Page 117 of Nocturne

The said article barely contained any information. Other than an observation about the sudden drop in the crime rate at that time and an assumption that rival mobs seemed to have forged a pact, there was nothing. Yes, the reporter wrote about the ramifications of such an alliance—how it could reshape powerand control—but there were no details about the people involved or what exactly it was.

A few words were mentioned here and there, vague enough to be prompts for a database. But I couldn’t venture into the dark web. I don’t know it, and when I asked Div, his warnings were enough to send jitters and shivers down my spine. Sothat’sout of the question.

My only option was Yuri, the man who had become my silent shadow, and from trying to sneak information from Eero, he was one of the higher-ups. I’m hoping he has the information I want.

Other than the brief questions about where I’d like to go while he drives my car, he doesn’t talk much. I suppose a man like Zagan—who has an aversion to talking—must also have an aversion to people who yap, and it would make sense for him to hire people or train them to shut up.

Huh.

All Idois yap. I wonder how sick he is of the constant drill of my voice. Perhaps that’s the reason he’s stopped coming to my classes. Apart from him finding it boring—which anyone other than my students would—he must be done with the way I go on and on about the subject.

It shouldn’t send the stab into my heart like it does now. I’ve vowed not to let anything he does affect me. Tying myself emotionally would not bode well for me. The thought feels like a delicate thread—one I’m constantly pulling at, unravelling more than I can handle.

Missing him isn’t an option, but understanding him—understanding who he is and what keeps him in the shadows—is something I can chase with a vengeance. It is a distraction, at least, from the ache I refuse to name.

Despite myself, I unlock my phone as I wait for my coffee. My fingers hover over the text box for a few seconds before I give in and type the message.

Ara:

I’m fully capable of going out on a walk, myself.

The reply comes almost instantly.

Mr Devlin:

Bodyguard

Ara:

Glad to know that you’re alive.

I want to kick myself as soon as I hit send. But I wait.

Mr Devlin:

Miss me, little siren?

Despite myself, a blush coats my cheeks. And it takes more effort than needed to squash the smile that comes alive under his teasing.

Ara:

Not even a little, Mr Devlin.

Mr Devlin:

So the only time you say my name is when I make you cum? Interesting.

I think I turn crimson at his crass words. My finger fly on the keyboard, the stupid smile not leaving my foolish face. I brush off the heart-palpitating words.

Ara:

You don’t need to trouble Yuri with trivial nonsense. I’m sure he must have bigger things to do than babysit me all day.

Mr Devlin:

Ok.

Ara:

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