Somewhere in the deeper corridors of the estate, silence stretched like a blade.
A soft knock tapped on the heavy wooden door of Nikolai's private study. He sat at his desk in a loose, black silk shirt, sleeves lazily rolled to the elbows. Pale morning light spilled through half-drawn curtains, dancing over papers, charts, and unfinished reports.
Without looking up, he murmured, "Enter."
Alexei stepped in and bowed low.
"Boss… the boy has been captured."
Nikolai's pen paused mid-stroke. He blinked once, then slowly set it down.
"Ashley?"
"Yes," Alexei confirmed. "Kelly succeeded last night. He's been sedated and transferred to one of the holding rooms. Alive and… mostly intact."
"Any casualties?"
Alexei hesitated. "The bar caught fire. We're still compiling damage reports. Two civilians were seen with him — a boy and a girl — but our team didn't engage them. They escaped during the evacuation."
Nikolai leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled. His voice dropped cold.
"Keep it that way. I don't need extra names getting tangled in this."
"Understood."
"Assign him to the Debt Recovery Unit," Nikolai continued. "Let him get used to the system. No special treatment. But watch him. Closely."
Victor gave a short bow. "Yes, Boss."
**************
Something warm ghosted along his cheek.
Fingers.
At first, Ashley thought it was part of a dream—the type that clings like mist and fades before it's fully formed. But the sensation didn't stop. It moved—slowly—up to his temple, then gently down the slope of his nose, as if someone were studying his face like a canvas.
He groaned quietly, eyes still closed, trying to ignore the intrusion.
But the touch returned—featherlight strokes across his brow, down to his jawline, pausing at the line of his lips.
A breath, soft and amused, brushed close to his face.
"You're even prettier in real life," a voice whispered.
His lashes fluttered open.
The first thing he saw was a pair of emerald eyes, staring at him with an expression caught between fascination and mischief. They were too close—so close their noses nearly touched. Whoever it was had crouched beside his bed, their face half-shadowed by the soft lighting, red hair falling slightly over one brow.
Ashley blinked slowly. His body still felt sluggish, heavy from the drug. There was a dull ache in his limbs and a tightness in his throat, but the haze was lifting.
"…Who are you?" he asked, voice low and slightly hoarse.
The stranger didn't flinch at his tone. Instead, they smiled. "Hmm… rude. I introduce myself later. Right now, I'm just the person who watched you sleep for thirty minutes straight."
Ash tried to sit up, but the motion made his body twinge sharply. He winced.
"Easy," the other murmured, their hand pressing gently on his shoulder to keep him steady. "They said the sedative was strong. You'll feel weak for a while."
Ashley's gaze sharpened slightly, his expression slipping back into quiet defense. "Why are you here?"
"Curiosity," the person answered with a smile on his face.
The stranger stood slowly, the emerald eyes still fixed on him. "Get some rest. They'll probably assign you work soon."
And just like that, they turned and disappeared behind the door.
****************
As the stranger finally stepped out and the door clicked shut, silence returned like a thick fog.
Ash stayed still for a moment, his eyes fixed on the ceiling, the food he hadn't touch still at the table. With a quiet sigh, he shifted and sat up slowly, rolling his neck with a soft crack.
His limbs still ached faintly but he was steady. He stretched his arms lazily, letting the tightness in his muscles loosen bit by bit. As he moved, strands of blonde hair fell into his eyes and he pushed them back with an annoyed flick.
Just then, the door creaked open again.
Ash didn't bother looking. "You again?" he muttered dryly, thinking the stranger had returned.
But the moment the footsteps echoed differently — sharper — his gaze shifted.
It was her.
The woman from the bar.
Ash's expression didn't change, but his body tensed. His jaw tightened slightly, and he averted his gaze again, uninterested.
She stood by the door, arms crossed, holding a folded bundle of clothes — darkjogging and a white shirt. She didn't say anything right away. She simply tossed them on the bed beside him.
Ash stared at them, then at her, his brows twitching upward slightly.
"…The fuck is this?"
Her lips curled into the slightest smirk. "Uniform," she said simply, like it explained everything.
She glanced at the untouched food on the table. "Still haven't eaten?" she asked.
Ash gave her a blank, tired look " how could I eat when I was asleep?" then turned his head toward the wall again, clearly not in the mood.
She gave a dry chuckle, stepping back. "You've got five minutes. Dress up and meet me outside."
She turned toward the hallway — but just as she stepped through the door frame, she paused.
"…You can call me miss Kelly."
And with that, she was gone again.
As the door clicked shut behind her, silence filled the room again.
Suddenly—
"Grrrrrrr…"
Ash blinked.
He slowly looked down at his stomach like it had personally betrayed him.
"Oh God," he muttered under his breath "I'm starving."
His eyes shifted to the tray of food on the side table. Then back to his stomach.
He sighed in surrender. "…Fine."
Sliding off the bed with a quiet groan, he made his way to the table. The food wasn't fancy nor warm — something simple: rice, vegetables, and water. He ate.
Once finished, Ash moved toward the small sink in the corner of the room. It wasn't much — just a basic wash area — but he cupped some water in his palms and splashed his face. The cold helped. He ran a hand through his blonde hair, pushing it back and smoothing it into place. His reflection in the mirror was tired, but steady.
" I'll be fine," he murmured
He grabbed the uniform from the bed and slipped into the shirt and jogging . They fit well.Probably expected.
Whatever.
With one final glance around the room, he walked to the door, unlocked it, and stepped out.
Kelly was leaning casually against the wall opposite the door, arms crossed, looking like she'd been waiting.
Her eyes flicked to him the moment he appeared.
"Let's go," she said coolly.
Ash said nothing. He simply followed.
*************
Ash followed a few steps behind Kelly as they moved through a dim hallway lit with soft industrial lights. The air was quiet, save for the soft sound of their footsteps echoing on the floor.
She walked ahead with confidence, her back straight, her hair swaying slightly with each step. Ash kept his hands in his pockets, eyes lazily scanning the walls and corners, absorbing details quietly.
Kelly had been peeking at him from the side every few seconds, clearly trying not to make it obvious — but failing miserably.
Finally, she sighed and slowed just a bit.
"You're not going to ask me anything?" she blurted without turning around. "Like... where you are, who I am, why you're even here? Nothing?"
Ash blinked once. "Was I supposed to?"
He tilted his head slightly. "Aren't you the one who's supposed to be doing the talking?"
Kelly stopped mid-step.
She turned slowly, staring at him like he'd just slapped her with sarcasm.
"You're insufferable," she muttered.
Ash gave a lazy shrug. "I've been told worse."
Kelly narrowed her eyes, ready to snap, but then — her gaze dropped to his lips. A very... specific memory flashed in her head.
Her cheeks twitched.
Nope. No, no. Abort.
She quickly looked away, biting the inside of her cheek.
God, those lips—
She shook her head like she was trying to delete a corrupted file.
Professional. You are a professional, Kelly.
"…You're in the Volk Dvoyka Mafia compound ," she said, finally regaining her voice. "Happy now?"
Ash just stared at her blankly. "Sure. Super happy."