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The next half hour was pure insanity.

The police were hostile and didn’t seem inclined to let either of us leave, no matter how much I insisted we weren’t involved. I explained we were here at Mr. Ragu’s request and didn’t know the details of what had gone down.

Meanwhile, Damien huddled in a corner, fighting off the effects of his heat wave. His scent filled the air, putting some of the officers visibly on edge. I felt awful for making him endure this.

Fortunately, Blue Lowen came through as soon as he regained consciousness. One call to someone on the city council, and things finally started moving. The lead officer took the call, and after a tense conversation, they begrudgingly allowed us to leave.

We made a quick stop in the guest bathroom to rinse off the blood, then moved to the second room, locking the door behind us.

Damien was flushed and breathing hard, the heat wave fully taking hold.

"Crazy, crazy day," he muttered, laying paper towels over the sofa.

I draped my suit over a chair. As I did, Damien's eyes drifted to my chest. "The wounds," he murmured. "We should clean them. Could we ask them for some disinfectant?"

I looked down. A dozen or so dark purple bruises were spread across my chest, near my solar plexus and collarbones, each with a bloody puncture mark in the center.

"There's no need, they're closing up already. I regenerate quickly, so the wounds don’t even have time to get infected."

Damien approached me, his face full of concern. His delicate fingers brushed over one of the wounds, barely grazing the skin.

"Does it hurt?" His dark graphite-and-sapphire eyes lifted to mine.

"Not much," I said softly. "I can handle it." I placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder, and Damien trembled at the touch. Like I’d cast a spell, he leaned forward, resting his forehead against my chest near the injuries.

"Are you tired? After such an adrenaline rush?"

"Not really, the rut helps to nullify the exhaustion."

"No regular alpha would survive this," he whispered. "They would be dead on the spot."

"I told you—I’m pretty hard to kill."

"Is it painful when the bone plates shift under your skin?"

"A bit," I admitted with a faint smile. "But it happens quickly, like an explosion. The pain doesn’t last long."

"I can't help but be amazed at how those bones can take it. I mean… the bullets are fast, and the points are sharp."

"Well, they aren’t like regular human bones, as you surely know. Neither are yours, by the way. They’re made of dense mineral prisms and collagen fibrils. Very tough, very resilient."

"We really are different, aren’t we?"

"We are." I paused, letting my gaze soften. "I’m glad you weren’t scared when you saw me like that—in my… monster form."

Damien tilted his head up, meeting my eyes. "No. Not in the slightest. And… you're not a monster on the inside. That's the only thing that matters."

For a moment, we just stared at each other. Then my gaze dropped to his mouth, naturally pouty in its soft curve. Slowly, I let my finger brush against his lower lip.

"You're such an electrifying, cute little omega," I murmured, smirking.

"Are you gonna stick your dick in this electrifying omega?" Damien asked playfully.

"Wow, straight to the point! You bet I will. Let's put this…um… plug into the electrical outlet."

The cringy talk was back in full force, but Damien loved it, and not only that…

***

An hour later, when the wave was finally under control, Damien and I left the room.

Unfortunately, the police were still on-site, securing the crime scene. There was also a team collecting—probably—explosive residue samples, at least that’s what I guessed they were doing. They wore specialized suits and were combing through the rubble in the corner of the conference room.

Mr. Ragu was still there, sitting on a stretcher and talking to an officer while a medic tended to his scratches. Thankfully, they weren’t too many or too serious.

In the background, I spotted Jun Ragu discussing something with one of the officers.

Jordan was nowhere to be seen, but Blue Lowen was still present, his pale sapphire eyes locking onto us as we approached.

"How’s it going, Uncle?" Damien asked.

"How do you think?" Blue replied with a sigh. "The whole team that attacked us has been apprehended. Thankfully, Detective Arnold is on the case now. We might have something solid to work with. During the previous attacks, the perpetrators always slipped away—it was all done very professionally and very… remotely," he added with a tinge of bitterness.

"But surely there were leads—some evidence pointing to the Ferro family?" Damien pressed.

"There were," Blue admitted, "but the police were dragging their feet, collecting evidence too slowly. This time, though, they have witnesses. Those guys will definitely talk. Not all of them are mafia soldiers—some will want to save their own skins by throwing the others under the bus."

"Why’d they choose this place?" Damien glanced around.

I snorted in amusement. "Even I can answer that. Mr. Ragu underestimated the seriousness of the situation, thinking that since the meeting was secret, the secrecy alone would be enough to keep them safe. I warned him it could be an assassination attempt, but he shrugged it off, thinking the worst that could happen was sabotage aimed at his business."

Blue grimaced bitterly. "Well, once again, I’ve learned the hard way that I can’t trust anyone in my security detail. Evidently, my bodyguards were bought off too. No one knew about this meeting—I didn’t inform anyone. I arranged everything directly with Mr. Ragu, but clearly, some of them got an offer… they couldn’t refuse."

He waved his hand dismissively, the bitterness still saturating his tone. "Sooner or later, they’ll get me anyway."

"Maybe not," Damien said softly, his voice full of empathy. "If this detective of yours has solid evidence, the police could raid that mafia boss’s headquarters and finally arrest him. The charges would be pretty sound!"

Blue still looked unconvinced. "Maybe. But when it comes to this mafia family, their leadership is so spread out. Anzo’s nephews all have their own operations. Even if you cut off one head of the organization, the others won’t go down so easily."

"Then you need better security," I said, spreading my hands.

Blue let out a dry laugh. "Volunteering? A purple alpha like you might actually get the job done."

"Sorry, not my line of work," I said with a smirk, coughing meaningfully. "I'm in the business of finding True Mates."

Blue made a sound somewhere between a laugh and a scoff. "Good luck with that. I’ve been in the business of True Mate hunting for years, and it’s not as easy as you think. There are no clear genetic markers."

I grinned triumphantly. "I'm not talking about genetics, but about intuition."

Blue gave me a look I couldn’t quite decipher—disbelief, irritation, or maybe even amusement.

"That’d have to be real magic to pull something like that off," he said in a tone that tried to sound diplomatic but didn’t quite hit the mark.

"Sometimes, I even manage it on the spot," I shot back, my gaze boring into his.

The number of skeptics I dealt with on a daily basis was getting a bit old.

Damien glanced at me, curious, as if he wasn’t sure what I was getting at.

"You trying to tell me something?" Blue raised an eyebrow.

"All I’m saying," I replied, "is that you might want to show up at the next open fair hosted by Fate’s Choice in two weeks."

"I don’t attend events like that. And I’m not looking for my TM. I’m a skeptic about the whole concept. Relationships aren’t everything. There are plenty of other fulfilling things in life," Blue said, his tone haughty.

I gave him a pointed look. It sounded like he was trying to rationalize his situation, but that wasn’t my business.

"Well, suit yourself. But I’ll just say this—you might find someone there who could also help you with your security issues."

I froze for a moment, blinking. Where had that come from? It felt like I’d been in a trance.

Blue and Damien both stared at me, as though I’d suddenly started speaking another language.

"Right. Well, I think it’s time for us to go," I said quickly, attempting to smooth things over. "Of course, we’ll show up for questioning at the scheduled time."

Blue adjusted his glasses. "Most of what happened is already recorded. Thankfully, that electrical surge didn’t fry the circuits in my glasses. Everything is uploaded to the cloud, and the police will have access to it."

"You were recording all this?" I asked.

"Of course. I record everything around me—it’s just common sense when you’ve survived over a dozen assassination attempts." And he winced.

"Fair enough," I muttered, suddenly feeling like my life was a breeze compared to his.

"I hope you catch that mafia boss," Damien added sympathetically.

"Me too," Blue said with a sigh. "Detective Arnold is new, but he’s thorough—unlike the others, who I suspect were bought off. He’s digging in hard, so maybe we’ll finally see some results."

"I wish you luck, Uncle. We’ll be on our way now."

"Thank you," Blue said with a faint smile. "I’m sorry my problems dragged you into this, but I appreciate your help. You’ll see soon enough—I know how to show my gratitude."

Whatever that meant.

***