Page 43 of Mafia King

Nikolai stares at the screen for several seconds. The thought has already formed in his own mind, cold and precise.

He answers with two words. Keep digging.

Nikolai locks the phone and sets it face-down. No judgements yet. Not until he has more.

But from this moment Nikolai resolves he will watch the boy more closely—every reaction, every casual comment, every place his eyes linger when he thinks he is not looking.

Nikolai pushes the unease aside for now and walks into the living room. Theo looks up as his shadow falls across the rug. His smile is immediate and open.

Nikolai lowers himself to the carpet opposite the boy, long legs folding with practiced ease. He picks up the blue dinosaur and makes it hop toward the grey rabbit in exaggerated steps.

Theo laughs, the sound light and genuine, and soon both of them are moving the stuffies around in a wacky, invented story. After a few minutes Nikolai shifts the game…

“Cops and robbers,” Nikolai says, giving the rabbit a stern voice. “This one is a good citizen. But this one is a rat. He’s been informing to the cops. Telling them everything.”

Nikolai watches Theo’s face carefully.

“What should happen to the rat?” Nikolai asks, letting his words hang in the air.

For the briefest moment Theo freezes. The marker in his hand goes still. The boy’s eyes flick to the dinosaur, then back to Nikolai, something unreadable passing through them too quickly to name.

Then Theo breaks into a wide grin, the hesitation gone as if it never existed.

“He should have all his candies for the week confiscated!” Theo declares, reaching over to make the rabbit wag a disapproving paw at the dinosaur. “No sweets until he learns to keep his mouth shut!”

Theo bursts out laughing. The sound is bright and unrestrained. Nikolai laughs with the boy, the sound low and real, even as the quieter part of his mind continues to turn.

The freeze had been short.

Almost nothing.

Yet it had been there.

Nikolai lets the game continue, moving the stuffies through increasingly ridiculous scenarios while Theo’s laughter fills the room.

Outwardly he is present, playful, the Daddy who is learning how to share this softer space.

But inwardly the question remains sharp and unanswered…

Could Theo really be an undercover cop?

The afternoon light shifts another degree across the rug. Nikolai keeps playing, keeps watching, and keeps the new, colder layer of attention carefully hidden behind an easy smile and warm embrace…

Nikolai eases the black town car to the curb a short distance from the grand old bookstore Theo has chosen.

The building rises four stories of weathered stone and tall arched windows, its entrance framed by heavy wooden doors that look as if they have stood for a century.

Inside are narrow staircases, shadowed reading nooks, and entire corners devoted to forgotten first editions and leather-bound histories.

It is the kind of place someone could lose hours in without noticing.

Theo turns in the passenger seat, already reaching for the door handle, a light, almost merry energy in his movements…

“I’m excited!” Theo trills.

“Two hours,” Nikolai says. “I have business in the finance district. I’ll pick you up right here.”

Theo leans across and kisses him—soft, quick, lingering just long enough to taste of the afternoon’s earlier playfulness.