Chapter 6: Like a Man Again
The morning sunlight filtered into the lavish hotel suite like a quiet betrayal. King Albanian stirred beneath the silk sheets, his body unusually… light. Warm. Alive.
For the first time in years, he had slept through the night. No tossing, no insomnia, no cold flashes. Just the lingering scent of soft lavender, like a whisper on his skin. He reached for the warmth beside him—gone.
The sheets were cold.
The girl. The mysterious, soft-spoken woman with drunken eyes and trembling lips. She had vanished.
Before he could think further, the door burst open.
Thud.
In a blur of movement, King rolled off the bed, seized the intruder by the arm, and flipped him face-first into the carpeted floor.
"Dammit!" Wayne's muffled voice groaned. "It's me!"
King released him with a scoff, stepping back with assassin-like grace. "What the hell are you doing barging into my room like that?"
Wayne scrambled to his feet, rubbing his shoulder. "We had a report from hotel security. A woman was seen leaving your room early this morning. I thought you were dead! Poisoned, drugged, stabbed—God, you've been a target so many times I thought—"
"And you think a small woman could take me down?" King raised an eyebrow, annoyed.
Wayne's eyes flicked around. "You weren't answering your phone. You never sleep this long."
King paused, glancing at the bed again. His voice dropped. "I didn't just sleep, Wayne. I rested. For the first time in years."
Wayne blinked. "Because of… her?"
King didn't reply. He ran a hand through his hair and exhaled sharply. "Call Morgan in."
"Your shadow bodyguard?"
"Yes. I want her found."
Wayne opened his mouth to speak again, but King was already walking to the bathroom. As the hot water cascaded over his body, King stared at his reflection. His skin had a healthy flush. His muscles didn't ache like before. His mind, usually clouded, felt sharper.
He touched the side of his neck where her lips had brushed in the dark.
"I feel like a man again," he murmured.
When he returned to the suite, clean and dressed in a crisp charcoal suit, Morgan was already inside. Silent, looming like a ghost in black.
"Find the woman I spent the night with," King ordered. "Discreetly. I want her name, background, everything."
Morgan gave a short nod and disappeared.
Wayne stepped forward hesitantly. "Also… your grandfather has summoned you. Urgently."
King's eyes darkened. "What now?"
"He wants to finalize the next heir to the Albanian legacy. The board is growing restless."
King gave a bitter smirk. "Of course. Kwok has probably been whispering again, hoping I'd die in bed from another failed test."
As they walked out of the suite, a strange shift rippled through him. The energy. The confidence. The strange heat in his veins... vanished.
He stopped.
Wayne turned back. "Sir?"
King's jaw tensed. The air felt colder. Emptier.
The scent was gone. She was gone.
And with her... the spark inside him.