Page 19 of Mafia King

No gleaming lobby.

Just a plain intercom panel and a single security camera that looks at least a decade old.

Something definitely feels off.

Theo presses the buzzer for the number Nikolai gave him. The door clicks open without a voice on the other end.

Theo walks in, takes the narrow stairs two at a time, and finds the apartment on the second floor.

The door is already ajar. He pushes it open and steps inside. The place is sparsely furnished…

A plain grey couch, a low coffee table, a small kitchenette with nothing on the counters. No photographs. No personal clutter. No scent of the cologne he caught on Nikolai the last time they met.

This is not a home. It is a shell. A temporary space someone uses when they do not want to be found.

Theo files the observation away without letting it show on his face.

Nikolai stands near the small kitchen counter, already pouring clear liquid into two short glasses. He looks exactly as he did in the bar and the health club: dark shirt open at the throat, sleeves rolled once, the quiet weight of authority settled comfortably across his shoulders.

Nikolai glances up as he closes the door behind him.

“You came,” he says. Not a question.

“I did,” Theo answers. “Surprised?”

Nikolai hints at a smile then carries both glasses over and places one in Theo’s hand. The vodka is cold and strong. Theo takes a measured sip while his eyes continue to catalogue the room...

No secondary exits that he can see.

Windows that look onto a quiet side street.

The kind of place built for short meetings and clean exits.

Nikolai sets his own glass down and reaches into the inner pocket of his coat. He draws out a slim black box and opens it between them.

Platinum catches the low light.

The bracelet is simple, elegant, heavy enough to feel expensive without needing diamonds or engraving. A single continuous band of polished metal that would sit flush against the skin.

Theo’s breath stills for a second.

“I can’t accept that,” he says, even as his fingers twitch with the urge to touch it.

Nikolai’s mouth curves, not quite a smile.

“You can. And you will.” Nikolai steps closer. “I know you want to be mine, Theo. This is only the beginning of what that means.”

The words land low in his stomach.

Intimidation and heat twist together so tightly Theo cannot separate them. He should push back.

He should keep distance.

Instead he stays still as he takes his left wrist and slides the cool metal around it. The clasp clicks shut with a soft, final sound.

Electricity sparks where Nikolai’s fingers brush his pulse point. They stand close enough that he can feel the heat of his body. Nikolai leans in and kisses him… brief, controlled, the kind of kiss that claims without asking permission.

The taste of vodka and something darker moves between them for three heartbeats before he pulls back. Theo’s head swims. Blood rushes loud in his ears. The warning from his contact still echoes somewhere behind his thoughts: