GABRIEL #3
It starts like always, before something bad is about to happen.
I feel the distinct pressure at the back of my head.
It may come even minutes before the five-second vision arrives.
But right now, there’s nothing around me that looks suspicious.
Maybe the danger isn’t severe enough? I have no idea, but I continue monitoring everything with my ability fully active.
The men stand close together, shoulders hunched inward as if they’re hiding something in their hands from everyone around them.
I clench my jaw and shift my weight restlessly, preparing for… I don’t even know what, silently hoping Blue will finish the conversation already.
Mr. Gomez continues whispering and rambling while fragments of sentences reach me, but I can barely focus anymore.
Something like:
"…he took the job because he’s desperate. In practice, he can’t function normally in society with pheromones that strong. Any AOs he gets near immediately want sex, either with him or with each other. I’m not surprised he accepted Sidorov’s terms. He’s basically unemployable…"
The group of whispering men shifts apart slightly, and that’s when I notice one of them holding something that looks like a thick straw for drinking milkshakes.
My entire body tightens.
My five-second sense kicks into overdrive.
Blue seems to be wrapping up the conversation. Gomez thanks him for the discretion, and Blue calmly assures him he’ll handle the matter.
Gomez turns and leaves while Blue pulls out his phone and glances down at it. I slowly approach until I’m standing about three feet away.
Blue starts dialing someone.
And then the vision hits.
The man with the straw raises it to his mouth.
He inhales deeply, cheeks puffing outward before he blasts a tiny white ball through the tube straight toward Blue’s face.
Obviously, like anyone who survived middle school, I immediately recognize what it is.
A spitball.
Just a little wad of saliva-soaked paper. Nothing truly dangerous, nothing requiring some brutal intervention, but for some reason a wave of fury surges through me anyway.
The second the spitball leaves the edge of the straw, I’m already moving.
Right as it gets within about three feet of Blue, I slide between them, and the paper ball bounces harmlessly off my chest instead, going off course before it can hit him.
Blue instantly jerks his head up, catching only the last second of what happened, but it doesn’t take him long to identify where it came from.
The men hurriedly hide the straw and turn away, pretending innocence, but nothing escapes me.
"Какой же ты ублюдок!"[4] I growl under my breath, and in three quick strides I reach them, grab the alpha who fired it by the shoulder, and knock him out with a single punch that sends him crashing to the floor.
It’s definitely excessive force. Completely disproportionate.
But something fierce and overwhelming rises inside me, this instinctive need to protect Blue at any cost and by any means possible, and I have no clue where it comes from, since it seems super irrational.
Naturally, the entire lobby erupts in noise. People turn to stare, and all four guards assigned to lobby security immediately come pouring out of their little office.
If someone missed the spitball part, it probably just looks like I walked up and punched some random guy in the face for no reason.
The alpha’s friends immediately prove themselves cowards and start backing away fast, abandoning him the second the situation explodes into chaos.
The security guards approach me, and I can already tell they’re preparing to grab my arms.
"I’m Mr. Blue Lowen’s bodyguard. That man spat on him," I say loudly and firmly, my voice cutting through the commotion sharp enough to stop them in place.
How strange, yet again I find this immense strength and boldness in myself, to confront other alphas! What’s going on?
I can see them hesitate.
Blue walks over calmly.
"I have footage of the entire incident right here," he says, lifting one slender finger to the edge of his glasses. "I’m already transferring it to my phone."
A second later he raises his screen, already displaying the exact moment.
For real, his recording setup is ridiculously impressive.
The footage clearly shows the alpha using the straw and firing the spitball toward Blue.
Fully immersed in the authoritative air I have somehow evoked, I say coldly,
"I’ll personally make sure a formal complaint reaches your department. Your employment in Mr. Lowen’s tower is terminated effective immediately."
The alpha, who’s only now beginning to recover from the punch, however still sitting in the floor, finally seems to realize his stupid joke is about to have very real consequences.
I notice Blue’s eyebrows lift slightly.
Did my initiative surprise him? Did I overstep? Is he going to object?
No. He lets me take control of the situation.
"As head of Mr. Lowen’s security, I cannot allow people willing to physically attack him to continue working inside a building that belongs to him," I continue in an almost formal tone, casually assigning myself that title. Oh well.
"It was just a stupid spitball!" the alpha protests, sounding close to tears.
I lean down, grab his shirt tightly against his chest, and say sharply,
"If I spit in your face right now, would you want me remaining in your proximity afterward, inside a place built with your own money?"
The alpha says nothing. His mouth twists like he might actually cry.
I shove him away hard enough to make him stumble.
"So you’re brave enough to spit on a small omega, but not brave enough to deal with the consequences afterward? Is that it?"
"Alright," one of the guards says in a meditative tone. "We’ll take him and make sure the incident is reported to his supervisor."
"This alpha’s authorization to work inside this building is revoked. He’s no longer permitted on the premises. Understood?"
"Understood," the guards answer while glancing nervously toward Blue, who remains silent throughout, letting me deal with it the way I see fit.
A moment later they haul the stressed-out alpha away toward the security office.
I turn and look at Blue, his sapphire eyes lifting toward my face. For a moment there’s silence before he finally says,
"I’ll admit, I probably wouldn’t have been firm enough to get him fired myself. But since you are now… what was it you called yourself? Ah yes, the head of my security, I suppose that technically makes it your decision."
There’s a subtle smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
I shrug. "Maybe it wasn’t a huge deal, but it still showed exactly how he sees you, Mr. Lowen.
His disrespect. And the fact he discussed it with his little group first means they were all on board with it.
That kind of behavior should get shut down quickly.
Why should you provide jobs for people who openly hate you? "
"Oh, Gabriel, if I fired every person who hated me, I’d have to fire a very large number of people."
"Maybe now his friends will learn that actions have consequences and people should know how to behave with some class even when they disagree with someone. I had to face consequences for my own stupidity, didn’t I? I went to prison. Why should he get a free pass?"
"That’s a good conclusion," Blue says while turning toward the elevator. "Avoiding consequences is one of life’s greatest luxuries."
"And it makes people spoiled and entitled," I add darkly.
Then Blue speaks again, this time much quieter, his voice saturated with something softer.
"And regarding your intervention… make no mistake, I appreciate it. It may have been harsher than what I personally would’ve done, but I know your intentions were good, and for that I’m grateful.
Situations like this happened to me way too often in the past. I learned to ignore them in a way.
I’ve had drinks thrown at me, been splashed with piss, and insulted directly to my face.
Maybe I’ve become numb to it, especially since my previous security teams failed to catch some of the incidents.
But it seems the standard of my protection has now improved considerably, which is, in its own way, a pleasant change. "
I feel heat flood into my cheeks.
Am I really this desperate for compliments? Or maybe I’m especially desperate for compliments from… Blue?
The thought is unsettling, maybe even a little worrying. Have I really changed this much? Am I a hypocrite here, being the one who protested against Blue’s company, now being holier than thou?
As the elevator rises, Blue looks down at his phone while I keep staring at him the entire time.
At one point he must feel the weight of my gaze because he lifts his head, and our eyes meet.
My heartbeat speeds up slightly and then, for reasons I can’t even explain myself, I smile at him softly and shyly.
Blue’s eyebrows lift just a little. He doesn’t smile back, but I could swear the corner of his mouth twitches like he almost wanted to.
◆◆◆
The next break doesn’t come until lunch, and Blue takes me back to the penthouse again.
James serves us food, and this time there’s another generous spread of delicious food for me as well.
When I’m halfway through it, Blue finishes his meal. He lifts his head and watches me for a moment as I stuff my face like a starving animal.
"This morning, you said you’re good at math. What exactly did you mean, straight A’s you crammed for all night, or something else?"
I square my shoulders with a smirk. I like talking about this, I know it impresses people. I wonder if I’ll manage to impress… a genius?
"I won a bunch of math competitions and Olympiads back in school, and…" I pause briefly. "I don’t need calculators. I can do mental math," I say, like it’s nothing. "Big numbers, not just basic stuff. Addition, multiplication, division, exponentiation, roots, and so on."