Isaac woke up as the first rays of sunlight brushed across his nose, tickling him awake. He blinked sleepily a few times until he finally opened his eyes fully—and instead of his bedroom, he saw his living room. Strange. He never fell asleep in the living room.
He frowned.
Why am I in the living room?
Sluggishly, he pulled the wool blanket tighter around himself, instinctively searching for warmth. Only in the next moment did he remember that he hadn't fallen asleep alone the night before. His gaze fell on the empty glasses on the table, the opened bottle of wine, and the bottle of gin that had been tightly closed again—ready to be opened at any time by Noctis.
He shivered slightly. Without Noctis's body heat that had surrounded him during the night, he felt cold. He didn't really want to admit it, but somehow it had been nice not to be alone. Though, truth be told, he probably wouldn't have allowed anyone but Noctis to fall asleep on him.
Where the hell was that bastard anyway?
"Noctis?" he murmured tiredly, but no answer came back.
Isaac sat up. He was alone, and the apartment lay silent before him. The wool blanket slipped off him; instinctively he picked it up and looked at it. A feeling of loneliness spread through him. He felt cold and somehow abandoned.
Pull yourself together, Isaac, he scolded himself. He must have had something important to do. Besides, he covered you up before he left.
Absentmindedly, he clenched his hand even tighter in the blanket. He didn't know anyone who would just fall asleep on him without a second thought like Noctis—and then sneak off again before the first rays of sunlight.
"Damn idiot…" Isaac muttered softly. "At least let me scold you before you just disappear again…"
Had he had to go on another mission? Even though he'd only come back yesterday…
Isaac grabbed his phone and took a look. No message from Noctis. Of course not. Why would he write anything? His eyes flicked to the time. He let out a relieved sigh. His bio-alarm clock had reliably woken him at a quarter past five. He got up, stretched his tired limbs, and cursed quietly when his back protested painfully.
"Great," he muttered. Thanks to Noctis's weight, he hadn't exactly been lying comfortably—even if he did feel well-rested. He folded the blanket, turned on the coffee machine, and quickly jumped into the shower.
He really didn't like the thought that Noctis might have had to go on another mission. He had looked so tired; it just wasn't fair. He should have gotten at least a few days off. At least one, like Isaac always did before being assigned his next job.
He was worried about Noctis.
You'd better not get yourself hurt before I get the chance to kick your ass, Isaac thought irritably and turned his attention back to his shower.
Luckily, he still had enough time to get ready, and at least he'd be able to enjoy his morning cup of coffee before he had to leave.
___
Two days passed without so much as a sign of life from Noctis. It was normal for them not to have any real communication with each other. Usually, they only saw one another when Noctis decided he wanted to get on Isaac's nerves.
So Isaac went about his work as usual. The painting was taking on more and more shape, and thanks to Noah, Isaac at least knew that nothing had happened to Noctis. Not yet, at least. Because if anything had happened to Noctis, Noah would have been devastated—after all, Noctis was something of a role model to him.
Which was almost absurd, considering there were only a few years between them.
At some point, Isaac decided that he didn't need to worry about Noctis. It surely wouldn't take long before he'd show up in Isaac's apartment again without any warning. He could still start worrying if he didn't hear from Noctis within the next two weeks.
Because if there was one thing Isaac knew, it was that Noctis's most useful ability was probably surviving everything like a damn cockroach—especially when Isaac considered the kind of jobs he did for the Boss.
He should use his remaining energy to get closer to the cop. To his annoyance, he hadn't really made any progress on that front yet, and the cop still treated him like a criminal. Well, he was one—but the cop still didn't know Isaac's true identity, and what was more, he didn't seem to suspect him of being the phantom thief Moonshadow.
Which, in itself, was a good thing. On the other hand, it would have been more than strange if the cop did suspect him of being Moonshadow, because Isaac made sure no one could recognize him whenever he carried out a heist.
So if the cop did start suspecting Isaac, there would only be a very small circle of people who could have betrayed him—and those people were very tight-lipped when it came to his abilities.
And yet the Viper Syndicate may have learned about my abilities…
Right. He still had to deal with that problem as well. Luckily, that trio of idiots hadn't shown their faces again since then. He'd love to know what the Viper Syndicate knew—and, more importantly, where they'd gotten their information from.
"Hey, Isaac!" Noah greeted him at the shift change at noon.
"Hi," Isaac replied curtly.
Noah glanced around the café briefly and then leaned closer to Isaac.
"Ashe is asking if we can meet next week. She wants to discuss a few things with us before we get started."
Isaac nodded. "Tell her to text me when and where."
He untied his apron and headed toward the staff break room. Noah followed him.
"We're meeting at the usual place," Noah chattered on cheerfully.
So, in his secret apartment—or secret base, as he liked to call it. To Noah, all of this was nothing more than a game with a certain thrill to it. On the one hand, Isaac was incredibly annoyed that Noah turned their heists into a huge spectacle. On the other hand, it was somehow admirable that Noah still hadn't been caught—and that no one knew about Ashe either, who operated in the background.
That alone was an achievement.
Still, Isaac sighed quietly. Noah's voice had long since returned to its normal volume. If he kept chattering like that, half the café would know in a few minutes when and where they were meeting—and probably people who really shouldn't be hearing any of this.
"Noah," Isaac said quietly. He took a step closer to him. "Just send me the details and I'll be there. There's no reason to keep talking about this here, don't you think?"
"I… I just wanted to talk to you, Isaac," Noah said, a little embarrassed. "There haven't been many opportunities lately, and after last week we didn't even get the chance to go over everything again."
"I've had a lot to do," Isaac replied.
"I know. My father only gives you a little time to recover," Noah snorted. "You really deserve a bit of free time. And besides, I'd really like to just go out with you again and, I don't know, talk about nonsense or something. Like we used to."
He had that hopeful look that always reminded Isaac of a puppy. Probably Noah's greatest strength when it came to getting what he wanted. Too bad for Noah that his puppy eyes didn't work on Isaac at all.
"I get more than enough time off, and I have more than enough time to finish the next job," Isaac said. "Besides, you know perfectly well that I don't like going out."
"Yeah, I know. But it'll do you good to get out for once. Come on, Isaac, don't leave me hanging!" Noah pleaded now.
Just the thought of going to some bar or club with Noah made him feel nauseous.
"We're meeting next week," Isaac said firmly. "If you want, we can have a drink or two there. But nothing more than that."
Noah's face lit up immediately. "Really?!" he exclaimed happily. "You don't have to worry about a thing—I'll take care of everything and bring it along! We'll have a super cozy evening! I promise!"
The way Noah said it, it definitely wouldn't be a quiet evening. At least Noah couldn't invite anyone else besides Ashe. So, if Isaac was lucky, he'd only have to deal with the two of them—and not a full-blown house party.
Noah would never reveal his secret base to anyone who had nothing to do with their jobs.
"Fine by me. Text me later. I've got to go," Isaac said at last. He grabbed his shoulder bag and headed outside.
"I will! Have a nice afternoon!" Noah called after him.
Isaac briefly raised a hand in farewell without turning around and continued on his way.
At least he didn't need to go grocery shopping anymore. He could go straight home and continue working on the painting. At his current pace, he'd need about another week to finish it; after that, he could move on to step two—the arguably most important step in every one of his jobs.
The café door closed behind him with a soft chime. He turned left, moving away from the bustle of the city center. His apartment was in a fairly quiet area with little traffic. It was a slight downside that there was no supermarket nearby, but given how little he needed, it wasn't really a problem.
He had barely taken a few steps when everything suddenly changed.
With a rough jerk, he was yanked into the nearest alley and slammed against the cold stone wall with a forearm pressed across his throat. A soft gasp escaped Isaac as the pressure closed around his windpipe, stealing his breath for a moment.
Instinctively, his hands shot up. He grabbed the man's arm, tried to push it away, struck at him, dug his fingernails deep into skin. But aside from a grunt, he didn't manage to free himself even an inch.
At least the guy wasn't squeezing hard enough to deliberately choke him. The man holding him was huge and thickly muscled. He kept Isaac in an iron grip, and there was hardly any chance for Isaac to break free. If only he had a weapon, then—
"Well, if this isn't our Isaac," a male voice suddenly said to his right.
Isaac turned his gaze as best he could toward the speaker. It was that ugly guy from the Viper Syndicate with the thick scar across his face—the one who had approached Isaac in the café a few days ago.
"You again," Isaac hissed irritably. He really didn't have time to deal with these idiots. "What do you want this time? I'm pretty sure I made it clear last time what I think of your 'offer.'"
"Wow, did you get up on the wrong side of the bed today or what?" Scarface asked, amused.
"Tell your muscle-bound friend here to let go of me, and I'll be happy to show you," Isaac snarled.
"Forget it, Isaac. Right now you're more aggressive than a stray cat in a territory fight."
That damn bastard made Isaac more than a little angry. First the thing at the café, and now he was trying again in a dark alley? But from the looks of it, there were only the two of them—so Isaac wouldn't have any trouble once that damn brute let him go. He stopped struggling to conserve his strength.
"What else do you want to do? Talk?" Isaac asked dismissively.
"Talking doesn't sound so bad, don't you think?"
"It's not like I have any other choice right now."
"Well, my dear Isaac. I'm here because I want to ask you once again to join our syndicate."
"Wouldn't it be appropriate if you at least told me your damn name first?" Isaac hissed.
A flicker of irritation crossed the other man's face—barely more than a twitch. Then he took a deep breath and plastered on a saccharine smile so fake that Isaac couldn't help but shudder. It was utterly disgusting. He wanted nothing more than to see that unfiltered, annoyed expression again.
"You're right," the man finally said. "It was rude of me not to introduce myself earlier." He tilted his head slightly. "My name is Nico."
Then he patted the muscle-bound brute next to him on the arm. The grip around Isaac's neck loosened, and the man stepped back.
Isaac gasped for air, coughing several times before he could breathe properly again. His fingers pressed against his aching throat as he shot Nico an angry glare.
Act like you usually do, Isaac.
His boss's words echoed in his mind. He had to calm down and handle this more calmly—even if he would have loved to wipe that disgusting grin off Nico's face.
"Maybe we started this the wrong way," Nico continued undeterred. "My boss is still very interested in you. I would kindly ask you to come with us."
"Are you always this aggressive toward others?" Isaac asked hoarsely, rubbing his neck. "Who strangles someone when they want something from them?"
Nico just shrugged. "I already told you, I won't ask nicely forever." His expression darkened. "This is your last chance, Isaac."
Isaac met his gaze with undisguised disgust. "My answer is still no. I have nothing to do with you idiots from the Viper Syndicate."
Still, all he could do was wait for the moment they physically attacked. He wanted, above all, to prevent them from turning this into a war between clans.
Isaac could under no circumstances be the one to escalate.
Nico regarded him with disdain. It was clear he was just following orders and didn't think much of Isaac. Well, that sentiment was definitely mutual.
"Your boss isn't worth you kissing his ass any longer," Nico growled, annoyed.
Isaac clenched his fist. His boss was absolutely worth it, and he wouldn't tolerate anyone dragging his name through the mud.
"That's called loyalty, and I will certainly not betray my clan just because you're trying to persuade me with that oh-so-friendly approach," Isaac hissed. "So disappear and leave me alone. No matter how many times you ask, the answer will always be no."
But instead of throwing angry glances or firing back more remarks, Nico just laughed.
"Your boss's dream will soon shatter into a thousand pieces! His vision of a united city is not welcome by many. He can soon say goodbye to his flimsy monopoly idea!" He gave Isaac a smug grin. "Let's see if you're still so loyal when everything collapses."
Isaac shot him an amused look. His boss would continue pulling the strings in this city for a long time. No one could touch him—so how the hell did this worm think his boss wouldn't be around to rule the city?
Not even in a hundred years would that happen.
"Oh yeah? And how do you suppose that will happen? No one in this city has as much influence as my boss, and your ridiculous syndicate won't change that," Isaac replied, his gaze icy. "Even if you teamed up with the other clans."
"Oh, right. The other clans," Nico scoffed dismissively. "Listen to me carefully, Isaac. Because this is the last time I'll show even the slightest bit of kindness toward you."
Isaac merely raised an eyebrow and looked at him calmly. He said nothing. He waited. People like Nico loved to talk when you gave them the stage.
"We won't stop until we get what we want, and you'd do well to follow us willingly. You still have a choice—for next time, we won't be nice or careful."
Isaac snorted amusedly. "So next time you plan to force me to come along? Why not right now? My answer will be the same anyway, no matter how convincing you try to be."
A contemptuous grin spread across Nico's face. "I was hoping you'd say no. Your arrogant attitude will soon come to an end. We know everything about you, Isaac. Look forward to our next meeting," Nico said.
"You know nothing about me," Isaac hissed without hesitation.
Nico laughed quietly, nodded to the muscle-bound man, and walked past Isaac. As he reached his side, he suddenly grabbed Isaac's shoulder and dug his fingers brutally into the flesh. Isaac gritted his teeth, suppressing any sound—because one of Nico's fingers landed right on his healing scar. A sharp pain shot through his arm.
"If I were you, Isaac," Nico whispered close to his ear, "I'd pay very close attention to who's standing behind me." His voice was calm, almost gentle. "Your oh-so-peaceful life under your boss's protection will soon come to an end."
Then he let go of him, calmly straightened his jacket, and walked on as if nothing had happened.
"We'll be seeing each other again very soon!" Nico called back to him.
And then Isaac was alone in the alley.
He held his arm and checked whether the wound had torn open again. To his relief, he couldn't feel any blood.
That was a close one, he thought irritably.
What did they know about him? The way Isaac judged Nico, he was most likely just bluffing—trying to unsettle him to get what he wanted. This whole thing was nothing more than a rigged game.
They know nothing. They know absolutely nothing. No one knows about your abilities. No one knows about your secret. Get a grip, Isaac!
He couldn't afford to believe Nico, nor to cave in because of his words. He wouldn't believe him—and the next time he saw Nico, he would show him exactly what awaited him if he kept crossing his boundaries.