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I turned the doorknob but hesitated, glancing back at her one last time.

She had already closed her eyes. Her head tipped back against the chair like the weight of the world had finally settled onto her shoulders.

I slipped out, shutting the door behind me.

The office hummed with quiet efficiency—secretaries tapping away at keyboards, assistants murmuring into phones. I ignored them all. My pulse thudded in my ears as I pressed the elevator button, my grip tightening around the envelope.

I had no idea where to start. But I knew one thing. I needed my nest. Now.

Fallon

February 9th

1:33 P.M

I love my nest. Lying back against the pillows, I feel like I’ve stepped into a dream. The bed is soft and inviting, wrapped in layers of cozy blankets and smooth sheets that feel cool against my skin. A soft green glow bathes the room, casting gentle light across the space, making everything feel calm and weightless.

Above me, tiny lights twinkle like stars woven into the canopy while delicate strands of fairy lights hang down like vines, adding a soft, whimsical touch. The sheer green curtains sway slightly, catching the light from the tall windows, their movement slow and effortless. The floating bed, illuminated from below, makes it feel like I’m resting on a cloud, tucked away from the world.

I sink deeper into the pillows, running my fingers over the different textures, the soft knit of the blankets, and the silky smoothness of the sheets. The contrast between deep black walls and soft greens creates a modern and peaceful space, like a quiet escape designed just for me.

Since I can’t put it off any longer, I start blindly digging through the mountain of blankets and pillows like a raccoon, searching for lost treasure. Blankets fly, pillows get sacrificed, and when I’m convinced the abyss has consumed the envelope, I hear the telltale crinkle of paper.

I found it—the cursed thing.

Coming home a few days ago was mostly a blur—probably because I spent most of it throwing myself into my nest like some tragic Victorian heroine, drowning in a sea of self-pity. I had a full-blown existential crisis, the kind that involved flailing, groaning dramatically, and screaming into multiple pillows like a true professional.

At some point, I must have worn myself out because the next thing I knew, I was waking up to the vague sensation of my mom hovering nearby. I wasn’t fully conscious, but I do recall her lightly patting my head like I was a sulking cat before disappearing into the night.

And now here I am. Face-to-face with the envelope of doom. Again. Sighing, I give up and open it. Pulling out various papers, glancing over them before snorting out an unladylike laugh. It’s information on each member of the pack, but what the fuck is this?

Confidential Dossier: Rosetti Pack

Prepared by: Halloway, Creed & Wilson Law firm

Classification: Highly Confidential – For Internal Use Only

Subject: Rosetti Pack Members

Kingston Rosetti

Age: 35

Designation: Alpha

Height/Build: 6’2”, muscular, commanding presence

Eye Color: Green

Hair Color: Dark brown, neatly styled

Alpha Scent: Fresh rain and pine

Occupation: Owner & Leader of Rosetti Grey Solutions

Profile:

Kingston Rosetti is the leader of the notorious Rosetti pack, well-known in both legitimate and underground circles. Rosetti Grey Solutions operates as a high-end private security and asset protection firm; however, the scope of their activities extends far beyond conventional security, encompassing intimidation, "problem-solving," and asset retrieval of questionable legality.