The rain poured relentlessly, drowning the city in a cold, suffocating silence. In a penthouse high above the streets, Nickolai stood by the window, a cigarette burning between his fingers. The glow of the ember flickered in the darkness, a mere distraction from the storm raging outside and the one brewing inside him.
His expression remained unreadable, but the tension in his jaw betrayed him. He had been patient. He had given Ilior everything ,a shelter, protection, a life without worry. And yet, Ilior ran. And that was the thing he can't understand.
A muscle ticked in his cheek as he exhaled, the smoke curling around him like a ghostly reminder of the warmth that used to be in his bed. Reminiscing those steamy nights with Ilior tangled on his sheets. Just the thought of it gives him a boner.
"Sir, we found a lead," a voice interrupted his thoughts. His right-hand man, Lucien, stood by the doorway, cautious. He knew better than to speak when Nickolai was like this restless, dangerous.
Nickolai turned his head slightly, the movement slow and deliberate. "Where?"
Lucien hesitated. "We're still verifying, but…" He swallowed. "There's been movement. Someone fitting Ilior's description was seen at a clinic outside the city. He—"
Nickolai's fingers tightened around the glass he was holding, and with a sharp crack, it shattered in his grip. Blood dripped down his wrist, mixing with the remains of his drink. He barely blinked.
"A clinic?"
Lucien nodded carefully. "Yes. A maternity clinic."
Silence. Thick. Oppressive. The air in the room seemed to drop several degrees.
Nickolai's lips curled, not in a smile, but something far more terrifying. A realization dawned on him, slow and dark, spreading like ink in water.
Ilior wasn't just running.
He was hiding something.
Nickolai chuckled, a deep, humorless sound that sent a chill down Lucien's spine. He took his time wiping the blood from his palm, his movements unbothered, controlled.
"Find him," he murmured, voice almost gentle. "And bring him back."
Lucien hesitated. "And if he resists?"
Nickolai's gaze lifted, sharp and merciless. "Then make him remember who he belongs to."