Chapter 15: Side Character x Mafia Boss (15)

A few tense minutes later...

Ezia was dragged into the basement by two guards. His face was completely drained of color, his breathing ragged with fear. The moment he reached the center of the room, he fell straight to his knees, slamming his hands onto the cold floor.

"B-Boss..." Ezia stammered out, his chest heaving. "I... I can explain! She was kicking and resisting, so I-"

Before he could offer another desperate excuse-

Alastair looked down at him without a single trace of human emotion.

"I gave one very simple order," Alastair stated quietly. "Bring the primary target only."

His voice remained smooth and completely calm, yet it carried the weight of absolute authority.

"You failed."

Ezia lowered his head even further, his forehead nearly touching the concrete floor. "I’m sorry, Boss! Please! It won’t ever happen again, I swear to you! It’s all because of this bitch who dared to middle between the job!"

Alastair’s eye became more gloomy.

"It won’t," Alastair agreed coldly.

A long suffocating silence filled the basement as everyone held their breath.

Finally, Alastair spoke.

"You are permanently relieved of your duties in this organization. Surrender your weapons and leave the estate grounds immediately."

Ezia blinked in utter shock, his breath catching in his throat. "B-Boss...?"

Before he could do anything or think of anything a loud bang shoot out.

Blood spreaded everywhere. Alastair stood infront of Lyra’s unconscious body so no filthy blood could touch her.

Two senior guards stepped forward immediately, grabbing the man’s body and escorting him out of the basement.

No one else in the room dared to utter a single sound. Every man present knew... for someone in their line of work, being personally stripped of rank and exiled by Alastair Voss was a fate far worse than standard punishment.

Alastair ignored the nervous glances of his remaining subordinates.

He bent down once more, sliding one arm beneath Lyra’s knees and the other behind her back, carefully lifting her up into his arms in a effortless princess carry.

She was surprisingly light in his grip, her head naturally lollong back against his broad chest.

Alastair’s dark grey eyes lingered on her peaceful, sleeping face for a quiet moment, watching her long eyelashes flutter slightly against her cheek.

Then, he turned on his heel toward the exit.

Without looking back at his men, he issued one final, chilling order over his shoulder.

"Clean this place."

"Yes, Boss!"

Every subordinate bowed their heads as Alastair carried the sleeping waitress away down the corridor, each of them silently asking themselves the exact same question...

Why on earth was their ruthless, unyielding leader treating an ordinary, nobody waitress with such delicate, possessive care?

Alastair carried Lyra through the grand, quiet hallways of the estate.

Instead of heading toward the damp basement holding cells where uninvited guests were usually thrown, he turned down the grand staircase and stopped in front of one of the mansion’s finest primary guest suites.

The elite servants standing rigidly along the corridor widened their eyes in complete shock, but they quickly lowered their heads to the floor, not daring to utter a single word or make eye contact.

The door swung open.

The room inside was warm, spacious, and elegantly decorated, bathed in the soft glow of golden wall sconces.

He walked over to the oversized bed and gently laid Lyra down onto the soft, plush mattress. She didn’t wake up for even a second; her breathing remained steady, soft, and deep as she remained completely out cold.

Alastair stood by the bedside, his dark gaze lingering on the faint, angry red bruises marking her delicate wrists. He turned toward a carved wooden cabinet in the corner of the room, opening it to reveal a fully stocked medical kit.

A few moments later, he returned to the side of the bed with a jar of soothing cream and clean bandages.

Sitting on the edge of the mattress, he carefully dabbed the cool ointment onto the rope marks wrapping around her pale skin.

The second the chilly cream touched her sensitive skin-

Lyra frowned in her sleep, her dark eyebrows knitting tightly together. Her lips pouted slightly in dramatic discomfort, letting out a soft, subconscious whimper.

"Mmm..."

Alastair’s hand paused in mid-air.

His grey eyes silently studied every detail of her expressive face.

Slowly... meticulously... he peeled off his black gloves, tossing them onto the nightstand beside the bed.

With gentleness completely foreign to a man of his violent standing, his bare fingertips reached out and brushed over her forehead, softly smoothing away the little frown lines etched between her brows.

"There..." he murmured, his deep voice barely a quiet rustle in the silent room.

As if feeling his warm touch, her pained expression gradually relaxed into tranquility once again, and the tiny pout disappeared from her lips.

Seeing her peaceful, innocent face restored...

The icy coldness in Alastair’s grey eyes faded ever so slightly. The corner of his lips lifted into a faint smile.

His bare fingers unconsciously drifted downward, tracing the soft, delicate outline of her cheek.

Soft.

Much warmer and more fragile than he had ever expected.

His hand slowly came to a stop, his thumb hovering just a fraction of an inch above her pink lips. He stared down at her face for a long, heavy moment, the silence of the grand room swallowing them whole.

"..."

Alastair had spent his entire ruthless life ensuring that no human being could ever become his vulnerability or weakness. He had grown up trusting no one, needing no one, and eliminating anyone who dared stand in his way.

Yet...

This completely ordinary, utterly chaotic little waitress...

Made an unfamiliar, burning desire awaken inside his chest. He wanted to keep her close. To shield her, protect her, and lock her away in a high tower where no one else in the world could ever reach her or lay a single finger on her.

Even he couldn’t logically understand why his cold heart was reacting this way to a girl he had only met a handful of times.

But one dark, dangerous thought quietly and permanently settled into his possessive mind.

Mine.

His grey eyes darkened to the shade of a stormy night sea as an intense, unfamiliar possessiveness slowly took root deep within his soul.

After a long, suffocating silence...

Alastair slowly withdrew his hand from her face. He reached over to the nightstand, picked up his black gloves, and pulled them back over his long fingers, hiding his touch once more.

Without another word, Alastair stood up to his full height and walked silently out of the grand suite.

The heavy door closed with a soft click behind him.

Meanwhile...

Deep inside the dark, chaotic landscape of Lyra’s subconscious mind...

[ Host! ]

[ Host!! ]

The familiar robotic voice echoed endlessly, blasting at maximum volume like a broken car alarm.

Lyra frowned deeply in her sleep, her nose twitching.

"...Five more minutes, Mom..." she grumbled groggily, rolling over on her side and pulling the incredibly fluffy, soft blanket higher up over her shoulders, hugging the luxurious silk pillow tighter against her chest. "Let me sleep..."

The System’s digital interface almost glitched out and crashed from unadulterated frustration.

[ Host! Wake up immediately! ]

[ This is an absolute code-red Emergency! ]

Lyra buried her face even deeper into the warm, ridiculously comfortable goose-down blanket, letting out a satisfied, sleepy sigh.

"Mmm..."

"Stop screaming in my ear..." she mumbled, her words slurred. "Can’t you see I finally get to sleep on an insanely soft bed for once in my life? My back doesn’t even hurt..."

The System nearly let out an AI-generated screech of pure desperation.

[ HOST!! YOU HAVE BEEN LITERALLY KIDNAPPED BY THE MAFIA!! ]

That single, horrifying sentence instantly shattered her peaceful sleep like a brick thrown through a glass window.

Lyra’s eyes flew wide open.

She sat bolt upright in bed, the sheets sliding down her chest as her dark eyes scanned the massive, wildly expensive chandelier hanging from the ceiling above her.

"..."

"...Wait, what?"

The System’s robotic voice echoed furiously inside Lyra’s head, buzzing with maximum static.

[ Host!! ]

[ I explicitly instructed you to make sure the Female Lead got kidnapped by the Male Lead’s men tonight, not YOU!! ]

Lyra winced, rubbing her throbbing head with both hands as she tried to fight off the lingering dizziness from being knocked out.

"How on earth is that my fault?!" she hissed under her breath, glaring up at the silk canopy above her. "I literally got forcibly dragged into this mess by the Female Lead herself! Do you honestly think I volunteered to get hit on the neck and shoved into a black van?!"

The System went completely silent.

If the artificial intelligence had a physical body right now... it would have been repeatedly banging its head against the nearest solid concrete wall in utter defeat.

[ ...You are officially the single most troublesome and chaotic Host I have ever had the misfortune of being assigned to. ]

Lyra rolled her eyes, scoffing softly. "And you are officially the most useless, unhelpful System I have ever met in my entire existence. Hmph."

The System chose not to argue any further. It was genuinely afraid that if it engaged in another petty debate, its internal processing core might actually overheat and malfunction from pure frustration.