Chapter 413 - 413: A Familiar Presence.

Morning broke over London like a soft exhale. Pale light filtered through the curtains, casting gentle shadows across the master bedroom of the Royal Suite. Kyle was the first to wake.

He lay still for a moment, feeling the warmth of Jane's body pressed against his side. Her breathing was slow and even, her face peaceful in sleep. A strand of hair had fallen across her cheek, and he resisted the urge to brush it away—he didn't want to wake her.

"Last night was... different."

He had been intimate with women before. Passionate, aggressive, wild. But last night with Jane had been something else entirely. It was at a pace he wasn't used to himself, they felt more connected way more than they ever did and Kyle had way to put this into words whatsoever.

"I feel closer to her than ever."

But his body reminded him of the cost. His balls were empty. He had been having sex left and right—first the bathroom with Ella and Cassandra, then last night with Jane. Three women in one day. No libido in the world could keep up with that schedule if he kept at it.

"If this keeps up, I'm going to need a recovery period."

He smiled at the thought. It was a good problem to have considering people had way more concerning thoughts.

The doorbell rang.

Kyle sat up carefully, easing out from under Jane's arm. She stirred but didn't wake—just murmured something soft and rolled onto her side.

"Sleep," Kyle whispered. "I'll handle it."

He pulled on a pair of sweatpants and padded through the suite to the front door. His hand hovered over the handle for a moment—old habit, checking his surroundings—then he pulled it open.

Ella stood in the doorway, grinning like a cat who had swallowed a canary. Behind her, Cassandra held a sleeping Junior in her arms. Jasmine was bouncing on her heels, still wearing her oversized hoodie.

"Morning," Ella said, her voice far too bright.

Kyle pressed a finger to his lips. "Shh. Jane's still asleep."

Ella's grin widened. "Oh, I bet she is."

"Ella," Kyle couldn't hide his smile.

"Sleeping beauty, huh? Must have been quite the night," Ella continued and this was what Kyle expected her from her in all honesty. She wouldn't let him hear the end of it.

Kyle didn't answer, he just stepped aside and let them in.

Jasmine rushed past him, her small feet padding across the marble floor. "Where's Jane? Can I see her?"

"Not yet, kiddo. She's resting."

"But I want to say hi," Jasmine pouted, she missed Jane.

"She'll be up soon. Let her sleep a little longer," Kyle requested as he patted her head.

Jasmine pouted but didn't argue. She wandered toward the living room, her attention already caught by the massive television.

Ella's grin had faded into something softer. She stepped closer to Kyle, close enough that Cassandra couldn't hear.

"You sly dog," she said, low and teasing. "You really wore her out, didn't you?"

Kyle shushed her. "She had a lot to drink. That's all."

"Uh-huh. Sure it is."

She gave him a knowing look, then turned and walked toward the kitchen.

Cassandra followed her, but she paused in the doorway. Her eyes met Kyle's, and something flickered there—not jealousy, not resentment, but something else.

It was understanding.

Kyle didn't know what she was thinking, but he knew it wasn't negative. Cassandra had always been the calm one and steady one. The one who could see the big picture even when others couldn't.

"Jane's lucky," Cassandra said quietly.

Kyle blinked. "What?"

She smiled—warm, genuine. "She had a rough night. You took care of her. That's what family does."

She walked away before he could respond.

Kyle stood in the hallway, watching her go. He had no idea why she phrased it in such a dramatic fashion but she wasn't wrong regardless.

In the kitchen, Ella was pouring herself a glass of water. Cassandra was settling Junior into a portable crib she had brought from their room. Jasmine was flipping through channels, her attention span already exhausted.

Kyle walked in and leaned against the counter.

"You guys came back early," he said.

Ella shrugged. "Got bored. Also, we figured you'd need coffee." She gestured toward the machine. "Made some fresh."

Kyle poured himself a cup. It was black, strong, perfect.

"Thanks," he said.

Ella studied him over the rim of her glass. "You look different."

"Different how?" Kyle questioned with a raised brow.

"Lighter. Less... clenched." She tilted her head. "Jane's good for you."

Cassandra looked up from the crib. "She's good for all of us."

Kyle didn't respond as he didn't need to.

The moment was interrupted by a buzz. It was his phone, vibrating on the counter. He glanced at the screen.

[Unknown number.]

He unlocked it and read the message.

[Unknown: 47 Westminster Bridge Road. Come alone. Don't be followed.]

Kyle stared at the screen. The mannerism was strange—too formal, too deliberate. Like someone who wasn't used to texting in English.

"Who the hell is this?" Kyle thought at first but the question answered itself.

He re-read the message. The address, warning, and abruptness.

"Viktor?"

It was the only explanation that made sense. Viktor had been watching him. Viktor knew he was in London. Viktor had been staying in America, but that didn't mean he couldn't send messages.

*But why would Viktor give me an address?*

Kyle pocketed the phone, his mind already racing.

"I have to step out," he said.

Ella raised an eyebrow. "Again?"

"Just a quick errand."

"Kyle." She set her glass down. "You're going somewhere."

"I'll be back."

"That's not what I asked."

He met her eyes. "I know. But I can't tell you right now."

Ella didn't push. She just nodded, her expression unreadable.

"Be careful," she said.

Kyle grabbed his jacket and headed for the door.

Behind him, the suite hummed with the sounds of family. Jasmine laughed at something on TV. Junior gurgled. Cassandra hummed softly.

"I have to protect this."

"Whatever it takes," And if Viktor proved a threat, Vitkor would have to die, it was as simple as that.

Kyle was so close and if Viktor had been following him, even to London, then there was a big problem.

Why? There was a chance Viktor was aware of Maya and that would change everything.

-

Viktor sat on a weathered bench near Westminster Bridge, his massive frame spilling over the edges like a bear trying to fit into a child's chair. The river Thames flowed behind him, grey and indifferent, carrying the reflections of a city that had no idea who was sitting in its midst.

He was in London.

Marcello didn't know. Marcello had assumed Viktor was still in America, watching, waiting, doing whatever Viktor did when left to his own devices. And Viktor had let him believe that.

The Butcher was in control. The deranged version. The one who laughed at violence and found beauty in suffering and as such, there would be questionable decisions he made to keep himself entertained. His metal teeth glinted under the grey sky as he grinned at nothing in particular.

This wasn't a secluded spot. Viktor had chosen it deliberately—a public space, crowded with tourists and locals and street performers. It was the last place anyone would expect a meeting with someone like him.

Crowds hid everything and made preys feel safe to approach.

People moved around him in wide arcs. A mother pulled her child closer. A group of teenagers slowed their pace, eyes darting toward him before looking away. A businessman in a suit adjusted his tie and crossed the street.

Viktor fit every profile. Tall, bald, scarred. His face was a roadmap of violence, and the scowl he wore like armor didn't help his case. He looked like a criminal because he was one. The best kind—the kind who had survived long enough to become a legend in his home country, Russia.

He held the phone in his massive hand, the screen dark now. He had sent the message an hour ago.

Viktor's grin widened. His tongue ran over his metal teeth, making a soft scraping sound.

"He vill come."

Kyle was predictable in ways he didn't realize. Curious. Protective. Unable to leave a mystery unsolved. Viktor had seen it in the way he moved, the way he talked, the way he looked at people like they were puzzles waiting to be solved.

"Smart puppy. But still puppy."

Viktor checked the time. Ten minutes past the hour.

He was getting impatient and wondered if he should kill someone to get Kyle's attention as he suspected Kyle was watching him from a distance but this was how little he valued human life as a whole.

He looked toward the bridge, scanning the crowd. No Kyle yet. But he would come.

Viktor's fingers drummed on his thigh. The Butcher was not a patient man. But he could wait. For this, he could wait.

"Do not make Viktor vait, Kyle."

The words formed in his mind, thick with accent, broken just like his mind was.

"Do not make Viktor vait."