Chapter 275

ALEXANDER

Apparently…

The interrogation wasn’t over.

One of the boys marched up to me carrying a tiny pink plastic biscuit and held it out.

“You can have a biscuit with your tea.”

I looked at it.

Then at him.

“…Is that imaginary too?”

“How can it be imag… imag…”

He frowned at the word, battling it like it owed him money.

“Im… mag… in…”

Another little girl leaned over helpfully.

“Imaginary.”

“Yeah, that!” he said, immediately pointing at me again.

“How can it be that when you can see it?”

“My mistake,” I said gravely and took the biscuit.

“Take a bite,” the little girl urged.

I pretended to bite into it.

The children leaned closer.

“Well?”

“Mmm. Nice.”

The boy puffed out his chest with pride.

“It’s strawberry.”

“Of course it is.”

“With sprinkles.”

I pretended to chew thoughtfully.

“I can taste the sprinkles.”

A little girl beamed.

“I made them.”

I looked at her.

“…You did?”

“Yes. But you forgot to say thank you.”

Right.

Apparently tea party etiquette was enforced with an iron fist.

I looked down at the empty plastic teacup in my hand.

“My deepest apologies.”

I lifted the cup with complete seriousness.

“Thank you for the lovely tea.”

Then I held up the tiny pink biscuit.

“And thank you for the excellent biscuit. It was delicious.”

The little girl smiled proudly.

“You’re welcome.”

The entire courtyard erupted into applause.

Actual.

Applause.

I blinked.

I was being applauded...

For pretending to eat a plastic biscuit and drink invisible tea.

Somewhere, generations of hardened Dimitri men were probably rolling in their graves.

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught the woman standing beside Alina staring at me.

Her mouth opened.

Closed.

Then opened again.

“He looks like he could crush that little teacup into dust with one hand,” I heard her say.

“He could,” Alina agreed.

“Then…”

The woman pointed at me, utterly bewildered.

“…why is he sitting there politely drinking imaginary tea and biscuits?”

Alina didn’t miss a beat.

“Peer pressure.”

“…From children?”

“The worst kind,” Alina said with a solemn nod.

“You can’t negotiate with them.”

A second finger.

“They’re completely immune to bribery.”

A third.

“And they hunt in packs.”

I sighed into my imaginary tea.

She wasn’t wrong.

I was surrounded.

Outnumbered.

And completely defeated by a group of tiny humans who had decided I was their personal jungle gym and tea party guest.

I'd negotiated peace treaties between rival syndicates.

I'd stared down men pointing guns at my head.

I'd walked into rooms knowing half the people inside wanted me dead.

None of them...

Not one...

Had ever intimidated me quite like twenty children armed with plastic tea sets and overwhelming confidence.

The imaginary tea party was still in full swing when the first shot rang out.

BANG.

The sound cracked through the courtyard like thunder.

"Fuckìng hell."

I was on my feet in an instant, instincts screaming.

The kids, not knowing it was a gunshot, stared at me.

“That’ll be another twenty dollars,” one little girl announced solemnly, pointing at me like I’d just committed the ultimate crime.

Before I could tell them to hide, another array of bullets tore through the air — hitting windows, shattering pots, ricocheting off walls with sharp, terrifying cracks.

“Down!” I roared, lunging forward to grab as many children as I could reach.

“Everyone down! Now!”

Chaos erupted.

Tiny screams filled the air as the kids finally realized something was wrong.

I pulled them behind the low brick wall near the playground, shielding as many as possible with my body.

“Stay low! Heads down!”

My heart was pounding as I scanned the area frantically.

Alina.

Where the fuck was Alina?

My gaze swept the courtyard until I found her a few yards away, crouched behind a concrete planter with her friend.

Relief slammed into my chest.

She was safe.

The kids, however, were a completely different fucking problem.

Half the orphanage had apparently decided I was the emergency evacuation vehicle.

Six of them were attached to me like terrified baby koalas.

One had both arms wrapped around my leg. Another was hanging off my back like a tiny backpack.

A little girl had somehow wedged herself under my arm, while another kid looked one second away from climbing onto my shoulders.

Their little bodies shook as they buried their faces against me.

"Was that a gun?" one little boy whimpered into my shirt.

“I saw guns in movies,” another boy squeaked, his lower lip trembling.

“The bad guys always have guns.”

A little girl looked up at me with wide, hopeful eyes.

“You're the hero... right?”

Before I could answer, another kid gasped as though the answer was painfully obvious.

“Of course he is!”

He pointed at me with absolute confidence.

“He's Ali's husband. She wouldn't marry a villain, would she?”

The other children immediately nodded.

“Yeah!”

“Ali's too nice!”

“She only likes good people!”

I stared at the tiny jury that had somehow reached a unanimous verdict in under five seconds.

Well...

That was certainly one way to clear my criminal record.

If only the FBI, Interpol, and half the governments I'd pissed off over the years judged people by kindergarten logic.

Congratulations, Alexander.

According to six children, you were officially one of the good guys.

No one else on the planet would agree... but somehow, hearing them say it made something tighten in my chest.

I looked at their frightened little faces.

To them...

I wasn't a Alexander Dimitri.

I wasn't a criminal.

I wasn't a man with blood on his hands.

I was simply Alina's husband.

And in their eyes, that meant I had to be the hero.

God help me...

I wasn't about to let them down.

"OK....you kids need to let go."

I tried peeling one child off my leg.

He clung tighter.

I pulled at another.

He wrapped both legs around my waist like a determined koala.

"You lot have stronger grips than my fucking bodyguards,” I muttered under my breath.

..

“You lot have stronger grips than my fucking bodyguards,” I muttered under my breath.

“No swearing, remember...” the little girl under my arm said softly, her voice muffled against my shoulder.

“But it’s okay... you don’t have to put money in the swear jar... as long as you save us, okay?”

I looked down at the six terrified faces staring up at me, eyes wide with fear and hope.

“I won't let anyone hurt you,” I said quietly.

It would’ve sounded a lot more heroic if I wasn’t currently being held hostage by a group of tiny humans with surprisingly impressive grip strength.

Before I could move, another gunshot tore through the air.

Bang.

The sound echoed across the courtyard.

Every kid froze.

And then... chaos.

Screaming erupted like a symphony of panic.

I reacted before I even thought.

“Fuck!”

I turned my body toward the direction of the gunfire, using myself as a shield.

A bullet slammed into the concrete wall behind us.

Crack.

Pieces of stone exploded into the air, raining down on us.

The kids’ screams grew even louder.

Great.

Exactly what I needed.

I took a slow breath.

“Okay,” I muttered, forcing my voice to stay calm.

“Everybody stay calm.”

I tried gently peeling one kid off my leg.

He tightened his grip like I was a life raft in a storm.

I looked down at him.

“I admire the commitment,” I whispered.

“Really do. Excellent teamwork. Very impressive. Horrible timing.”

Another burst of gunfire erupted.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

The wall beside us shook violently.

I immediately covered the kids with my body again.

The little boy clinging to my leg buried his face against me.

“I need you to let go,” I whispered, keeping my voice steady.

“I need to fight the bad guys, okay?”

“Are you coming back?”

The question caught me off guard.

For a second, I forgot about the bullets.

Forgot about the chaos.

All I saw was a scared kid looking at me like I was the only thing holding the world together.

“Yes,” I said firmly.

“I’m coming back.”

Satisfied with that answer, he loosened his grip.

Progress.

I reached for another kid.

Big mistake.

The second my hands touched him, he wrapped both legs around my waist like I was the last tree on earth.

I froze.

“How are you even doing that?” I whispered.

“I’m scared,” he admitted, burying his face against my shoulder.

My expression softened.

“I know, buddy.”

“You can’t leave us,” another boy sniffled.

“I’m not leaving you.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

“Pinky promise?”

I stared at him.

A gunshot just went off. We were under attack. There were real threats outside.

And somehow, I was standing here negotiating a pinky promise.

“Seriously?” I whispered.

The boy nodded.

Seriously.

I sighed and hooked my pinky around his.

“Fine. Pinky promise. Now, let’s get this giant off you.”

He studied me for a second, like he was checking if heroes were trustworthy.

Then slowly loosened his grip.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” I muttered. “Finally feel my ribs again.”

Eventually, I managed to peel myself away from the tiny human octopus army and guide them behind a low brick wall, gently pushing each child into cover.

“Stay down. Stay quiet,” I ordered.

I pointed at each of them, making sure they understood.

“Heroes work much better when sidekicks don’t climb them like jungle gyms.”

Several tiny heads nodded with all the seriousness they could muster.

Then one little boy frowned.

“What’s a sidekick?”

I blinked.

“You don’t know what a sidekick is?”

He shook his head.

A little girl with tear tracks still shining on her cheeks suddenly whispered,

“Like Robin is to Batman. Dummy”

The boy’s eyes widened.

“Oh.”

He looked up at me.

“So… we’re your Robin?”

I stared at the six terrified faces watching me like I was straight out of a comic book.

“Yeah,” I said, trying not to smile.

“Something like that.”

The smallest boy wiped his nose with his sleeve.

“So you’re really Batman?”

I almost laughed.

“No, and I don’t have a cool mask.”

“But you’re big,” he argued.

“Apparently, that’s my only qualification.”

A few of them giggled.

Tiny, nervous laughs.

The kind that shouldn’t have existed while bullets still rained outside.

But they did.

And for a second, despite the tears in their eyes and the fear plastered on their faces, they smiled.

A bullet cracked somewhere in the distance.

Their smiles vanished instantly.

I lowered my voice.

“Hey.”

Six pairs of eyes looked back at me.

“Sidekicks don’t panic.”

They nodded.

“And sidekicks listen to their adult.”

Another round of serious nodding.

“Good.”

I looked toward the courtyard, jaw tightening.

“Now stay hidden. Batman’s got work to do.”

“Don’t get hurt,” the little girl whispered.

I looked back at her.

“I won’t.”

A lie.

A promise.

Maybe both.

But right now, it was all they needed to believe.

One little boy raised his hand.

I blinked.

“What?”

“If you beat the bad guys...” he whispered,

“do we get ice cream?”

I stared at him for a second.

Then, despite everything going on around us, the corner of my mouth twitched.

“Survive this,” I said, shaking my head,

“and I’ll buy the whole freezer.”

A tiny chorus of hopeful whispers answered.

“Really?”

“Can I get chocolate?”

“I want strawberry.”

I closed my eyes for a second.

Of course.

While hiding from gunfire, they were negotiating ice cream flavors.

“Everyone stays alive first,” I muttered.

“Then we’ll talk about the very serious ice cream situation.”

And somehow, that was enough.

They nodded.

Because sometimes, all kids need is a promise of ice cream—and a stupidly confident adult pretending he’s not terrified too.