"What are you doing here?" I frowned, reaching for my pants draped over the chair beside the bed.
"I told you—clearly—we have business Sunday morning," Clyde said evenly.
"And I told you just as clearly—I have plans."
Clyde's gaze shifted to Nick.
Something cold flickered in his eyes.
Volkin flinched.
…So did I.
"Out," Silius said quietly, his stare boring straight through Nick.
Nick glanced at me, tense. I gave him a short nod. Silius was already pissed about my defiance—I wasn't about to let Nick get dragged into it too.
Still, Volkin didn't move right away.
"Nick, it's fine," I said, forcing my voice steady. "I'll call you later."
Nick shot Silius a dark look, then finally headed for the door. Reluctantly.
The moment he was gone, I turned back.
"So? What now?"
"Lately, your behavior has been… excessive," Silius said calmly. "It reflects poorly on me."
"I haven't done a damn thing that concerns you. And I never asked for your protection. You're the one who decided to turn me into your lapdog."
"First Hwon. Now Volkin." His voice didn't rise—but it sharpened. "Planning to work your way through every Special in the academy?"
"Shut up. Who I sleep with—or don't—is none of your business."
"I've already told you. Your behavior reflects on me."
"Oh, give me a break." I let out a sharp laugh. "You dragged your pristine elite ass through the mud the moment you handed me that badge. Funny how your reputation didn't matter then."
"So," Silius went on, ignoring me like I hadn't spoken at all, "you don't even care who you sleep with. You could at least choose someone with influence."
"Go to hell. I haven't slept with anyone. Satisfied?"
"Really?" He raised a brow, mockery plain as day. "The facts suggest otherwise. We have a meeting in twenty minutes. Get dressed."
"With who?"
"Someone important."
His tone stayed level—cold, controlled.
I exhaled slowly, forcing myself to cool down. Arguing with him like this was useless.
I got dressed quickly, and we left the cheap hotel.
We didn't speak—not in the taxi, not on the way, not when we stopped in front of a spa.
I stared at the sign.
"You're serious? You dragged me here for a massage?" I raised an eyebrow.
Then again… why was I surprised? Silius had a talent for dragging me into pointless shit.
Still—this was new.
"I told you. We have a meeting."
"Here?" I gestured at the place.
"Yes."
I followed him inside without another word, waiting while he spoke with the receptionist.
The place screamed money.
Even in my past life, I hadn't set foot anywhere like this.
"Come on," Clyde called while I was still staring at the price list.
"Hello, Marta," Silius said.
A young woman lay stretched out on a massage table, a therapist working oil into her smooth, gleaming skin.
She lifted herself up—
—and my gaze immediately snagged on her chest.
Full. Firm. Impossible to ignore.
"Leave us," she said to the masseuse.
She took the robe and slipped it on slowly.
Deliberately.
Almost like she knew exactly what she was doing.
"Like what you see?" Clyde asked dryly.
"Sorry," I muttered, snapping out of it and looking away.
Women didn't do anything for me.
But even I wasn't blind.
Silius hadn't spared her a glance.
He was watching me.
And he didn't look pleased.
"I don't mind, Clyde," the woman laughed lightly. "Let him look." Her gaze shifted to me. "And this is…?"
"Marta, this is Alan Holivan. Alan—Marta Kowalski. Administration. Seer Oversight."
"Hello," I said with a slight nod, still not meeting her eyes.
"Oh?" She tilted her head, studying me. "He looks harmless enough. I heard the younger Holivan is a real pain in the ass."
"He is," Silius said. "Just not the way people expect."
"So you're the one who stirred things up—joined the Special class and rattled the aristocracy?" she asked, curious. Then her lips curved. "Or are you just an idiot?"
"Ma'am, I don't know what's going on at the top," I said flatly. "And I don't really care. I joined the Special class because I have the power to be here."
"That's a mistake," she said lightly. "It's useful to know how things move up there."
"We'll get to that later," Silius cut in. "Did you bring what I asked for?"
"Yes." She nodded toward a small couch.
A thin yellow envelope lay there.
"Latest data?"
"Yes. Everyone from the aristocracy—and a few wealthy families—who's shown signs of power. At least, everyone I could dig up."
"Good."
He didn't move to pick it up.
"Anything else?" she asked.
"Yes. A personal favor." He tilted his head toward me. "I want you to check him."
She huffed, shook her head, and slid off the table.
Marta walked toward me slowly.
Her gaze lingered on the scar across my face.
"Such a pretty face… and such an ugly scar," she sighed.
Her hand came up—resting lightly against my cheek.
For a second, I didn't understand what was happening.
Then it clicked.
I tried to step back—
—but her grip snapped around my wrist.
And yanked me forward.
Hard.
Way too strong for someone who looked like that.
"The hell—?!" I snapped—
—and the world twisted.
Smoke curled around us.
My memories—unraveling.
Rewinding.
"No—" I jerked, trying to pull away, but the haze thickened.
There I was.
At the bar.
Already drunk.
"Alan, you're drunk," Nick's voice came through—tight, worried.
"Oh, leave him alone, Volkin!" Robert slurred. "Let him drink! He's earned it!"
"Yeah!" I heard myself snap, grabbing another glass. "I've earned it!"
"See what training—and Silius—did to him," Robert laughed.
"Silius?" I echoed, coughing on the burn of whiskey. "That lunatic—I don't even want to hear his name—"
"That's enough!" I snapped in the present, wrenching against her grip. "Stop. You didn't warn me about this!"
"Tsk." Silius pressed a finger to my lips. "I want to see what happens next."
"What the—"
He pushed harder.
Shutting me up.
Heat crawled up my neck.
I had no choice but to watch.
My drunk self—trying to prove something.
That I wasn't weak.
That I could keep up with Robert.
Nick stayed close the whole time—catching me whenever I nearly fell.
I even saw it—
that flicker of relief on his face—
when I finally passed out.
Then—
he was carrying me.
Careful.
Like I might break.
Laying me down on the bed.
Pulling off my clothes.
Lying beside me.
His hand brushed my cheek.
Gentle.
Then he leaned in—
kissed me.
Soft.
Quick.
And pulled back.
"Alan… do you have any idea how much self-control this is taking?" he murmured.
His fingers traced my cheek once more.
Then he turned away.
"Speed it up," Clyde said.
The rest of the night blurred.
Fast.
Until—
morning.
The moment I stepped into the bathroom.
"That's enough," Silius said.
The smoke vanished.
"You're actually pretty fun when you're drunk," Marta laughed. "Clyde… was that a loyalty test?"
"It was a test to see whether he's dragging my reputation through the dirt," I said sharply, disgust cutting through my voice. "Being under someone's protection is fucking disgusting."
I threw the words at him.
He didn't even react.
"Thank you, Marta," Silius said calmly. "Next time, Storik will come instead. Bring your bodyguard. And Peter."
"Planning to lift the curtain for a newcomer?" she asked.
"I want him to understand I'm not playing games," Silius said. "See you."
He raised a hand in farewell and headed for the exit.
I followed.
Swallowing down the bitter, burning anger sitting in my throat.