Noctis moved through the streets of Magnolia—at an hour that didn't suit him at all.
It wasn't just midday. It was glaring, almost unbearably bright. The sunlight lay over the rooftops like a shimmering veil, reflecting in windows and making even the shadows seem thin. At least his dark sunglasses concealed the worst of it, softening the harshness of the light and granting him the illusion of dusk.
He yawned widely without making any effort to hide it, keeping mostly to the shade of the buildings, drifting from one patch of darkness to the next like something that belonged there more than in the open light.
Not that he had anything against the sun itself—he actually liked the warmth.
It was just that he was in a hurry and had no time to enjoy it now.
Why the hell had Vincent summoned him of all times right now?
Only minutes ago, he had been dozing, stretched out in the bay window of Isaac's apartment, wrapped in the pleasant quiet of a sleepy afternoon. Then his brother's call had broken the calm of the studio. He had been brief—abrupt—and it had sounded urgent.
Of course, Noctis had set off immediately.
On his way out, he had promised Isaac he'd bring back coffee from Café Noir. At least he could use the excuse that he needed to stretch his legs.
Without looking back, he turned into the alley where his brother's hideout was located. No one would follow him into that alley—and if someone did, they wouldn't get very far.
Those who lingered in the shadows gave him silent nods and let him pass as usual. Unfazed, he walked through the inconspicuous door with the broken entry light and entered the small stairwell that led straight down to the basement.
Once downstairs, he passed Vincent's secretary and headed directly into the office. Inside, he was greeted not only by his brother but also by Mox. A barely noticeable twitch crossed Noctis's face before his expression smoothed out again. Internally, he rolled his eyes. Of all people.
He had hoped he wouldn't have to see that little rat, at least. But if he was already here… he might as well have a bit of fun and take out some of the annoyance he felt toward the boss on him.
"Mox," Noctis said, offering him a smile sweeter than it had any right to be. "How nice to see you. It's really been far too long."
The effect was immediate.
Mox immediately took a step back. The fact that he didn't raise his arms defensively was an amusing detail—one that, of course, did not escape Noctis. In that instant, he knew exactly how he would make Mox's life hell today.
"What are you up to now?" Mox asked cautiously.
Noctis didn't answer right away. Instead, he stepped closer. Mox shifted sideways, as if expecting to be on the receiving end of Noctis's knife at any moment. Vincent raised an eyebrow and watched the scene with amusement from his chair. When Noctis came to stand beside Mox, he turned toward him, straightened his tie, gave it a light tap, and nodded in approval.
"That tie pin is new, isn't it?" he remarked pleasantly. "It has style. Suits you, Mox."
Mox blinked. For a moment, confusion replaced the fear.
"Th-thanks…?"
"Leave us alone, Mox," Vincent interrupted calmly. "I expect your report in an hour."
The relief that instantly spread across Mox's face was impossible to miss. He nodded hastily and all but fled the room.
Noctis watched him go, a quiet, satisfied snort on his lips.
"How shy," he hummed, in a good mood. "You hardly recognize our little venomous snake like that."
Vincent chuckled softly behind his desk, a low, throaty sound.
"I think you've threatened or tortured him in just about every way imaginable by now," he remarked with a faint grin. His scar twisted the smile into something characteristically grotesque.
Noctis drew his brows together slightly, as though seriously considering the statement.
"He hasn't experienced my illusions yet," he said at last with a shrug. "Nor the truly unpleasant things." A crooked smile spread across his lips. "So he's still getting off pretty lightly."
Vincent studied him in silence for a moment, his gaze attentive.
"You look well. Rested."
"I took a vacation," Noctis replied curtly. "Before I do something that might jeopardize the plan."
"Oh?" Vincent raised an eyebrow. "And he just accepted that?"
A dark, self-satisfied glint flickered in Noctis's eyes.
"Of course. You know how convincing I can be."
Now it was his turn to study Vincent more closely. But he didn't look injured, and he carried himself with the same calm composure Noctis was used to. Whatever he wanted, it seemed to have a different reason. Noctis shrugged, then swung himself up onto the desk without invitation, letting his legs dangle loosely.
"So why did you call me in so urgently?" he asked, his tone now noticeably more serious.
Vincent folded his hands in front of him.
"So that we're on the same page," he replied calmly. "We're moving—slowly but surely—toward the final phase."
Noctis's gaze narrowed slightly.
"You said we still had time."
"We do." Vincent leaned forward just a fraction. "But time is only useful if it's used deliberately. I think it's wise for us to coordinate more closely."
A brief nod. "Fair enough. So?"
Vincent studied him again.
"First, tell me what's bothering you. Then we'll take care of the rest."
Noctis blinked.
"Damn," he muttered dryly. "You really do know me too well."
"Of course," Vincent replied without hesitation. "You are my beloved little brother, after all."
Noctis let out a quiet snort, a faint hint of a grin on his lips.
"You say that as if we spent our entire childhood in perfect harmony."
Vincent leaned back, his expression calm, almost thoughtful.
"We were there when it mattered," he said quietly. "That's more than many others can claim." A brief pause. "Our bond is stronger than that of most siblings."
Noctis held his gaze, then his smile sharpened again into something more impatient, more cutting. He exhaled audibly.
"No," he said at last. "First, the reason I'm here in the first place."
He reached into his coat and pulled out a plain brown envelope.
"The situation with the boss is becoming critical."
Vincent tilted his head slightly.
"In what way?"
Without further explanation, Noctis handed him the envelope. Vincent opened it immediately and pulled out several photographs, his gaze moving quickly over them.
"I sorted them," Noctis added as he slid off the desk. "So try not to mix anything up."
He stepped beside the desk, took some of the pictures back from Vincent, and began laying them out carefully in groups.
"First," he began, pointing to the first row, "he recently introduced a new drug into the city. I had a sample sent to you last week."
Noctis's gaze turned colder.
"This is the result."
He tapped one of the photos with his finger.
"You mean that blue liquid?"
Noctis gave a slight nod.
"Mostly insignificant on its own, but he's continuing to poison the city. They call it Angel's Tears or something." He paused briefly. "Anyone who takes it is knocked out for at least a day. Paralyzed. They don't perceive anything, and they don't do anything either. You could almost think they're wandering through other planes."
Vincent nodded slowly, his eyes still on the images.
"That will be troublesome to purge from the city."
"Troublesome is putting it mildly," Noctis muttered, before gesturing to the next stack. "This is where it gets more interesting."
His tone grew colder.
"He's getting back into human trafficking. So far, mostly young women—as usual." A short pause. "But he's expanding his inventory. Attractive young men… and children." His voice flattened. "Less frequently than women—but that hardly makes it any less of a problem."
Vincent pressed his lips together, the fingers of his right hand tensing slightly.
"He's overstepping," he growled quietly. "We've been too quiet."
Noctis didn't argue. Instead, he pushed the next stack forward.
"He's opened a bar at the harbor. I haven't fully figured out what he's planning there yet, but it wouldn't hurt to send a few of your men over."
Vincent gave a short nod. "Most likely another hub for his operations."
"You can count on it." Noctis picked up five individual photos and laid them out separately. "And to go with that: his current operation points during the raids."
He arranged the images into a neat row.
"These locations rotate slightly, but these are the ones currently active."
Vincent cast him a brief glance but said nothing. Instead, he reached for a stack of documents Noctis had placed beside the photos.
His eyes widened just a fraction.
"Are these his accounting records?"
Noctis gave a thin grin.
"Almost. These were in his office—I dropped by recently to see how he's been passing the time. Unfortunately, I can't crack his safe with the really important files. That's not exactly my specialty."
Vincent had already begun reading, his expression shifting from interest to open contempt.
"So, his official businesses," he murmured. "Donations to orphanages… support for women's shelters… funding for the mayor… profits from his automobile trade…"
He flipped through the pages, his voice sharpening.
"Environmental projects. Urban beautification. What a pathetic circus."
Noctis nodded.
"He puts a lot of effort into appearing untouchable. No one goes after him openly. And most have no idea what really happens behind closed doors."
Vincent finally set the documents aside, arranging them neatly.
"Alright," he said calmly. "So, to summarize: he's slowly stepping out of his comfort zone again, expanding his operations, and testing how far he can go."
His gaze lifted.
"Anything else?"
"He had me take out some men from the Viper Syndicate, and there were a few contracts to kill Websters," he continued. "You can probably guess which jobs I chose to ignore."
Vincent set the papers aside.
"Those Viper Syndicate bastards really are a problem."
Noctis looked at him intently, then stepped closer. His voice dropped slightly.
"Do you remember someone named Levi?"
"Levi?" Vincent frowned faintly, clearly searching his memory. "Doesn't ring a—"
He stopped. A brief flicker of recognition.
"Oh. That bastard. The one we were looking for back then, after he nearly killed Isaac?"
"Exactly," Noctis nodded.
Vincent leaned forward slightly, his interest now unmistakable.
"What about him? He's not still alive, is he?" A thin, unfriendly smile spread across his face. "If he is, I still have a score to settle."
Noctis pushed himself off the desk and began to pace slowly through the room. His steps were calm, but restless.
"He seems to have ended up with the Viper Syndicate," he said. "I interrogated someone a few days ago. His name came up."
He paused briefly, looking Vincent straight in the eye.
"Can you follow up on that?"
Vincent's expression tightened slightly.
"Does this have anything to do with the boss? We don't have many people we can spare for long-term operations right now, as you know."
Noctis rubbed the back of his neck. "Damn."
Vincent studied him sharply.
"It's about Isaac."
Noctis's jaw tightened.
"Yes, damn it," he growled quietly. "Levi is in the city. And he's started reaching out for him again with his filthy hands."
His voice turned colder.
"He's already tried to kidnap Isaac—and as if that wasn't enough, Isaac now knows he's here."
Vincent straightened slightly.
"What is Isaac doing at the moment?"
Noctis ran a hand over his face, visibly irritated.
"He's stuck in his apartment." A bitter snort. "Shot, as you already know."
Vincent slowly rubbed his face.
"Is he at least somewhat alright?"
"No." The answer came immediately. "He's in pain. And still working nonstop." Noctis's gaze darkened. "The boss is sending him on the next heist in a week and a half."
A brief moment, the weight of the words settling.
"I asked him to run away with me. But he's as stubborn as ever."
Vincent gave a slight nod, as if he had expected nothing else. "That sounds like him. So he's going through with it?"
Noctis nodded. Annoyed, he dragged a hand over his face. "I'll be going into the museum that day as well. I can't leave him alone, Vin. Not in his condition," he said quietly.
Vincent was silent for a moment. "I thought the boss guarded him like a prized possession."
Noctis's gaze hardened. "He did. As long as Isaac did exactly what was expected of him."
He stepped closer to the table, bracing both hands against it.
"He's now done two things the boss didn't like. Among other things, he killed two members of the Viper Syndicate himself when they tried to abduct him."
Vincent gave a slight shrug. "I don't entirely see the problem. You kill their people on his orders all the time."
Noctis lifted his gaze, his eyes cool.
"I think the boss either wants to turn Isaac completely into his puppet—because of his magic. Or he wants to get rid of him, now that he's starting to act more independently."
When Noctis thought about it, the idea wasn't even that far-fetched. Thanks to Isaac, he had accumulated more than enough money to keep his operations running in the shadows for years without issue—and even if he had to lie low for a while, he still had enough to cover the most important salaries.
The boss rarely acted without calculation, so why was he being so aggressive toward Isaac?
Vincent watched him in silence. He tapped a finger against his thigh, seemingly deep in thought.
"Let's assume the first scenario," he said at last. "Then I'd say it's a disciplinary measure—to keep Isaac exactly where the boss has always had him."
"Under his heel?" Noctis asked irritably. He rubbed the short hair at the back of his neck. "I wish he weren't so submissive toward him."
"Well, from the boss's perspective, that's the ideal situation. You can plan best with people who obey and blindly carry out every order you give them. His method now is probably to add a layer of fear—so Isaac binds himself to him."
Noctis paced back and forth. Vincent's words made sense, but something still didn't quite add up for him.
"Alright, let's assume that. That still leaves the question of why Levi knows about Isaac—and especially about his abilities."
"We'll find that out," Vincent replied calmly. "Until then, you should stay by Isaac's side."
Noctis let out a quiet snort. "As if that were up for debate. No one lays a hand on him as long as I'm around." A sharp grin flashed across his face. "Who do you think makes sure he doesn't work himself into the ground?"
Vincent looked at him, amused. "Will I be invited to the wedding?"
Noctis grinned. "I was hoping you'd be our flower girl."
"Don't challenge me—I'll be the best flower girl you've ever seen," Vincent replied with a grin.
Noctis's gaze slid deliberately over his brother's broad, muscular build. The image that came to mind was so absurd that he couldn't suppress a brief, genuine laugh.
"Isaac would look so utterly dumbfounded that I almost want to make it happen," he laughed. "Though it'll probably take a while before anything like that could even happen."
Vincent leaned back in his chair and crossed one leg over the other, watching him with interest.
"I'll do it—if you invite the cop. I just can't forget those blue eyes," he said, a faintly dreamy look in his expression.
Noctis's grin sharpened, almost turning vicious.
"Gladly. I just haven't hurt him enough yet," he said. "Once I'm done with him, you'll have plenty of fun."
"Very good."
Then Vincent motioned for Noctis to come closer. He gathered the papers and photos Noctis had brought and replaced them with several profile pictures and short analyses. Five in total.
"I want you to kill these four. Mox will take the last one."
Noctis's gaze moved over the images. He picked up each one, reading through their roles. There was the boss's caretaker, one of his favorite prostitutes—who occasionally earned extra by handling some of his street business—his cook, and one of his guards.
Everything was precisely documented: how they usually spent their day, how they were meant to die, where they should be found, and in what condition.
Noctis's eyes fell on the last photo. He picked it up.
So it's time…
"Can that idiot even handle it?" he asked at last, without looking up.
Vincent nodded calmly. "He'll do his part. You know how good he is as a sniper."
Noctis let out a quiet snort and set the photo back down.
"Shame. A few of them are actually quite nice. Well—except Lucinda. That scheming bitch has been playing her games for far too long."
He put the photo aside and pocketed the other four.
"I told you—we're heading toward the end. I need to position a few men inside the estate."
Noctis rubbed his eyes, exhausted. "Alright. I'll have them dead by next Monday. I'll let you know in time so you can take the necessary steps."
"Thank you, little brother," Vincent said. He stood up and walked over to him. "Keep Saturday evening free. I'd like to go out for a drink with you and Isaac. He'll probably appreciate getting out of the apartment."
A faint smile slipped onto Noctis's lips. "You do realize he doesn't exactly like you?"
"In that case, you'll just come out with me alone. I want to have a bit of fun before work ties me down completely."
"I'll ask him as soon as I get home," Noctis promised.
Though he could already picture Isaac's reaction clearly.
His gaze drifted to a photo hanging on the wall. It lingered there a moment too long, something almost wistful in it.
"Not much longer, little brother," Vincent said, wrapping an arm around Noctis and pulling him closer before ruffling his hair.
"Hey! Cut it out!" Noctis exhaled slowly and crossed his arms over his chest. "When we've gotten through all of this, I expect one hell of a feast—and if we can't drink ourselves senseless for at least a week, I'll be very disappointed."
Vincent laughed. "You'll get everything you want."
"Perfect," Noctis said, handing him a folded piece of paper.
"What's this?"
"A wish you're going to grant me—because I'm your beloved little brother."
Vincent unfolded the note and broke into a wide grin. "Alright. I'll take care of it."
"I expect nothing less than the very best." Noctis glanced at his watch. "Anything else? I should get going."
"That's all for now. I'll see you on Sunday," Vincent said.
In a good mood, Noctis stretched, then shot his brother an amused look.
"Next time, we meet outside," he remarked. "You're paler than your wallpaper."
Vincent rolled his eyes, though he still smiled. "Stop being annoying and do your job." Then he raised a brow. "Besides, your beloved is much paler than I am."
Noctis grinned and blew him an exaggerated kiss as he turned toward the door.
"Yeah. And it suits him a lot better."
He opened the door, paused for a moment, and added, "If you don't want to look like a corpse next to that annoying cop, you might want to do something about it."
Vincent made a brief face—but that alone was enough for Noctis to finally leave.
He checked his messages.
Apparently, his beloved had developed a craving for cake. In that case, he'd gladly grant him that wish before heading home.
___
When he arrived at the café, his gaze immediately fell on Kieran behind the counter. The warm light reflected off the cups he was just putting away, and when the doorbell chimed softly, he looked up. A genuine, almost familiar smile spread across his face as soon as he recognized Noctis.
"Noctis! A truly rare pleasure to see you here," the café owner greeted him, sliding a few cups into the dishwasher with practiced ease.
"Hey, Kieran," he replied as he stepped inside, the door falling shut behind him. His gaze swept the room, assessing the few guests scattered across the tables, before settling back on Kieran. "Is Shrimp here?"
Kieran blinked in confusion, then let out a quiet laugh. "You mean Noah? He's serving right now. Should be back here any moment."
"Perfect. I'll wait here then." Without hesitation, Noctis slid onto one of the stools at the counter, resting his arms casually on the wooden surface. "Can you make me two coffees to go? And… if you've got something good for cake, I'll take some of that too."
Kieran paused briefly and looked at him with open curiosity. "You eat cake?" A knowing smile flickered across his lips, as if he already had a suspicion. "Who's the second order for?"
"Isaac," Noctis replied without hesitation.
After all, Kieran knew they spent a lot of time together. It wasn't exactly a secret—and he didn't have to tell him they were a couple. Still, Kieran gave him that look, the kind that made it clear their relationship was no secret anymore.
Noctis tilted his head, studying him with interest.
"How do you know?" he asked, curious.
Had he really been that obvious?
Well, he had made a point of it—leaving marks on Isaac's body that were easy to notice. People were meant to see that the man was already taken.
Kieran winked at him. "Don't forget who you're talking to," he said with a smirk.
With practiced movements, he began preparing the coffees. Noctis hadn't specified the order, yet Kieran made it exactly the way Isaac liked it.
Noctis suppressed a faint smile.
Of course he'd notice.
A soft hiss from the machine filled the room as the scent of freshly ground coffee spread, thickening the air pleasantly.
"How is he?" Kieran asked casually at last, without looking up as he poured the milk foam with precision.
Noctis watched him in silence for a moment. Before he could answer, Kieran raised a hand and tapped meaningfully against his right ear.
"He rarely wears long earrings," he explained calmly. "And the one he's been wearing almost every day lately looks suspiciously like the one you used to have." A glint appeared in his eyes. "Am I right?"
The corner of Noctis's mouth twitched. "Good detective work. I'll give you that." He leaned slightly against the counter, his posture relaxed, almost casual. "He's… as well as can be expected, given the circumstances."
Kieran let out a quiet sigh, as if he had anticipated that exact answer. "So he's not resting. Figures."
"You know him," Noctis replied dryly. "Sitting still isn't exactly his thing. He always needs something to keep him occupied."
"That's true."
With practiced ease, Kieran placed the finished coffee cups on the counter and reached for a cardboard tray, his gaze already drifting toward the display case.
The small bell above the door chimed. Noctis ignored it. Instead, he looked over the cakes as well. As always, Kieran had a wide selection—different flavors, different styles.
He chose an artfully decorated slice with cream and dark chocolate for Isaac, and for himself a piece of strawberry sponge cake.
Kieran gave a short nod and began placing the slices carefully onto the tray.
"At least make sure he occupies himself with something other than his canvas once in a while," he remarked casually.
Noctis let out a quiet, almost amused snort. "Who do you think you're talking to?" His voice took on a faintly mocking tone. "His current assignment puts him under so much pressure that I practically have to push him to the brink of exhaustion just to get him to switch off for a bit."
Beside him, someone suddenly choked on a cough.
Noctis cast a brief glance to the side—and found himself looking straight at the cop, who seemed to have nearly choked on his own saliva. His ears were noticeably flushed.
A barely perceptible smile flickered across Noctis's face.
Hmm? This could be amusing.
He turned back to Kieran as if nothing had happened.
"You know, all that time in front of the canvas leaves his shoulders so tense that I really have to give it my all to relax him," Noctis added, a touch louder this time, with an exaggerated sigh.
Kieran nodded in agreement at first, not questioning it. "That sounds exactly like Isaac. Once he gets absorbed in something, he tends to overdo it."
A cheeky grin spread across his lips as he cast a sideways glance at the cop, who quickly looked away in embarrassment.
There was definitely room to push this a little further.
"He doesn't just try to be perfect in official matters—if you know what I mean."
Kieran frowned briefly, then understanding dawned. A quiet laugh escaped him. "I'm glad you're having a good time together, but don't overdo it," he said, amused.
"Me? Never," Noctis replied in an innocent tone.
Now he looked at the cop openly. The man noticed—and in that instant, Noctis saw everything. The embarrassment, the anger… and that unmistakable jealousy. He looked at him like a man who knew he had already lost.
At least Noctis had gained something from it—showing him the illusion of Isaac's beauty, completely bare.
"Well, it's hard to stop when he gives himself to me completely. You know the feeling too, don't you, Kieran?"
But Noctis's gaze remained fixed on the cop.
The cop pressed his lips together, his posture visibly tensing.
Kieran, on the other hand, remained unfazed. "Oh, I know exactly what you mean. Just last weekend, I went on a date with this beauty. I swear, Noctis, I've never seen a woman with such a perfectly shaped body," he replied, a little dreamily.
Noctis held the cop's gaze for another moment, a hint of triumph in his expression, before turning back to Kieran.
"Well, what's this?" he smirked. "Has our eternal bachelor finally fallen in love?" he asked slyly.
"Maybe," Kieran grinned. He placed the order on the counter and waved it off when Noctis tried to pay. "It's on the house. Give him my regards, alright? I'll be glad when he's back here."
"I'll pass it on."
Noctis had just reached for the bag when there was movement beside him. Kieran smiled and began serving the cop.
"Noctis! What are you doing here?!" Noah called out cheerfully.
With a smile, Noctis ruffled Noah's hair. "Just came to check on you—and to ask if you and Ashe want to stop by on Friday. I want to see Isaac drunk again, and no one does that better than you."
Noah's eyes lit up instantly. "Really?! Of course I'll come! What time should we be there? Should I bring anything?"
Noctis shook his head. "No. Just text me what you need. The evening's on me." A faint grin crossed his face. "And make sure our genius actually tears herself away from her laptop."
Noah waved it off casually.
"Not a problem," he grinned. "We were planning to visit Isaac anyway, but he hasn't replied yet."
Right—his phone was still broken. He really needed to get a new one.
"He's working," Noctis said thoughtfully. Then he ruffled Noah's hair again. "Good thing we had the same idea."
Noctis picked up the bag. If he kept chatting with Noah, the coffee would be cold before he got back to Isaac.
"Just come by around eight on Friday."
He could clearly see Noah's excitement.
It's a shame you're his son.
"We'll be there!" Noah promised.
Noctis gave him a small smile, then clapped him on the shoulder before giving Kieran a quick wave. "Thanks for the coffee and cake. I owe you one."
"I'll hold you to that," Kieran replied while ringing up the cop. "See you soon, Noctis."
Noctis was already heading for the exit.
But as he passed the cop, he slowed just slightly. His shoulder brushed against the other man's—just enough that it couldn't be ignored. The cop looked up.
Noctis leaned in just a fraction, his voice barely more than a whisper.
"I hope you enjoyed the little show the other day."
"Damn you—" the cop began, but before he could finish, Noctis had already stepped outside, humming softly.
One problem less. Three to go, he thought, in a good mood.
That left the issue of the upcoming heist, how to finally free Isaac from the boss—and that damned Levi.
Each one was a serious nuisance on its own. But he had already diverted the police away from Isaac. If the heist succeeded—and their attempt on the boss as well—then Isaac would finally be his.
And then, perhaps, they would be able to enjoy their time together.