He turned slowly to face me, his back pressed against the door frame. "Would you believe I just remembered a dental appointment?"
I couldn't help but smile at that. It was small, barely there, but the first genuine one I'd given in quite some time.
This unexpected intruder with the ability to make phones dance across desks had somehow managed to awaken both my protective instincts and desires that had lain dormant for decades.
How very inconvenient… and how very intriguing.
Before I could explore the strange pull this young intruder had on me, heavy footsteps thundered down the hallway. Not the measured steps of my security team—these were impatient, aggressive, the sound of men who thought their urgency trumped everyone else's rules.
I pivoted slightly, positioning myself between the desk and the door without making it obvious. My bear, usually content to observe human interactions with disinterest, suddenly surged with protective fury.
Mine. Protect. Hide him.
The door flew open without so much as a knock. Territorial violation number two of the evening, and this one far less appealing than the first.
Two men burst into my office—the same ones my maître d' had mentioned. One was weasel-faced with nicotine-stained fingers, the other built like his neck and shoulders had mergedsometime in adolescence and never bothered to separate. Both wore cheap suits that strained at the seams and expressions that suggested thinking wasn't their primary skill set.
O'Rourke really needed to upgrade his hiring standards.
"You Aleksandrovich?" the neck-optional one demanded, his eyes darting around my office before settling on me.
A century of dealing with disrespectful intrusions had taught me the value of silence. I simply stared at him, letting the weight of my gaze do the work. Men like these—they'd fill any silence with increasingly nervous chatter.
"We're looking for someone," he continued, shifting his weight. "Young guy, blond hair, green eyes. Skinny. Ran in here about a few minutes ago."
I remained perfectly still, my expression a blank canvas of indifference. Behind me, I could hear the quickened breathing of the young man they sought. His scent spiked with fear, which made my bear growl internally.
"We know he's here," Weasel-face added, stepping forward with more confidence than wisdom. "He belongs to Mr. O'Rourke. Stole something valuable."
At that, I finally spoke, my voice low and controlled. "In my establishment, nothing 'belongs' to Patty O'Rourke."
The way I said O'Rourke's name—like I was discussing something I'd scraped off the bottom of my shoe—didn't go unnoticed.
Both men stiffened.
"Look, we don't want trouble," Neck-optional said, his tough-guy act already cracking. "We just need to collect our property and go."
"Property," I repeated, letting the word hang in the air between us.
I took a single step forward, and both men instinctively stepped back. Good. At least their survival instincts were functioning, even if their manners weren't.
"Let me clarify something for you," I said, squaring my shoulders slightly. I didn't need to try to look intimidating—six-foot-five and built like a brick wall tends to do that naturally. "This is my territory. Everything within these walls falls under my protection."
Territorial violation has never looked so... appealing.
The thought slipped through my mind as I thought of the young man behind me. My bear rumbled in agreement, the possessive heat growing stronger. This was new territory for me—feeling protective over someone I'd just met, someone who had broken into my private space.
Sorry boys, finders keepers.
"Mr. O'Rourke won't be happy about this," Weasel-face warned, though his voice lacked conviction.
"Mr. O'Rourke's happiness has never been a concern of mine," I replied, my accent growing thicker with my rising irritation. "What does concern me is uninvited guests barging into my private office, interrupting my evening, and making demands as if they had any authority here."
I took another deliberate step forward, forcing them back toward the doorway. My security team had materialized behind them, Ivan and Sergei's imposing frames filling the hallway. I hadn't called them—they simply knew to appear when unwelcome visitors overstayed their welcome.
Efficient.
That's why I paid them so well.
