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I realize I've mentioned my bodyguards often today, perhaps more than any other day this year. It's hard not to—on a night like this, as excitement and anticipation for the coming New Year crackle through the air, their presence is both a comfort and a reminder of everything that could go wrong.
Even during celebrations, Sasha and Tatsu—my steadfast protectors—remained alert, scanning the room for threats both visible and invisible. It's been their routine for so long, slipping into that role is as easy for them as breathing. Tonight, though, I managed to coax a small change.
Their usual attire is the classic, severe black combat uniform associated with their profession—scarcely festive enough for such an occasion. With more persistence than tact, I persuaded them: a splash of red here and there, warming the dark fabric, a subtle but defiant nod to celebration. The sight made me smile; seeing my bodyguards—usually all business—in black touched with red, just felt right. It was, in its own way, an invitation for them to join in the season's joy, even if only a little.
I would have happily counted it as a personal triumph if I could've convinced them to put on Santa hats. That image—two stoic supersoldiers, armed and imposing, decked out in fluffy red caps—tickled me all week. Alas, both refused outright. That stung a bit. I'd hoped those hats would show everyone what I knew: beneath their stern exteriors, they are genuinely lovely young women, not just warriors on a hair trigger.I approached them as the evening's festivities reached their peak.
"Girls, how are you holding up?" I asked with a grin, hoping my good mood would infect them. Sasha glanced down at her uniform, a shy smile showing despite herself.
"You know, Sasha, this burgundy looks amazing on you. It's so much more you than the usual black."She actually blushed, which was rare for her. That streak suited her.
"Tatsu, I have a red ribbon here," I offered, holding it delicately. "Maybe you'll tie it to your katana? Wouldn't hurt to look a bit festive."
She glanced at the ribbon, then at the Soul Stealer blade. "Um, I think I'll decline," she replied, lips pressed into a thin line.
For a moment, I imagined the sword itself was offended—ancient, proud, now asked to wear a silly adornment. Funny how sometimes even inanimate objects acquire personalities in our perceptions. Not wanting to upset the legendary weapon (or its wielder), I quietly tucked the ribbon back into my pocket.
"My dear Girl Scouts, you really should relax a little," I said, doing my best to project optimism. "I know I've had a rough last six months—these things just seem to happen to me—but tonight, at least, can't we pretend nothing will go wrong?" My words were met with silence—stony gazes that suggested I was out of my mind—or perhaps, just naive.
Tatsu shook her head, dark hair swinging smoothly. "I don't know how you stay so optimistic, especially given your luck lately."
"If you spend your days worrying about what might happen, you end up missing the amazing things right in front of you," I said, as much to myself as to them. "Life's wonderful if you don't dwell on the past or worry too far ahead—though I admit, I've never been great at that."
There was a brittle silence, the kind that comes when you're together with people who know just how often you tempt fate. To distract myself, I changed the subject.
"By the way, Tatsu, what's the latest in Nanda Parbat?" My voice dropped so the partygoers wouldn't overhear.
She answered in her usual measured tone, reporting that she'd kept tabs on the League of Shadows. Since my last...adventure...Ra's al Ghul had not launched any counterattack. It should have been a relief, but instead, it set nerves on edge. When someone that powerful is silent, you know they're planning something.We remain vigilant, then.
That ancient organization has a hundred schemes running at once, enough to keep us guessing and on guard for a long time.On lighter mornings, I'd joke to the girls about playing Santa—delivering small gifts to Talia al Ghul, Lady Shiva, and Cassandra Cain. Just a whimsical thought. But there's no courier service that travels into the Hindu Kush Mountains, and, after everything that went on last time, I wasn't about to walk into the lion's den again, especially not carrying presents.
Maybe, I mused, I should build my own little army—the kind you can send anywhere for anything. Outsource the danger for once. Why do it all myself when I could hire some highly competent professionals to handle the worst parts? It's an idea worth considering in the coming year. If the past is any guide, fate is far from done with me.
Recognizing the fatigue in my bodyguards' eyes, I excused myself, promising silently to let them enjoy at least some of the evening without my ramblings. I could argue that, after the Lazarus Pit, I was now physically much stronger than either of them—even if they were supersoldiers, the gap had widened again. Once, they easily matched me in raw strength. Now, that distance bothered them, even if they never spoke about it. Protecting someone who no longer needs protecting must be every security guard's worst nightmare.
Yet, I know both Sasha and Tatsu well; they double down on their commitment, determined that their intention to keep me safe is just as serious now as the day they started.
To let them know I recognized their dedication, I flashed them both a thumbs-up, a silent message that I trusted them with my life. Then, eager to immerse myself in the evening, I wandered off.
It was then I noticed her: a striking brunette in a perfectly tailored business suit, standing by the dessert table, leisurely picking grapes from an ornate fruit arrangement. Heather Brooks—my precious assistant, the one woman who kept all things at Alritex Entertainment running smoothly. Without her, things would rapidly spiral into chaos.
Technically, she was my assistant, but really, she was my right hand—a founding member of the company and the backbone of all our recent success. Heather works almost constantly—seven days a week, as she regularly reminds me, but her pride in the company was always clear in her sparkling eyes. It's rare to find someone who genuinely enjoys being in charge, who thrives on the challenge rather than resenting it.
"Hi, Heather," I teased as I approached, watching her savor a sip of champagne.
"Mr. Reath, you really do love these extravagant parties, don't you?" she said, eyebrow arching. "You throw yourself into the celebrations instead of tackling your work. At this rate, how much longer do I have to handle your responsibilities for you? Aren't you even a little bit ashamed?"
"To my shame, Heather, I've never been ashamed," I admitted, letting a grape fall into my mouth. It was delicious, sharp and sweet all at once.
She just shook her head, helpless and amused.
"By the way, have you seen Natasha? Did she show up tonight?"
"You gave her the holidays off—you told her to rest until New Year's," Heather reminded me. "Of course she's not here."
"Not exactly. She asked for time off herself, said she needed to handle issues at her other job." I saw understanding flicker in Heather's gaze. She didn't say it aloud—no one discussed Black Widow's day job in public.
Heather had always known Natasha was a double agent for S.H.I.E.L.D.—I shared that early on because trust, I'd learned, was the only way our organization would survive. Heather stood beside me, and for a moment, I watched her survey the room with that sharp gaze of hers. I felt a pang of guilt; as the company grew, my time became less my own, and more of its burdens fell on Heather's capable shoulders. I even joked (to myself, mostly) about offering her the supersoldier serum.
In theory, it would help her cope with stress—or fend off actual danger. But that wasn't why I cared for her. I did it because she mattered, because no one else could fill her role, no matter how many awards I heaped on her desk. The night roared on, laughter rising in waves as the clock moved towards midnight, the promise of the New Year shimmering in the air.
For one suspended moment, surrounded by loyal friends, relentless bodyguards, and colleagues who had become family, I let myself believe that, despite everything, the future might just live up to this fleeting joy
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You all can read extra chapters on [email protected]/annihilator009.