Shadow Unit Scandal: The Commander's Omega-Chapter 50: Delivery

Rafael’s apartment was quiet in the way only well-managed lives ever are.

Morning light filtered through the sheer curtains, pale and restrained, catching on glass surfaces and the clean edges of furniture. The city beyond the windows moved on without him, while inside, time had narrowed to something smaller as Rafael had done everything in his power to ignore the society after the luncheon.

Rafael received even more invitations to parties, events, and social events that would have made even his mother faint. He ignored all of them.

He sat at the dining table that doubled as his home office, tablet propped at an angle, a cooling cup of coffee untouched at his right.

The night before had been long, as Prince Arik of Agaron had been born just before dawn.

Rafael scrolled through reports with slow, automatic movements. His workload had not disappeared simply because Gabriel was officially on maternity leave. Gabriel trusted him. Damian relied on him to ease the burden from his Consort. That trust had translated into a reduced but constant flow of documents, briefings summarized by others, decisions already made, and details Rafael only needed to verify and contextualize.

It was work he could do from home and chose to, as there nobody would try to get more details about the scandal from him.

A notification slid across the screen.

Official Imperial Bulletin – Released by Order of His Majesty

Rafael opened it already knowing the contents and smiled when he saw Damian’s blunt style; clearly, he released it after Gabriel fell asleep.

’The Imperial Palace confirms the birth of a healthy heir. His Imperial Highness, Prince Arik of Agaron, is a dominant alpha. Both the Prince and his consort are in excellent health.’

Rafael let the bulletin sit on the screen for a moment longer than necessary.

Then he closed it and returned to the report he’d been reviewing, fingers moving with the same smoothness as before. Whatever ripples the announcement sent through the Empire were not his to manage today. Gabriel was resting. Damian and his office would handle the rest. Rafael’s task was keeping the machinery running smoothly while the center held.

The apartment remained motionless until the door chime rang.

Rafael checked the internal camera only because the chime rang twice.

The feed resolved into a single tall figure standing in the corridor.

The man was dressed in dark tactical gear that was close-fitting and reinforced to absorb both impact and ether. It was unmistakably shadow elite in design, functional, severe, and discreetly expensive. No visible rank insignia or name. Only the subtle seal at the collar fastening.

At his feet sat a long, silver reinforced case. Entirely unnecessary for anything that claimed to be polite.

Rafael sighed.

Of course Gregoris had sent a Shadow.

He opened the door.

"Yes?" he said, tone neutral, posture relaxed in the way one becomes when already resigned to nonsense.

The man inclined his head once. As if he’d practiced that exact angle, and knowing his Commander, he did.

"Lord Rosenroth," he said. "I’m here on behalf of His Excellency, Duke Gregoris Frasner."

Rafael glanced at the case, then back at the man. "Let me guess. He couldn’t just send a courier."

The Shadow didn’t smile. "No, sir."

"Of course not."

The man gestured down. "A delivery. For the charitable gala in three days. His Excellency requested it be delivered directly."

Rafael crossed his arms loosely. "The entire department of Shadows knows my address now?"

"That was never a mystery, Sir."

"I’ll have to add that to the list of things your Commander shouldn’t know," Rafael said mildly.

The Shadow paused, then said, "I don’t believe he shares that concern."

Rafael snorted quietly despite himself. "Do you get returns?"

"No, sir," the Shadow replied without hesitation. "His Excellency is very clear on that point."

"Of course he is."

Rafael stepped aside and gestured toward the interior with a small tilt of his head. "Fine. Bring it in before my neighbors decide I’m staging a coup."

The Shadow bent, lifted the long case with minimal effort, and carried it inside. He moved through the apartment with professional awareness, eyes registering exits, reflections, and distances without lingering. When he set the case down near the dining table, he adjusted its position by a few centimeters, aligning it neatly with the edge.

Rafael watched this with tired amusement. "You know," he said, "most people delivering clothes don’t treat them like classified weapons."

The Shadow straightened. "These are not most clothes, sir."

"I had a feeling you’d say that."

"There is also an accompanying item." The Shadow reached into his coat and pulled out a smaller case, dark, compact, and heavy enough to speak for itself. He placed it beside the larger one with the same care.

Rafael stared at it. "Let me guess. Jewelry."

"Yes."

"For a charity gala," Rafael said dryly. "Nothing excessive, I’m sure."

The Shadow’s expression did not change. "His Excellency instructed me to say that it is appropriate to the occasion."

"That’s alarming," Rafael replied. He did not reach for the case. "Tell His Excellency that gifts don’t create obligations."

The Shadow met his gaze evenly. "He anticipated that concern."

"And?"

"And he stated that this is an apology rather than a transaction."

Rafael closed his eyes for half a second. "That’s somehow worse."

The Shadow inclined his head once more, accepting the assessment. "He also asked that I extend his congratulations to your first public scandal."

Rafael’s expression softened despite himself. "Of course he did. Please tell him that I appreciate the sentiment just as much as he did the poisonous cookies.

"I will."

Rafael nodded toward the door. "That will be all."

The Shadow paused, then added, "If you have questions about the fit, the tailoring team is on standby."

"I’m sure they are," Rafael said. "Gregoris never does anything halfway."

The Shadow took the dismissal without offense, turned, and walked out, the door closing behind him.

Rafael stood there for a moment, alone again, the apartment returning to its earlier stillness, though now with two very expensive intrusions occupying the floor.

He went back to the table and sat down, glancing between the cases and his untouched coffee.

"Well," he murmured, rubbing a hand over his face, "that’s one way to announce intent."

After a brief pause, he reached for the larger case and keyed it open.

"Let’s see," Rafael said quietly, "what you think possession looks like."