Kirill and Bobby walk in together.
For a second, the whole café seems to tilt. Kirill looks exactly like he always does—devastatingly handsome and a little scary too. Bobby is beside him, looking alert but calm. Their eyes find me almost immediately.
My heart does a wild flip, relief crashing into shock and then into a rush of complicated feelings I still haven’t sorted out.
Skeet follows my gaze and lets out a quiet “Ohhh…” under his breath.
Bobby gives me a small, knowing smile and immediately takes Skeet’s arm. “Come on, Skeet. Let’s go order something at the counter. I want to try that fancy matcha thing I’m guessing you know all about.”
Skeet catches on fast, shooting me a supportive wink as he lets Bobby steer him away. “Sure! Gossip can wait.”
Suddenly, it’s just Kirill and me.
He walks over and stops beside the table, his presence filling the small space in that commanding way that always makes my stomach flutter. Up close, I can see the faint tension in his jaw and the shadows under his eyes. He looks tired, but still impossibly steady and commanding.
“Teddy,” he says, voice low and calm. “My boy.”
I swallow hard, setting my spoon down. “I’m… really relieved to see you. I was worried. Pissed too. But we do need to talk. No excuses this time. We need to lay it all out… everything.”
Kirill nods without hesitation. “Agreed. But let’s go for a walk. Somewhere quieter. Somewhere we can move freely and avoid any over eager ears.”
Kirill offers his hand. I take it, and the moment our fingers touch, that familiar spark races up my arm…
He’s Daddy.
We leave the café together, crossing the street and stepping into the small park opposite. The moment we’re on the grass, Kirill’s hand tightens around mine, guiding me gently but possessively along the winding path.
I feel it instantly, that surge of safety. Protected. Like nothing in the world can touch me while he’s holding my hand. His grip is warm and strong, his stride confident. For a few beautiful seconds, I let myself sink into the feeling. This is what being with Kirill does to me. He makes me feel small and cherished and shielded from everything scary.
But it’s not that simple.
As we walk deeper into the park, surrounded by trees and the distant sound of children playing, I squeeze his hand and find my voice.
“I don’t know if I want to know more about your business life,” I admit, the words tumbling out. “Part of me is terrified of what I might hear. But at the same time… things can’t carry on like this. The silence, the secrets, the way you disappear and I’m left wondering if you’re even okay. I can’t keep doing that.”
Kirill slows our pace, his thumb brushing over the back of my hand.
“I know,” he says quietly. “And I understand. There are two Littles in similar situations… boys who are with men like me. It might help you to meet them. To talk openly, without me there if you prefer. They can give you a clearer picture of what this life really means.”
I look up at him, surprised by how thoughtful the offer is. “Yeah,” I whisper. “That could work. Thank you… for not trying to force me into any quick decisions. That means a lot.”
Kirill stops walking and turns to face me fully. His free hand comes up to cup my cheek, thumb stroking gently. “I would never dream of forcing you, my darling little one. Your safety and your happiness are the only priorities that matter to me.”
The sincerity in his voice makes my chest tighten.
Before I can overthink it, I rise onto my toes and press my lips to his. Kirill meets me halfway, kissing me slow and deep, one arm sliding around my waist to pull me closer. For a moment the world narrows to just us—his warmth, his strength, the way he kisses like he’s claiming every part of me.
Then the sharp crack of a gunshot splits the air.
A bullet whizzes past us, close enough that I feel the air displace near my ear.
I scream in pure terror as panic fills the park.
Kirill reacts instantly. His arm tightens around me like iron as he spins us, shielding my body with his own while pushing me forward.
“Run!” he roars, voice sharp and commanding.
Kirill guides me quickly across the grass toward a small wooden maintenance hut. Another shot rings out, this one hitting the ground somewhere behind us and sending up a spray of dirt. My heart is hammering so hard I can barely breathe. Fear claws at my throat, but Kirill’s steady grip and calm authority keep me moving.
