies?! Has he gone crazy?!

— With raisins. And we also have cranberries, — Runour continued to speak as if nothing had happened, moving to the far wall, where there were shelves with long—term storage products. He put a white electric kettle on the counter and clicked the switch loudly. Dasse always suspected that there was something wrong with his own head, but not with his cousin...

— Uh, thanks, I guess, — the guy in the armchair suddenly mumbled awkwardly, wiping his broken nose with a sniff, — I didn't mean to... I mean, I didn't...

The guy trembled slightly, as if finally realizing the predicament he was in.

Dasse's nostrils detected a faint, elusive scent reminiscent of either kerosene or diesel fuel. He turned his head, peering out the window, pondering who could have spilled it. Could it be Runour’s boys? Meanwhile, Runour soaked a towel with cold water and gently applied it to the bruised nose of the guy, calming him down. Carefully, he untied his hands, assisting him in quelling the slight tremor. Dasse could only stare in silent amazement, momentarily forgetting the peculiar odor.

— Thanks...  The guy muttered awkwardly again, and Runour smiled weakly, embarrassed.

— Why the fuck is he embarrassed?! — Dasse thought, observing this strange picture. Meanwhile, the guy in the chair suddenly remembered the proprieties and, obviously worried, introduced himself:

— I... m-my name is Jon. Y-yes, I... my dad was a chemist, and my father... well, me too... and that... — and he lowered his eyes, apparently finally ashamed of his behavior, — my brother... went to a bachelor party before the wedding at a club... and there this... then the groom found out his brother about this, and!…

The guy bellowed incoherently, making it increasingly difficult to discern his words.

— Yes-yes, our second son of the Rutias family is quite a lecher, — Runour remarked softly, stroking Jon's head to calm him down. — Did you come here on your brother's instructions or on your own initiative?

Dasse stood leaning on the countertop and with each phrase was stunned by his brother, the newly—minted psychologist of the snotty omegas. And then we need to have a separate conversation with this Jon about his "explosive perfumery".…

— I... came on my own, — Jon declared confidently, gripping the cold towel tightly, — I feel ashamed for my brother. Such fury directed... and I... I truly wish for my brother to be happy, to bring joy to our parents, as for me, I will never marry...

The brothers stared at the young omega with evident surprise. Meanwhile, Jon's cheeks burned with embarrassment, and he awkwardly mumbled:

— Well, you can feel... there's no explosion here... well, my real smell. As you can see, so I never…

— So you really don't have anyone? — Runour interrupted impatiently, forcing himself to stay in place so as not to inadvertently frighten omega with his pressure, — Then will you go out with me?