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Alexei steeples his fingers before him as he listens. This is nothing I haven’t already reported.
Mikhail rubs his chin in thought.
“While there are many members of the Blue Note crew, the primary players are their enforcers, Saint and Silas, their favor keeper, Ghost, their bookkeeper, Petra, their informants, Kain, Reef, Vail, and Angel, their tech person, William, and their cleanup people, Luca and Orien. There are signs of a recent security upgrade, which I believe can be attributed to Rowan’s new mate. Rowan himself has not made a public appearance while I’ve been present.”
I take a deep breath. “They are a group from a broad spectrum of professions and class, but no member of the crew has displayed overt aggression or territorial posturing.”
Mikhail taps one finger on the table. “And what about the tip we received?”
I keep my face neutral. “There’s been no movement that I’ve detected. No positioning, no reconnaissance, no targeting of our corridors or personnel. I was able to infiltrate their secure area, and there’s no evidence we’re even on their radar.”
Mikhail leans forward to study me. “And your source? The one who gave you access to the back rooms?”
“Orien Bellamy is letting me get closer, and I’ve been building relationships with the rest of the crew.” I refuse to allow myself to blush as the memory rises of just how close Orien let me get tonight. “It’s only a matter of time before I’m brought into the inner circle.”
“Your methods are too slow. It’s been a month now, and nothing I’ve heard changes my mind about the danger they present to our family.” As Mikhail takes in my outfit, a faint curl at the corner of his mouth appears. “Perhaps you should show more commitment to the mission and less to the…costuming.”
My jaw clenches at the implication that I’m playing dress-up rather than conducting intelligence operations.
Alexei comes to my defense with a quiet growl. “He’s undercover, Micky.”
The use of the diminutive lands like a soft hand on a shoulder, a reminder of rank and place. Mikhail is our uncle, but Alexei is head of the family. The distinction matters, in this room more than anywhere.
Any sign of disagreement vanishes from Mikhail as he retreats with practiced grace. “Of course. I simply wondered if we might consider alternate approaches. Given the time that’s passed.”
He means given the time I’ve had to produce results. I’ve been embedded for three weeks, with little to show, because I’m beginning to suspect there’s nothing to find.
I remain impassive through the exchange while irritation builds. I like this outfit. The cream sweater brings warmth to my complexion, and the streamlined pants lend the illusion of height. If I were still wearing the crop tops, I’d care less, but this outfit is one I would wear in private, when suits weren’t required of me.
I’ve seen others in their casual wear, and it’s not much different, but because I’m an Omega, Mikhail holds me to a higher standard to compensate for, what he calls, my innate weakness.
His condescension, along with the other Vartanian Alphas, have driven me to spend the last eight years proving myself useful to the family. Eight years proving that my designation is irrelevant to my capacity. Eight years watching Mikhail’s mouth curl the same way every time Alexei includes me in strategic discussions rather than relegating me to support roles.
“Blue Note’s operational model is complex,” I say, the words measured. “Rushing would be counterproductive.”
Mikhail scoffs. “Your brother coddles you.”
It’s not the first time he’s said it, or something like it, nor is it the first time he’s suggested that my place in the family structure is the result of Alexei’s sentiment rather than my capability. But with the ghost of Orien’s hands on me, it’s the first time they’ve made me question myself.
I do not respond. It’s not my place. Instead, I fold my hands behind my back and wait for the meeting to end.
Alexei sits in silence until the exchange concludes.
“We’ll continue as planned. Weekly check-ins with standard reporting protocols.” He turns to Mikhail. “Unless you have additional concerns?”
It’s not quite a challenge, but close enough that tension hums in the air between them.
Mikhail straightens, adjusting the diamond cufflinks our grandfather had given him. “No additional concerns at this time.”
“Then we’re done.” Alexei stands, concluding the meeting. “Lev, walk with me.”
I turn my back to our uncle and follow my brother from the room, spine straight and composed. No one watching would know how much this exchange affected me.
Mikhail remains seated at the table, the insult not escaping anyone.
In the hallway, Alexei slows his pace to match mine. “You’re doing well. The information you’ve gleaned is valuable, even if it’s not what we expected.”
“It’s just taking time,” I say. “The Blue Note Crew is a tight knit family.”
