34. Thirty-Three
Spade Tower loomed against the Cincinnati skyline like a blade aimed at God’s throat. The early morning sun caught the glass and steel, making the whole building shimmer with deceptive beauty.
I fidgeted with the hem of my pleated skirt as we rode the elevator up to the executive floor. Beside me, Xavier was the picture of rebellious boredom in his tastefully ripped jeans and his leather jacket. He looked relaxed, hands in his pockets, one boot resting against the back wall of the elevator, though I could hear him opening and closing the lighter he kept in his pocket. Old habits died hard, especially for us.
Papa and Mom had met us at the airport, taken one look at Misha, and welcomed him with open arms. Mom insisted he stay as far away from Algerone and Lucky Losers as possible. Probably for the best. He’d been through enough trauma without adding corporate politics to the mix.
Ash tapped his fingers and let out a sigh. His anxiety was almost as strong as mine. We’d eliminated Roche, saved Misha, and exposed an international criminal network. But something told me Algerone wouldn’t care about all that. Merely completing the mission as assigned would never be good enough for him, not when he found out Ash and I were together.
“Stop freaking out,” Xavier said, rubbing his temples. “You’re giving me a migraine.”
“Stay out of my head,” I shot back, but there was no heat in it. After everything we’d been through in Paris, I couldn’t be pissed that he was being so overprotective.
“You know I can’t fucking help it.” His sigh was only slightly less frustrated than Ash’s had been. “It’s going to be fine. The mission was a success. Nikolai said he’d send a positive report. Even Algerone can’t argue with those results.”
“I’m not worried about the mission.” I glanced back at Ash.
“Whatever happens,” Ash said, reaching forward to take my hand, “I’ve got your back.”
The elevator dinged, the reflective doors sliding open to reveal Maxime’s perfectly composed face. Algerone’s personal assistant looked exactly as I remembered in his sleek suit, calculator eyes, and that particular mix of disapproval and devotion he always wore on his face.
His gaze swept over us, lingering on where Ash’s hand held mine. “Your father will see you now.”
I flipped him off automatically, earning an approving snort from Xavier and an exasperated sigh from Ash. Some things never changed, no matter how many monsters we hunted.
My biological father’s office was exactly what you’d expect from someone who ran an international mercenary operation. Floor to ceiling windows offered strategic views of the city skyline, bookshelves stocked with legal and political textbooks, a closed laptop sitting on his expensive mahogany desk. Everything spoke of power and control, carefully cultivated to project strength and to intimidate.
Just like the man himself.
He didn’t turn away from the window where he stood as we entered, remaining where he was with his hands folded behind his back. “Sit,” he commanded.
We sank into the chairs in front of his desk with me in the middle. The whole thing felt oddly like a weird parody of a family meeting, but there was nothing normal about any of this.
“The Paris Operation,” he began, finally turning away from the window, “was an unmitigated disaster.”
And so it begins , I thought bitterly. Another lecture about how I’ve failed to live up to his expectations.
But this time, I wasn’t alone.
“With respect, sir,” Ash said, “we achieved every mission objective. We eliminated the target, extracted Mikhail Visiliev, and recovered critical intelligence, all of which was delivered to you.”
“At what cost?” My father’s gaze fixed on me, radiating cold fury. “My best handler compromised by an entirely inappropriate sexual relationship with his asset. A relationship that never should have been allowed to develop. Not to mention the Russians are breathing down my neck because of what happened with Viktor. And then neither of you boys had the decency to show up in proper attire or show an ounce of respect to my assistant.”
“I’m not your son,” I spat before I could stop myself. “I’m not your anything. Being a sperm donor doesn’t make you my father any more than your refusal to use the right pronouns makes me male.” I stood, letting all my carefully contained rage finally surface. “Yuri earned the right to call me his child. He’s loved me exactly as I was all my life and never tried to force me to be anything I’m not.”
Algerone’s jaw tightened, that familiar mix of anger and dismissal crossing his features. “Your childish identity crisis does not change reality.”
“No, but it does change who I let claim me as family. The Laskins gave me everything. Love, acceptance, real family. They see me, and so does he.” I gestured to Ash.
Xavier rose slowly from his chair to stand beside me. “Let me make something perfectly clear, Dad .” He spat the title like a curse. “From now on, you and all the staff here at Lucky Losers is going to respect Xander’s identity, his pronouns, and whatever the fuck he tells you to respect. If you don’t, I will systematically dismantle every digital safeguard protecting Lucky Losers’ operations, starting with those offshore accounts you think no one knows about. The ones funding certain anti-capitalist entities in Eastern Europe and Asia.”
Algerone’s expression hardened. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“Try me.” Xavier reached for his phone. “I already have backdoors into most of your systems. Your security is good, but I’m better.”
“You don’t have anything,” Algerone growled. “If you’d breached security, I’d have been informed. Maxime would have—”
“Perhaps you’d like a demonstration?” Xavier asked, holding up his phone. “Maybe we’ll start with a very uncomfortable call to a certain Kentucky senator. I’m sure he’d love to have a chat.”
The tension in the room was thick enough to cut with a knife. I watched Algerone’s face as he processed Xavier’s threat, slowly realizing it wasn’t an empty one. “That would harm everyone in this room,” Algerone said carefully. “Including your sibling.”
“When you play with matches, you have to be prepared to get burned. I learned that the hard way. Now…” Xavier slid his thumb toward the button to unlock his phone. “What’s it going to be?”
Algerone studied Xavier for a long moment, cold calculation warring with barely contained fury. Finally, he smoothed his hands over his tie. “You’ve made your point. There’s no need for further threats.”
“Good.” Xavier kept his thumb hovering over his phone. “I expect a company wide memo by the end of the day clarifying Lucky Losers’ position on respecting employee gender identities. In fact, I think you ought to update and reaffirm the company’s position on DEI and maybe hold a meeting about it.”
“That won’t be necessary.”
“That wasn’t a request.” Xavier sat back down, crossing one leg over the other. “Consider it a first step in rebuilding trust.”
Algerone’s jaw worked, but he gave a sharp nod. “Very well.” He turned to Ash. “I still expect both of you here Monday morning for training. And you’ll both behave appropriately at work. If I even suspect that Xander is getting preferential treatment—”
“Trust me,” Ash said with confidence, “that won’t happen, sir.”
Algerone glanced between us. “Take the weekend then. You’ve earned it.”
We stood in silence and shuffled toward the door.
“Xander?”
I paused, my body stiff as I turned to look back at my father.
Algerone seemed to struggle with his words, his face a mask of careful control. “The way you handled Roche…” He cleared his throat. “Your mother would have been proud. She always did appreciate elegant solutions.”
Tears pricked at my eyes even as my fingers clutched the doorframe. Not just at the mention of the mother I’d never known, but because coming from him, that was practically a love song.
“Thank you,” I whispered, and for once, there was no sarcasm or deflection. Just raw honesty.
In the elevator, Ash pulled me close, nuzzling against my neck. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” I leaned back against his chest. “Just ready to go home.”
Xavier made a gagging sound. “If you two start making out, I’m getting out to take the stairs.”
I huffed. “Like you haven’t already seen worse.”
Outside, Cincinnati sparkled in the late morning sun. Back in Liar's Corner, Misha was probably settling into Xion's old bed. Papa and Mom had taken care of me and given me space to discover who I really was. Now Misha would have that chance too, finally safe with a family who would love him exactly as he was. Just as they had me, without questions or conditions, from the very first day I chose to be myself.
Ash’s hand found mine, his grip possessive in a way that made heat pool low in my belly. I was still a killer, still dangerous, still everything that made me…well, me. But with Ash beside me, the world was a little better, a little brighter. I knew that no matter how far and hard I fell, he’d be there to catch me.
And I’d do the same for him.