Page 57 of Mafia King

18

THEO

The side salon is quieter than the main lounge, separated by a wide archway and a partial screen of dark wood. Tall windows look out over the docks where cranes stand idle against the evening sky. Soft lamps cast warm pools of light across low tables and deep chairs.

Theo sits opposite Milo, a glass of sparkling water untouched in front of him, still feeling the residual adrenaline of the past two days settle into something almost like calm.

Milo studies Theo with open, intelligent eyes for a moment, then smiles. “You’re a Little, aren’t you?”

“I am. You too?”

Milo’s smile widens.

“Yup,” Milo says. “I kinda guessed after I saw you in the toy department with Nikolai the other day. The way you looked at the stuffies was a giveaway.”

A soft laugh escapes Theo before he can stop it. The memory of that afternoon—Nikolai patient and open-minded beside him, the grey rabbit and the blue dinosaur—feels strangely distant and precious at the same time.

“I didn’t think anyone noticed.”

“Maxim notices everything,” Milo says, “and then he tells me the parts he thinks I’ll find interesting.” He leans back slightly, the movement graceful and unhurried. “You’re wondering what it’s like. Living with a man like him.”

Theo nods. The question has been sitting in his chest since the moment he watched the easy, grounded way Milo and Maxim occupied the same space.

Milo’s expression softens, but there is steel underneath… “It’s everything to me. Yes, it’s dangerous. There are nights I don’t sleep until he walks back through the door, and mornings I check the street from the window before I let myself believe the quiet is real. But I would never change it. He sees all of me… the good and the less good… and he never asks me to be smaller than I am. That kind of safety is worth the risk.”

Theo absorbs the words in silence. When he finally speaks, the truth comes out more raw than he intended.

“After I was discharged from the military,” Theo begins, “I felt completely alone. No one understood the way my head worked, or the things I was capable of. Becoming a hacker and a spy gave me purpose. It paid well. It kept me sharp. But underneath all of it, what I really wanted was to feel loved and protected. With Nikolai… I feel that. Even after everything that happened. Especially after everything that happened.”

Milo’s gaze is steady and kind. “You and Nikolai sound like a great couple already. The way he looks at you when he thinks no one is watching, it’s the same way Maxim looks at me.”

The observation lands warmly. Theo feels a small, private smile form.

“Having a Pakhan for a Daddy is… intense,” Theo says, happy to say it out loud.

Milo laughs under his breath. “Tell me about it. The rules, the expectations, the way they both manage to be terrifying and ridiculously soft in the same five-minute span. I wouldn’t trade it either.”

Quickly, they fall into an easy, conspiratorial banter after that. Comparing the particular brand of dominance that comes with men who run entire criminal empires, the unexpected gentleness that surfaces when the doors are closed, the strange comfort of knowing the same hands that can end a life can also pour hot milk and choose the perfect stuffie.

For a short while the danger outside the room feels almost abstract.

The moment ends when Nikolai and Maxim appear in the archway, Xander a respectful distance behind them. Both men carry the focused energy of decisions already made…

“It’s time to go,” Nikolai says.

Theo rises at once. He turns back to Milo, the connection still new but already real.

“I’d love to hang out again. Properly,” Theo says. “When things are quieter.”

Milo’s smile is immediate. “I’d like that too.” He looks to Maxim. “Is that cool?”

Maxim’s expression remains serious, but he gives a single nod. “Yes. Once the current business is handled. There is serious work to finish first.”

The two boys step toward each other and share a brief, firm hug. Theo catches the faint, clean scent of Milo’s cologne and the solid reassurance of another young guy who understands exactly how precarious and precious this life can be.

As Theo pulls back, a quiet, clear thought surfaces: he hopes he lives long enough to see Milo again.

Nikolai’s hand settles lightly at the small of Theo’s back, guiding him toward the exit. Theo walks beside him, the warmth of the short conversation still lingering, the heavier knowledge of what comes next settling once more across his shoulders.