Sebastian Blake – First Person
The conference room was silent.Eight of my men sat stiffly around the long glass table, every single one armed, alert, and completely focused on the pink bunny band-aid wrapped around my hand.
I didn't say a word.
Neither did they.
Not at first.
Then—because hell apparently has no boundaries—Kai coughed into his fist and muttered, "Nice… uh, first aid choice, boss."
I didn't look up from the file I was reading.
"Want to repeat that?" I said coolly.
"Nothing," he said immediately, straightening like he'd been electrocuted. "Said nothing."
But it was too late.
The rest of them—hardened men, killers, smugglers, arms runners—were eyeing the bandage like it was about to explode.
One brave soul dared.
"Is that… Hello Kitty?"
I looked up.
His soul evaporated on the spot.
Nobody said anything for the next twenty seconds.
Until Kai, again, because he apparently had a death wish, leaned closer and squinted. "Is that a bunny with a bow?"
"It's limited edition," I said flatly.
Silence.
He blinked. "Wait. Did you say that? Or—"
"Ray did."
And now they all sat back.
"Ohhhh."
A collective exhale.
"That makes sense."
"The girl."
"She patched you up?"
"Cute."
"Shut up," I muttered.
But it was too late.
Smirks. Snickers. Kai grinning like he'd won the lottery. "Never thought I'd live to see Sebastian Blake, London's most terrifying bastard, wear a pink bunny band-aid like a badge of honor."
I snapped the file closed.
"I can make sure you don't live to see the next five minutes."
"Right. Yes. Sorry. I was just saying it's... fashion-forward."
I stood, adjusted my sleeves, and walked to the window—half to escape them, half to get a grip.
Because the truth was, I hadn't taken it off.
Could've.
Easily.
I had real gauze. Medical tape. Hell, I had a private doctor on speed dial.
But I didn't.
I left it on.
Because she'd put it there.
And because when I'd woken up this morning, alone in my bedroom, the silence stretching like an ocean, I'd looked down at my hand—and it had made me feel something.
A reminder.
That someone out there cared enough to patch up broken knuckles with strawberry wipes and cartoon stickers.
That someone saw the monster and didn't run.
That someone—Ray—was slowly sneaking past every defense I'd ever built.
And the scariest part?
I was letting her.