Chapter 6

In the end, I went with Angel alone to the airport after having transferred flights. A quick pilot replacement was all well and good, but the fact that my flight schedule was already disclosed to outsiders meant such a replacement was only useful as a diversion.

Had this been an earlier time, back when I was younger and my position in the group were a little more tenuous at best, perhaps I would have scrapped the entire schedule and either stayed where I was to find the rats myself, or rearranged everything down to the smallest detail with the kind of paranoia found in a person used to living on the run. A time when I was still running on pure adrenaline, the thrill of survival still a delicious thing, and mother and father had yet to bequeath the organization to me.

I was older now. I liked to believe I was a little wiser even if I was still, in my rare moments, looking for the thrill of the chase. It couldn't be helped; I wouldn't be the Marcella Brant that my parents chose if I liked the thrill any less.

I looked up at Angel from where I was sat on an airport bench. She was dressed down like I was; in a casual button-up and slacks, looking the image of a well-to-do woman out for some sightseeing, and yet, not so out of place that she'd be ogled at in the same way she would be back at home.

Warsaw was a different place from Manila, after all. I, at least, looked the part enough to not be seen as too foreign when alone, but her and Sasha were too glaringly different that it was no wonder they caught people's eyes so easily.

Still.

The color of my skin, my eyes, and my hair wouldn't save me from the reality that I would be perceived strangely so long as I was accompanied by my people. My people, who were built in a way that they felt larger than life, with all the air and confidence of those in power.

For all that the country was a hotbed of crime and corruption, it seemed I was still too young, too much of a woman, to look like the head of an organization built from spilt blood.

I hid a smile behind my hand just thinking about it.

People were so cute, thinking their prejudice would mean anything in the face of their own mortality.

But that wasn't important right now.

I tapped a finger against my chin, looking up at Angel again. "How long are they going to take?"

"Five minutes," Angel confirmed, giving me a glimpse of her phone screen and, subsequently, her private messages with some of our available agents. Agents who, despite their current corporate work in our Warsaw office, were also trained to serve as guards should the need arise.

They were also very sweet people the last I met them, which was a funny thought considering how formal and polite they'd been on the first meeting. It likely helped break the ice when they realized that I could speak a bit of Polish.

"Hah..."

I breathed out a sigh as I watched the people passing by. Children with their parents, couples, a mix of adults and teenagers walking alone or in groups—average people, people who likely had no idea of how much more cruel the world could be, given the chance.

People I found entertaining, like little mice who cluelessly followed food without knowing it would lead to their deaths. How differently they thought, how innocent they were, not knowing that people were dying right under their noses.

I hummed a soft tune as I sat in my seat. Angel was still busy scanning the area as she stood by me, though that sharp gaze was cut short when she looked away to check her phone.

"Wouldn't it be nice if I could just find someone easily," I murmured, gaze lingering on a passing family through the departures area. "Is it too much to ask for a good man?"

"A good man would be impossible, with you."

"Cyril is a good man," I pointed out, giving Angel a look. She just frowned back, seeming unconvinced. So I added, "Sasha is as well. My father, and the other directors...they're decent men, even after considering what they do for a living."

"...what, exactly, constitutes goodness for you? How is it any different from a nice man?"

"A good man," I began to say, leaning back into my seat, "would let me take care of him."

"..."

"Follows my orders well, listens to me without having to be told to do so, and doesn't need my Alpha pheromones to kneel," I enumerated, counting down from my pinky finger to my thumb. "An obedient puppy."

Angel squinted at me from where she was standing. "Are you looking for a husband, or a dog?"

"Both works."

"You're incorrigible. There's no such man in the world."

"Oh, I wouldn't be too sure about that," I said, watching as a man—older than me, with silver hair slicked back and a gaze so deep one would think they contained the ocean—stepped out from the moving crowd of people waiting on their bags. His every step was sleek, his clothes, sophisticated; one would wonder if he were actually a model doing a photoshoot at the airport. It didn't help any that the young woman following after him had flaming red hair, instinctively directing one's eyes to the both of them.

When the older man stopped before me, he held out a hand, palm up, in an unspoken request for my own hand.

This would never get old, honestly. It was such a small thing, but it was enough to make me smile as I placed my hand in his hold.

Like that, he left a light kiss to my knuckles without once turning his gaze away from my eyes. In smooth, liquid-velvet tones, he spoke in Polish, "It's been a while, Marcella."

Similarly in Polish, I said, "Agreed, Oskar." I gave his hand a squeeze right before he released me from his hold. "Did you find anything?"

He shook his head. "No, unfortunately. They might have caught up to the fact that it was a diversion and retreated quickly. The others are still keeping an eye out, however." Then, with a soft smile and an elbow offered up to me, he said, "Shall we? I'm sure you'll be needing the rest after that flight."

"Well."

I glanced over at Angel, only to find her already speaking with Oskar's companion, their heads bowed together as they looked over something on their phones. Behind them were two other men in casual attire, both of them making quick work of picking up our bags and placing them on a luggage cart for easy transport.

A soft huff of a laugh slipped out from my mouth. Five minutes, was it? They certainly were efficient.

"We shall," I said, smiling as I took his elbow to support myself to a stand. I rested my other hand over his forearm, allowing myself to lean into him as he led us away to the car that would be taking us to our hotel. He was a gentleman through and through even until now, one wouldn't even think he was working for any unsavoury businesses.

Unfortunately, he was one of mine.

"How's the wife?" I asked, smiling as I remembered that small and cute partner of his. Renia, his wife whom I'd known for just as long as I knew him, was adorable and just as fierce as a tiny dog aware of how big the world was in comparison to its own size.

Oskar laughed. The wide grin on his face made him look younger than he was—highlighting the brightness of his eyes, the softness of his cheeks—bringing out a charm that would have an aesthete crying tears of joy. Happily, he said, "She's as stunning and fierce as ever. I'm proud to say that our first child took after her, both in beauty and attitude."

"Oh? You lucky bastard."

"I really am. Speaking of which, I know someone—"

Here it was, the matchmaking. Ever since the man found the love of his life, he'd always made it his duty to get everyone else coupled up in the belief that it would bring unending happiness.

It would have been appreciated given my current plight, but...

"I'm not interested in someone younger than me," I said, interrupting him before he could go into a long speech on the merits of the stranger he'd like to introduce to me.

He raised a brow in interest. "Not even five years?"

Ah, if only the matches he gave were to my tastes. Alas.

I shook my head. "My taste is like this, unfortunately."

"A pity. My nephew is rather handsome, you know."

"If he looks anything like you, then I'm sure that's true."

The wide smile on his face spoke of pride, and immense pleasure at being praised. I glanced over at Angel again, hoping she was seeing this, and found her already looking over with an unamused look on her face.

I made an attempt to communicate my thoughts to her using my wide eyes. 'This is the kind of man I'm talking about, Angel. They clearly exist!'

Angel shot a glare back as if to say, 'Cease your foolishness, Marcella.'

Spoilsport.

"Though you're here for business, it's still good that you visited," said Oskar, catching my attention again. "My wife and daughter would love to see you. You can spare some time before the inspection, yes?"

I smiled at him. "Well, if it's meeting with Renia and the kid, who am I to say no?"

"Dinner, then? The day after?"

"That works. Angel?"

Angel nodded, having been listening in on our conversation. "Dinner works."

Light conversation followed after that. It was already far too late for me to eat and I was more tired than hungry; when we were dropped off at the hotel, the bath I took in my shared room with Angel was a quick one before I immediately went to bed.

Sleep didn't come that easily, however.

"Should I do it?" I asked, staring at nothing as I lied in bed. It was late, and my body was tired. Still, my mind would not rest.

People were out to kill me, kidnap me, and do god knows what to me all because of who I was, but all I could think about was my own impatience. My Alpha, growling in frustration that it was taking so long to find the right mate, the right partner who would give me the child I wanted.

What was taking so long? Why couldn't I find them? I was the best Alpha one could ask for if one ignored my origins; I could take care of children, I could take care of my people, and I fostered loyalty with ease. I did well in protecting my pack, so what was wrong?

What more was missing?

Angel, who'd come out from the bathroom while drying her hair, asked me, "Do what, exactly?"

"Should I just wait for my mate to come to me, like Cyril said? Should I just take this as a vacation and let things happen?"

"...Marcella."

"It's frustrating, is all," I admitted, rubbing at my weary eyes. "I'm not someone who waits. It's not in my nature. I've even tried those juvenile dating apps just to see if that would help, but now..."

"You're..."

I lowered my hands to watch Angel, who came closer to sit on her bed right next to mine.

She said, "You're really serious about this."

Was that not clear since the start? Was my determination not obvious enough? "I was always serious, Angel."

"I see."

We didn't say anything for a moment, the heavy silence settling in the room like a thick, suffocating blanket as we waited for each other to speak.

Then,

"You could tell me your ideal type. All the physical qualities you want, I'll find them."

I smiled in amusement up at her. "Was that not what you were already doing?"

"I'm going to kidnap them if I have to."

I burst into a laugh. "You must be joking."

When I turned my head to look at her, she was not smiling. There was no hint of teasing on her face, no trace of the words being a joke from her serious eyes, and I became quiet. Oh.

"I'd rather not," I said, rubbing a hand over my face with a sigh. "I need the father of my future child to consent to the entire thing. My Alpha, and my child, will feel it if they're rejected. I could deal with it alone but I'd rather not have my child go through that."

"That's oddly kind of you."

"Manipulation is so much easier than outright kidnapping," I scoffed. "That much should be obvious already."

Angel let out an incredulous laugh at my words. "I suppose there was that. Then, what if they find out that you weren't as sane as you first seemed?"

"A problem for the future me."

"How irresponsible."

"It is what it is," I shrugged, before rolling over to lie on my side so I could face her completely. "How about we make a bet?"

Those thin brows of hers drew together in a confused furrow. "A bet."

"Let's see if I find my mate before this trip ends. I'm betting I will, and if I win, you're going to wear that dress I told you would look cute on you."

The bemusement on Angel's face was immediately replaced with the grave horror of someone who had just been told they only had one week to live. This woman called me dramatic, and yet? How hypocritical.

"If you win and I don't find anyone, I'll do anything you want," I added, eyeing her face for a reaction. "Even if that means taking that break you seem to think I need even when I'm functioning fine as is."

Her blue eyes widened.

It didn't take long for them to gleam with the kind of brightness I usually only saw whenever she got to personally torture someone she abhorred—and that? That didn't happen that often, because she rarely ever put that much time into hating someone.

"Deal," she said quickly, smirk wide on her fair face. "I'm holding you to it, Marcella."

...ah, shit. I'd done it now.

That mate of mine better come out before I leave Europe entirely, because having a bet with Angel? It had the potential of becoming more dangerous than fighting weaponless against a hulking man with a knife and gun.

And that was putting it lightly.