- N
I stared at the words, dissatisfied with their brevity, their coldness. With uncharacteristic hesitation, I added:I'll be back soon. You're safe here.
My fingers lingered on the paper for a moment before I placed it atop the folded clothes. The addition was unnecessary, perhaps even revealing too much, but I couldn't bring myself to cross it out.
The sun had fully risen now, bathing the room in warm light that caught the auburn highlights in Mishka's dark hair. In sleep, the wariness that seemed etched into his features had eased, revealing the young man beneath the hardened exterior.
How old was he really? Not just in years—I'd learned that chronological age meant little—but in experience, in suffering. What had he endured before stumbling into my restaurant, bleeding and desperate?
A message alert from my secure line pulled me from my thoughts. Duty called. The outside world wouldn't wait while I stood watching a beautiful man sleep.
I moved toward the door, my footsteps deliberately heavier than normal. Part of me hoped he would wake, that I would see his eyes open, clear and sharp with awareness. That I could speak to him, gauge his reaction to last night before leaving him alone in my private sanctuary.
But Mishka didn't stir, and I had a syndicate to run, enemies to monitor, and now, something precious to protect.
With one last look at his sleeping form, I stepped into the hallway and closed the door quietly behind me. My bear rumbled its displeasure at the separation, but I silenced it with a promise.
Soon, we would return. And then we would get answers about exactly what kind of power resided in the young man who had so unexpectedly worked his way under my skin.
I entered my office expecting to find Yuri with his usual morning report. Instead, my entire inner circle had assembled—Yuri looking more grim than usual, Dima unusually still in the corner, Zev with arms crossed by the window, and my three department heads occupying the remaining chairs.
The air felt thick with tension, and my bear stirred restlessly beneath my skin, sensing trouble before anyone spoke a word.Whatever had brought them all here unannounced couldn't be good.
"The O'Rourke Syndicate has made their move," Yuri announced without preamble, sliding a manila folder across my desk. No greeting, no deference to my position. That alone told me how serious the situation was.
I opened the folder, revealing half a dozen surveillance photos taken at various locations around the city. O'Rourke's standard muscle was present in each, but they weren't what caught my attention. New faces. Professional. Dangerous.
"They've brought in specialists," Yuri continued, his voice tight. "They know exactly what the boy can do and they're calling in favors across the city."
I studied each photo carefully, my jaw clenching as I recognized several faces. Not common criminals or hired thugs, but men with connections to government agencies. Ex-military, former intelligence, the kind of people who wouldn't be on O'Rourke's payroll unless something extremely valuable was at stake.
Someone like Mishka.
"This one," I tapped a photo showing a lean man with close-cropped silver hair, "worked black ops for the Agency until three years ago. And this one," my finger moved to another image, "specializes in retrieving 'assets' for the highest bidder."
My bear growled internally. These weren't just hunters. They were extractors, people who specialized in capturing and containing their targets alive—usually for interrogation or exploitation.
"And that's not all," Dima added, his voice uncharacteristically serious as he stepped forward from his corner. "Someone accessed our secure servers during last night's... disruption."
The implication hung heavy in the air. I felt the weight of their collective gaze, the unspoken question. Could Mishka have been gathering intelligence while I was distracted?
My shoulders tensed involuntarily, a low growl building in my chest before I could suppress it. The reaction was instinctual and revealing. I saw Zev and Yuri exchange a look.
"You think the boy did this deliberately," I stated flatly, not bothering to phrase it as a question.
No one immediately responded. That was answer enough.
"What exactly do we know about him, Nicolai?" Zev finally asked, his voice careful but insistent. "He appears out of nowhere, bleeding and desperate. Then our systems are compromised during an... incident... that coincides with you taking him to your private quarters."
The muscles in my jaw worked as I controlled my response. The logical part of me—the syndicate leader who had survived for a century through caution and calculation—could acknowledge their concerns. The timing was suspicious. The boy's abilities were extraordinary and potentially dangerous.
But my bear knew better. It had recognized something in Mishka from the moment he'd stumbled into my restaurant, something that went beyond physical attraction or curiosity. My bear had claimed him as ours to protect, and it had never been wrong about a person's character.
"The server access and the electronic disruption were two separate events," I said, my voice steady despite the anger simmering beneath. "The disruption was an uncontrolled release of Mishka's ability, not a calculated attack."
"How can you be certain?" one of my department heads ventured, immediately shrinking back when I fixed him with a hard stare.
"Because I was there," I replied coldly. "The boy can't control it fully when... emotionally overwhelmed."
