MEETING HIM

Chapter ten: The Hunt Begins

Alex's POV

Alex strode into the room, carrying a tray of breakfast balanced carefully in his hands. A rare softness touched his expression as he envisioned her sleepy smile upon waking up. But the moment he stepped inside, he froze.

The bed was empty. The duvet he'd so carefully tucked around her earlier was haphazardly thrown to the side. The faint scent of her perfume lingered in the air, but she was gone.

Alex set the tray down on the nightstand, his movements slow and deliberate as his mind raced. Where the hell was she? His eyes scanned the room, noting the absence of her bag, her clothes—everything. It didn’t take long for the realization to sink in.

She had left.

His chest tightened, a mix of anger and worry flooding his system. Did she leave because she regretted last night? Had he pushed her too far? He replayed the moments they’d shared in his mind, searching for any sign of hesitation or discomfort. But no—she’d trusted him. She’d given herself to him fully. Her tears, her submission, her whispered pleas—they had all been genuine.

So why the hell would she run?

Alex clenched his fists, his jaw tightening. If she thought she could walk away from him so easily, she was mistaken. Natacha belonged to him, whether she realized it or not. And he'd make damn sure she understood that.

But first, he had other matters to handle.

---

Alex stormed into his office, the atmosphere inside heavy and tense. Nat, his second-in-command, was already waiting for him, casually leaning against the edge of the desk with his arms crossed.

“She’s gone,” Alex growled before Nat could say a word.

Nat raised an eyebrow, his expression unreadable. “Didn’t take her long, did it?”

Alex shot him a glare that could have frozen fire. “Not the time, Nat.”

“Fine,” Nat replied, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “What’s the plan? You want me to track her down?”

Alex shook his head, pacing the room. “I’ll deal with her later. There’s too much going on right now. We’ve got that mess with the bagman to clean up.” His tone was clipped, his focus shifting to the more immediate threat to their operations.

The betrayal by one of their own wasn’t just an inconvenience—it was a direct challenge to Alex’s authority. And Alex didn’t tolerate challenges.

“Do we have him?” he asked, his voice cold and sharp.

Nat nodded, a grin spreading across his face. “Picked him up last night. He’s in the basement.”

Alex's lips curled into a smirk, but there was no humor in it. “Good. Let’s go remind him what happens to traitors.”

---

The basement was dark and damp, the air thick with the scent of mildew and fear. The bagman—an older man named Rico—was slumped in a chair, his hands tied behind his back and his face already bruised from the initial "introduction" his captors had given him.

Alex stepped into the room, his presence immediately commanding attention. Rico’s head snapped up, his eyes widening in terror as Alex approached.

“Boss, please,” Rico stammered, his voice trembling. “I didn’t mean to—”

“Spare me the excuses,” Alex interrupted, his tone icy. He circled the chair slowly, his gaze never leaving Rico. “You stole from me, Rico. You thought I wouldn’t notice? Or did you think I’d let it slide?”

Rico shook his head frantically. “No, no, it’s not like that! I was gonna pay it back, I swear—”

Alex stopped in front of him, leaning down until their faces were inches apart. “You don’t get to steal from me and live to tell the tale.”

The room fell silent, the weight of Alex’s words settling over everyone present. Rico’s breathing grew ragged, panic overtaking him.

“Nat,” Alex said calmly, straightening up. “Get the tools.”

Nat nodded, disappearing for a moment before returning with a small metal case. He set it on a nearby table, opening it to reveal a collection of implements designed for persuasion—or punishment.

Alex picked up a pair of pliers, turning them over in his hands as if examining a fine piece of art. “Now, Rico,” he said, his tone almost conversational. “I’m going to give you one chance to tell me everything. Who else is involved? Where’s the money? And don’t even think about lying to me.”

Rico broke almost immediately, the words tumbling out of his mouth in a desperate rush. He named names, gave locations, and even confessed to debts he’d been trying to cover up. By the time he finished, he was shaking, his face pale and drenched in sweat.

Alex listened carefully, his expression unreadable. When Rico was done, Alex handed the pliers back to Nat. “Clean this up,” he ordered, his voice devoid of emotion. “Make sure the others get the message.”

Nat nodded, a gleam of excitement in his eyes. “You got it, boss.”

As Alex turned to leave, Rico’s panicked voice called after him. “Boss! Please! I told you everything! I—”

But Alex didn’t look back. Mercy wasn’t part of his vocabulary—not for traitors.

---

Back in his office, Alex poured himself a glass of whiskey, his mind already shifting back to Natacha. He swirled the amber liquid in the glass, his thoughts a tangled mess of anger, frustration, and something he couldn’t quite name.

She had left him, but she wouldn’t get far. He wouldn’t allow it.

Reaching for his phone, he dialed a number. It rang twice before a familiar voice answered. “Boss?”

“Dmitri,” Alex said, his tone clipped. “I need you to find someone for me. Natacha Dubois. She left the club this morning. I want her location within the hour.”

“Understood,” Dmitri replied without hesitation.

“And Dmitri,” Alex added, his voice lowering. “She’s not to be harmed. Just find her and report back to me.”

“Yes, boss.”

Alex ended the call and leaned back in his chair, his gaze fixed on the ceiling. He hated the idea of delegating this task to someone else, but the demands of his empire left him no choice. There were deals to be closed, territories to secure, and enemies to eliminate. He couldn’t afford to drop everything for her—not yet.

But the moment his schedule allowed, he’d bring her back. And when he did, she wouldn’t be leaving again.

---

The rest of the day passed in a blur of meetings and negotiations. Alex moved through each task with ruthless efficiency, his focus unwavering even as his mind occasionally drifted back to Natacha. He wondered where she was, what she was thinking. Was she scared? Regretful? Or was she planning to disappear completely?

By the time evening rolled around, Dmitri called with an update. “Boss, I’ve got her location. She went back home.”

Alex’s grip on the phone tightened. Of course, she’d run to her father.

“Good,” he said, his voice calm despite the storm brewing inside him. “Keep an eye on her. I don’t want her leaving without me knowing.”

“Understood.”

Alex hung up, a sense of relief washing over him. She was safe—for now. But this wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.

---

As the night deepened, Alex sat alone in his office, the shadows stretching long and dark around him. His glass of whiskey sat untouched on the desk, the ice long since melted. He stared out the window, the city lights twinkling in the distance.

Natacha had stirred something in him, something he couldn’t ignore. She was more than just another conquest, more than a fleeting distraction. She was his. And he would do whatever it took to make her see that.

For now, he’d wait. But when the time came, he’d bring her back into his world—into his arms. And this time, he wouldn’t let her slip away.