Something colder

Lucas didn't often linger when he had somewhere to be.

He'd learned long ago that hesitation was dangerous—on the street, in a boardroom, in any place where power shifted hands like currency.

But standing in the bedroom doorway, adjusting the cuffs of his charcoal jacket, he let himself watch Bella for just a moment longer.

She was sitting cross-legged on the bed, folding one of Rachel's tiny dresses into a neat square, while the little troublemaker was taking her beauty nap. Her hair had fallen over her cheek, hiding the soft curve of her mouth.

He didn't know when it had started—this ache in his chest every time he looked at her.

He only knew it made leaving harder than it used to be.

His phone buzzed on the dresser. He picked it up, glancing at the screen.

Mark: Everything's ready. Waiting for your orders.

He slipped the phone into his pocket and let out a slow breath. Time to go.

"Bella."

She looked up quickly, as though she hadn't realized he was still there. Something flickered across her face—surprise, maybe a touch of disappointment.

"You're leaving now?" she asked softly.

He nodded. "I have that meeting, I told you about earlier."

"Oh."

He hesitated. In the past, he wouldn't have bothered explaining himself. There had never been anyone waiting on him to come home.

But she was here. And so was Rachel.

"I'll be back earlier tonight and then we will leave for dinner directly," he said, his voice quieter. "If you need anything—"

"I know." Her smile didn't quite reach her eyes. "I'll call."

For a moment, he almost closed the distance between them—almost cupped her face in his hands the way he'd wanted to in the kitchen earlier.

Instead, he reached out and tucked her hair gently behind her ear.

"Lock the doors," he murmured, softer still.

She nodded. "Be careful."

He didn't answer—he'd learned that promising safety was the same as tempting fate.

Lucas forced himself to step back, to turn away before he said something he couldn't take back.

He moved into the hall, his steps steady even as something in his chest pulled taut.

---

The garage was cool and dim when he descended the stairs.

His black sedan waited in the far corner, gleaming like an animal crouched in the dark.

He popped the trunk and lifted a small hidden panel beneath the spare tire. The matte steel of the pistol glinted in the low light.

He wrapped his hand around the grip—familiar, necessary—and slid it into the holster at the small of his back.

Just in case.

By the time he slipped behind the wheel, his expression had smoothed into something neutral, almost cold.

He started the engine.

As the car rolled out onto the street, he allowed himself one last look in the rearview mirror, the house growing smaller behind him.

It shouldn't have mattered.

He'd built an entire life on the premise that nothing did.

But as he merged onto the main road, he felt it again—that quiet, stubborn thought he couldn't seem to shake anymore.

There's something to come back to.

---

Mark was waiting outside the old warehouse near the coast. As Lucas pulled in, Mark inclined his head in greeting.

"Everything in place?" Lucas asked as he stepped out.

"Yes," Mark said. He flicked a glance at the file tucked under his arm. "And…there's something you should see. About Irina."

Lucas nodded once. His jaw tightened.

"Inside," he said simply.

And just like that, the part of him that belonged to quiet kitchens and soft smiles receded behind a locked door.

Here, he was something else.

Something colder.

Something necessary.

The warehouse smelled faintly of salt and steel. Lucas had been here too many times to count. And yet, today, something in him felt different.

Maybe it was because he'd come from folding shadows and quiet laughter. From a warm kitchen with the scent of rice and roasted garlic lingering in the air.

Now, he stood beneath flickering lights and peeling walls, and everything about this place felt colder than before.

Mark led the way through a narrow corridor to the private back room. Inside, a round table waited with files spread across the polished surface. A few of Lucas's men stood nearby—silent, alert.

"Update me," Lucas said, taking the seat at the head of the table.

Mark nodded, dropping the file in front of him and flipping it open. "We intercepted a secure call from Irina's burner this morning."

Lucas's jaw tightened. "She reached out to Renato again?"

"No. This time, she was calling a contact in Zurich."

Lucas frowned, eyes scanning the transcript. "Zurich?"

"Someone she trusts. An old friend. Female. She didn't say much—only that she 'can't take it anymore' and that she's looking for a way out. She sounded…panicked."

Lucas leaned back in the chair, steepling his fingers. "And the Don?"

Mark hesitated. "Still unaware, as far as we can tell. He's been preoccupied. His meeting in Prague ran long, and he hasn't been back in Moscow for four days."

Lucas tapped the edge of the folder. "If she's desperate enough to reach outside the network, she's losing faith in Renato."

"Or afraid she's being watched," Mark said. "Which she probably is."

Lucas nodded slowly. "We need to move carefully. No direct contact. But I want eyes on her twenty-four seven."

"I'll arrange it."

Lucas closed the file but didn't look away. "And Renato?"

"He's been silent since this morning."

Lucas didn't speak for a moment. His thoughts drifted—not toward danger or alliances—but to the girl who had laughed when he called her soft.

To the child who'd wrapped her arms around his neck and asked him not to forget her good morning kiss.

To the painting in Rachel's room.

"Boss?" Mark asked.

Lucas looked up, blinking the thoughts away. His voice, when it came, was cool and measured.

"I want a backup plan," he said. "If she runs, we get her out. No traces. No bodies. Clean."

Mark gave a short nod. "Understood."

Lucas stood, straightening his jacket.

"I'm heading back home after this."

Mark's brows lifted slightly. "Home? So soon. Won't you meet them?"

Lucas chuckled and told him, "It's clear that they haven't said anything even after your interogation. They delivered what they were ordered to."

Mark nodded and quickly wrapped his arm around Lucas's shoulders. "Then please sign some pending files before you go. That way we can have some bro to bro talk."

Lucas cringed at his words."What do you want to talk about?"

"About life." He answered dramatically emphasising every word.

"Where are the files?" Lucas quickly brushed his hands off his shoulders and walked inside the building. Mark truly hurt by his behaviour followed him back with a sulking face. "This man changed after getting married. Serious as fuck."