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Afterward, I let my gaze drift around the room, taking in the usual details: the books stacked carelessly on the chair, the jacket flung over the back of it, the scattered papers near the desk. Then my eyes catch on the cabinet.

His knife collection.

Now there’s an idea.

I rise soundlessly from the bed and cross the room. Ilya remains asleep, one hand now half-curled where my thigh had been at the edge of the mattress.

I crouch by the cabinet and open it slowly.

The blades inside catch the light in thin silver lines. I know enough about him by now to recognize that the arrangement isn’t random. He keeps favorites in specific places and uses some more often than others.

And then there is this one. His favorite. I recognize it by the pink handle. I take it, then sit on the edge of the mattress again. My fingers slide once more into his hair, brushing it back from his forehead.

“My prince,” I whisper. “You really should lock your windows.”

I consider kissing him properly.

Very seriously.

The temptation is severe enough that I have to close my eyes and breathe through it. If he wakes with my mouth on his in the middle of the night, one of us will end up bleeding, and while I do enjoy his knives as a category, I’d rather not get one in the throat before I fuck him. Then maybe I can die in peace.

So instead, I press a kiss to the top of his head.

I reach into my pockets and pull out the candies I brought with me. I set them carefully on his bed beside the pillow. Then I rise, move back to the window, and slip out into the night with his favorite blade hidden inside my jacket and a grin I can’t be bothered to suppress.

My prince is going to be so mad.

Ilya

I wake up in a terrible mood. First, there are candies on my pillow. I stare at them for a full minute, trying to identify the only person I associate with leaving sweets, but the one who comes to mind is Kento. No. Obviously not. He couldn’t have been here. Maybe I put them there and forgot. I’m usually buried in sugar anyway. That’s it. Mystery solved.

The candies aren’t what put me in a foul mood, though. That honor belongs to Alya, who strolls into the house early in the morning with her lips smudged and a smug little glow clinging to her face. It took every ounce of self-control I possessed not to start punching walls. Fortunately, Alexei called not long after and got me the hell out of there.

Now he is throwing five men at my feet like he’s dropping groceries.

Bruised, zip-tied, gagged, dragged halfway across the world for the crime of making Marco unhappy.

I look down at the collection of trembling idiots on the warehouse floor and then over at Alexei, who’s already moved into the far corner. I’m pretty sure this crazy fucker had them escorted all the way from Italy just because they bullied his boyfriend like… I don’t know, five years ago?

Talk about being petty.

The warehouse is blessedly empty except for us and the pathetic sounds of fear leaking out of these men in little bursts. I think one of them is trying to pray through the gag.

I crouch in front of the nearest one, tap the tip of my blade against his cheek, and smile.

“Hi.”

He makes a terrified noise behind the gag, his eyes already glassy, sweat gathering at his temples. “Good news. You’re helping me with science.”

His eyes widen as I continue. “Bad news…” I unzip my case. The metal teeth scrape through the quiet. “…you might die.”

He shakes his head frantically. The zip ties creak as he tries to crawl backward.

“Oh, don’t be dramatic. I haven’t even started.”

I’m usually the one they call when someone needs answers beaten out of people, which is flattering, honestly. I’ve built quite the reputation. The trick is not getting lazy. Same method every time? Boring. I like experimenting, switching things up, seeing what makes people crack. You have to keep things interesting. Torture is still work, after all. Might as well enjoy the fucking job.

This time, though, I don’t have to make anyone talk. I just have to make them regret touching Alexei’s boyfriend, so I have free rein to do whatever I want to them.