Chapter 387: This Thing Upon Me, Howls Like A Beast

[FROLO]

The room was dead silent as the tally went up.

Seventy-eight.

Seventy-eight men and women.

That was how many bratva operatives had been flattened in the depot Moskowsky mission. It was something that Aleksandr wanted to say was false. Because there was no sane explanation for what they were seeing.

But the footage had been there.

He had seen it himself.

How the Moskowsky heir was far more ruthless than anyone had ever seen Sergei Moskowsky in public. People mostly interacted with the aftermath of Sergei’s rage, but this, this was different.

Everybody had always believed Yaroslav didn’t get himself into trouble because he was the prince of the Moskowsky group, and he didn’t have to do the dirty, bloody work.

That he was protected in a glass castle and hidden from the side of life that his father lived openly.

But what Aleksandr was seeing was not the man who had been cheating on Katya with Milan for five years. He looked nothing like the CEO of Knox Tech, let alone the one who had stepped aside because apparently love was what mattered for Katya.

That man was gone.

Unbelievably gone.

And in his place was a weapon forged by the hands of the devil himself. It was more than obvious that Yaroslav Moskowsky wasn’t weak, or even that he was far too protected.

Of course, anyone who launched a campaign against Yaroslav would end up ruined by his father’s hands, but Aleksandr hadn’t expected THAT.

Gods, Yaroslav was too efficient.

Too cold in his strikes. Too calculated in his attacks. He used his blades like he was in the kitchen and shot bullets from machine guns like it was what he played with daily.

By the time they were done with Irina and the Moskowsky mercs, no one from their side had fallen. Sure, some had gotten away with scratches and bullet wounds... but Yaroslav Moskowsky had gotten away unharmed.

Not even a scratch on his hair.

It wasn’t because the bratva men there were going easy on him. They had tried their best. Gave everything to protect the depot.

Yaroslav was just...

A Moskowsky with the kind of training that shocked even the governor himself.

He was not the man who had a thousand and one dating and cheating scandals in the city, and that was the kind of information they had not been expecting. Hell, they didn’t even know what to do with it just yet.

There was no reasonable place to begin anyway.

"Sir, I have been in the business of killing for thirty years, and I have never seen that kind of brutality," the head of operations had reported back to the governor.

Governor Morozov had deployed people upon Kenzo’s request, but what they found there was a burning depot with bodies sprawled all over.

There were no survivors.

No one to tell the tale of what had happened and no one to even explain why the fuck they had been attacked. Everyone was ruined. Gunshot wounds, blades, katanas. It was the kind of sight that made even the worst of the worst pause.

Perhaps that was why, as they sat inside Alek’s office at the bratva HQ, Governor Morozov had far too many questions. He wasn’t even sure where the fuck he was supposed to start.

Because honestly, there was clearly no difference between the father and the son.

Or maybe it was because Sergei was borderline insane without a care, and Yaroslav was just a perfected lethal weapon by his father.

A weapon that Sergei never deployed. Ever. That was why no one knew what Yaroslav was completely capable of on his own. His skills. They had known his father had the power, but damn, this wasn’t even about power anymore.

"What the hell did we just watch?" Governor Morozov broke the silence as Aleksandr stared at the footage again.

He was furious.

But he couldn’t even say shit because he had been too busy at the hospital, distracted by the love of his life returning to life. Not that he could tell that to the damn governor, who was probably looking for something to leverage against him.

Still, this was the most insane thing that he had ever seen, and it wasn’t the least bit comforting at all.

"These Moskowskys, are they made of metal? Because there is just no way a single person can be that brutal and lethal. He looks like he doesn’t give a shit what happens to his victims. Not even offering them a reasonable death.

"What the hell am I even supposed to do with this?" the governor asked, frustrated. He knew this was dangerous, but hell, what the fuck had he just seen?

Yaroslav Moskowsky was dangerous.

Too dangerous.

Yet even the governor knew better than to delude himself into believing that maybe they could touch Sergei’s son. There was an entire city that still had nightmares from the last time someone had tried.

"Release the videos of Yaroslav Moskowsky to the public. No media houses will be talked out of it by the Moskowskys. You deal with that PR nightmare; I will deal with the chaos behind the scenes.

"Now leave. I need to think," Alek said flatly, and the governor stared at him, confused.

But Alek was done.

He hadn’t come this far just to be bested by Sergei Moskowsky’s son.

This was not the kind of life he had worked so hard for. He would get his revenge, and if the Moskowskys thought he would just sit by and wait for them to come and take him out, they were wrong.

The governor didn’t try to argue. In fact, he just left, because what else was he supposed to do in a den that was filled with angry bratva men who wanted to fight?

"I will kill him," Alek swore.

Kenzo didn’t even ask who.

Because right now, even Kenzo wanted the blood of the Moskowskys and all the people associated with them. They had really declared war, and he and he had been wary, not that that was supposed to be a consideration.

But how the fuck had they missed such a turn in the Moskowsky operations?

When the hell had they gone from Sergei seeking relationship advice in public to the massacre?

Fuck, it was hell.