Content Warning

This chapter contains references to surveillance and implied pursuit. Reader discretion is advised.

Damien had not been caught, but he had made a mistake —one very small mistake. So small that, in another context, it might have gone unnoticed even by someone like him.

It was not an impulsive decision, nor a direct lack of foresight. It was, rather, a delegation. A minimal gesture of misplaced trust. Damien had not been following Noah with his own eyes for days due to matters related to his work at Blast Corp, so he had hired a third party: an efficient, silent man, experienced enough to observe without being seen. Too experienced. Enough to believe he did not require constant supervision.

But that was the mistake. Because not everyone understood the exact rhythm —at least, not the way Damien did.

***

The night after the first date, after an intensive class that had left Noah exhausted but strangely focused, he and Nicholas walked out of the gym together. This time there was no doubt or hesitation: their hands were visibly intertwined, openly, as if both had decided they would not hide that gesture.

The street was quiet, with uneven lighting that left patches of shadow between closed businesses.

And once again, Noah’s suspicions became visible.

He was the first to notice it. Not a face or a clear silhouette, but something more unsettling —something he had sensed the day before. A rhythm of footsteps that stopped when he stopped, that advanced when he resumed walking.

This time, Noah decided to be honest with Nicholas.

“Nick,” he murmured, barely moving his lips.

His companion did not ask what was wrong. He did not turn his head immediately, nor did he squeeze Noah’s hand abruptly. His voice came out low, steady, and well trained.

“Keep walking,” he said. “Normal.”

Noah obeyed, though his breathing grew shallower. The body remembered before the mind did. Nicholas, meanwhile, quickly assessed the surroundings: side streets, almost nonexistent traffic, lighting at the intersections.

“Let’s change sides of the street,” he indicated. “Now.”

Noah obeyed, crossed without hesitation —and that reflection followed as well.

That was the mistake. A man in a black coat was following them, roughly around forty years old, wearing a face mask, his hands tucked into his pockets.

That was when Nicholas stopped abruptly and turned around.

He did not do so aggressively or defiantly. He did not raise his voice or tense his body to intimidate. He simply planted himself there.

“Can I help you?” he asked, with a calm that did not allow for superficial answers.

The man remained still for a second longer than was natural. That second was enough to give him away. He did not respond, nor did he smile. He adjusted the collar of his coat with an automatic gesture and turned halfway around, disappearing between two parked cars.

Nicholas did not follow him. He did not need to. Instead, he tightened his grip on Noah’s hand.

He turned to Noah immediately.

“Are you okay?”

Noah nodded, though his hands were cold and his pulse was racing.

“This… isn’t the first time,” he admitted, with weary honesty. “I thought I was imagining it.”

Nicholas held his gaze without blinking.

“You weren’t.”

The silence that followed was dense, but not empty.

“What do we do?” Noah asked at last.

Nicholas did not respond right away. He removed his jacket and placed it over his partner’s shoulders with a protective gesture.

“First,” he said, “I take you home..”

And Noah did not argue.

They walked in silence. Nicholas did not look back, but his posture had changed —more alert, more aware of the space he occupied. When they reached the building, he did not leave immediately.

“Can I come up?” he asked. “Just to make sure you’re okay.”

Noah nodded quickly, also glancing around.

Inside the apartment, everything seemed normal. The silence contrasted with the tension still vibrating through Noah’s body.

“Your mother?” Nicholas asked softly.

“Asleep. She usually is when I get home after training.”

Nicholas took a deep breath.

“This isn’t a coincidence,” he said. “And I’m not going to pretend it is, man.”

Noah sat down on the couch, exhausted.

“I don’t want to drag you into this. I already did with my mother, and I… I can’t…”

But Nicholas knelt in front of him, bringing himself to eye level. Still, he did not touch him yet.

“Hey,... you’re not dragging me,” he replied. “I chose to protect you, and your mother too.”

Something broke inside Noah. His heart pounded at his words, feeling safe.

“Thank you. And I hope I can introduce you to my mother soon. You’ll like her,” he whispered.

Nicholas then placed his hand firmly over Noah’s.

As for Claire, there was something about her he wanted to reveal —but he chose to keep that secret to himself.

“You’re not alone,” he repeated. “Not anymore.”

There was a pause. A shared breath. Noah lifted his gaze, and his eyes met Nicholas’s.

Suddenly, a silent question arose —one of genuine affection— as Nicholas leaned his face a little closer.

“May I…?” he asked, not finishing the sentence, tilting in just slightly.

Noah nodded slowly, understanding what he meant. He wanted the same thing.

“Yes,… I’d like that.”

And then they kissed.

It was soft, restrained, almost shy. A brush at first, as if both were learning the other’s movements. Nicholas brought a hand to Noah’s cheek carefully, and Noah responded by leaning in a little more, closing his eyes. There was no rush, no demand at all.

When they parted, their foreheads remained pressed together for one more second.

“Thank you for asking,” Noah murmured, remembering when Sebastian had kissed him without his consent.

“Always,” Nicholas replied.

***

Hours later, once informed of the mistake, Damien was watching the building from the corner of the street.

He had not anticipated this —much less Nicholas’s intervention. He had not thought they would form that kind of bond.

“Well,” he whispered, “I suppose we’re going to have to speed this up.”

He was surprised by how Nicholas had occupied the space without violence or fear. That… was new.

Damien frowned for the first time in a long while, thinking about his next move.

“Interesting.”

He pulled out his phone. The name glowed on the screen before the call was answered.

“Sebastian,” he said. “We have a problem.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line, followed by an audible sigh.

“Noah isn’t alone. Not only is his mother a problem for us,... so is Nicholas Lawson. I should have kept him in prison longer.”

On the other end, the silence broke with a low laugh.

“You said he didn’t matter,” Sebastian replied. “Now I have to figure out how to get rid of that hacker. He’s not going to walk away with what belongs to me.”

Damien smiled, but this time there was no amusement in the gesture.

“You’ll do it,” he said. “But not the way we planned.”

And Sebastian, without saying goodbye, ended the call.