Chapter 493: Cruelty At The End Of The Line

[FROLO]

Katya didn’t remember how it all began.

The only thing he noticed was the fact that an hour into their wait, three trucks approached and guns went off.

The sound of bullets flying around was different from the sound of firing into the air.

The shouts.

The grunts.

"Don’t let him leave!!" Katya heard Hakim say somewhere over the flying bullets.

And it took him a moment to realize he was the one being addressed.

The target?

A man with a gun just like his.

And Katya... He fired.

Once.

The back of the head.

His target fell face first as his brains fell beside him in the kind of sight that had Katya pausing.

But there wasn’t even time to take in what he had done.

"More are coming!! Leave no man alive!!" Hakim shouted into the earpiece, and everyone went in with the shootout.

Bullets.

Lives being lost.

Katya... He’d taken more lives than he’d ever taken in his whole life.

He’d never taken a life if he was being honest.

Because it was one thing to be trained with targets and animals, and it was another to be the reason someone’s father and mother didn’t make it home.

It sickened him to the core.

And Katya hated himself for what he had become.

But he had an objective, and if it involved being... This... Then he would keep at it.

So he fired.

Mags got empty. He reloaded.

Fired again.

By the time there was silence, Katya had a scratch from a bullet that had grazed him a little too close on the arm, and he had used up all of his bullets.

"Well damn, Katya... You really outdid what we expected," Hakim said as they gathered around the bonfire.

The shipment was secure.

They had nothing to worry about.

The cartel members were all dead anyway.

It was a successful night, and Katya had been part of it.

Had played a role in it.

"I... I only followed instructions," Katya said like he didn’t know he’d killed thirteen cartel members. Like he hadn’t riddled bullets into men whose only mistake was having a shipment that the Romanovs needed.

Still, he had no regrets.

Because for him, this was a step in the right direction. Maybe if he had a reputation for himself, maybe Sergei would come back to him.

Maybe his Vladimir would come home.

So as everyone cheered for him, as they called him different names out of respect and partnership, Katya hoped that this would be worth it in the end.

Because he would never forget the thirteen dead men and women he’d taken out. He’d never forget the ones he’d injured and how his comrades had taken out.

Comrades... That was what they were.

Operatives by law. Comrades by association.

It was supposed to make Katya feel like he was part of something better. Something special.

But there was nothing special about picking up arms because his boyfriend was running away.

Maybe this would be worth it in the end.

Maybe.

Oh, Katya.

That night Katya didn’t sleep.

He couldn’t.

They had all slept beside the burning fire, taking turns to watch over each other.

Katya had taken watch with a few of them near dawn, but he’d gone to sleep when his shift was over, only to be woken up at around six in the morning.

It was time to go back to the city.

Time to return to the life he had never thought he’d ever challenge.

Still, he didn’t complain.

Not when the chopper came to pick him up.

He had wanted to join the operatives. And his father had approved.

That was the first step.

To getting his boyfriend back.

Even if he had a bullet wound like some of the men he’d come out with.

Most of them had taken out their bullets and tied up their arms and wounded parts like it was just normal. And Katya... He’d used his handkerchief to tie his arm.

The ride was supposed to take him home.

To the Romanov manor.

But Katya refused.

Instead...

He told them to go to Romanov Steel.

He had work to do.

He had research to do.

Sergei wanted him to do research so badly?

He would do it.

Pretend that things were normal.

And be hurt in private, and smile at everyone else like the perfect omega in public.

It was quite the life, and Katya knew he didn’t mind it.

It was his way home.

His way to his boyfriend.

His way to his little home with Sergei.

Romanov Steel was quiet when Katya got there. He went to his office, not the one on the research floor, no. His real office.

The office of the Romanov heir.

He had seen work suits stashed there. Had also seen a shower. The office had a door that led to a whole different room. One that was almost like a studio apartment behind it all.

There, there was everything Katya needed.

Clean clothes. A shower. Everything for him to go back to being the perfect omega.

He even managed to hide the bullet wound on his arm. After all, Sergei had come with scars on his face, right?

And just like Sergei... Katya didn’t hide his pain.

He didn’t even try to conceal his fear and terror the entire time he’d been out there on the inside.

He knew it was madness... That he was playing a very, very dangerous game.

But two could play the game Sergei had started them both on.

And he wasn’t in the mood for anything.

Which was why, when he reached the research floor and saw a very pissed-off Sergei...

Katya didn’t say a word.

Didn’t even acknowledge his boyfriend.

Sergei wanted them to be strangers... That was what Katya would do.

Katya went to his desk in silence, walking past Sergei, who was waiting there looking like he had seen a thousand and one hells.

"Were the reports approved? We have a presentation this morning," Katya said calmly to Greg, like there wasn’t a mountain of a man on the research floor looking like he was about to blow up the entire floor.

Katya wasn’t bothered.

"Aren’t you going to talk to him?" Greg whispered, and Katya turned to Sergei, who was waiting.

"He’s not here for me today. Mr Moskowsky must probably have other commitments with Romanov Steel... Anyway, shall we?" Katya said calmly as he grabbed the reports he’d left on his desk.

They had a meeting at eight, and they were not trying to be late.

"Katya..." Greg trailed off when Sergei got close.

"Come along, we have to get this started. You know how our supervisors despise late submissions and presentations," Katya said calmly.

Greg, not wanting to be in the middle of whatever this was, just nodded as he grabbed his files too.

Then both the alpha and omega walked away, and Sergei stood stiff, the scent of blood hitting his nose.

He wanted to ignore it.

Really did.

But he couldn’t.

So before Katya got into the elevator, he rushed and held his arm, stopping him.

"Mr. Moskowsky... Do you have something to say?" Katya asked flatly.

Sergei flinched.

Katya wasn’t moved.

"My father is in his office if you need to talk to him. Excuse us," Katya said, pulling his arm from Sergei’s hold.

Sergei didn’t try to keep him.

He let go.

And Katya didn’t look back.

Not when the elevator door closed.

And not an hour later, when he returned and saw Sergei still waiting.

Instead... Katya went about his day. And when afternoon came, he knew what to do.

His routine with Hakim.

Guns.

Violence.

Sergei watched it all in silence thanks to the alliance between Moskowsky Holdings and Romanov Steel.

Only that it wasn’t even an alliance of trades anymore.

This was something else.

Something neither of them could name. Because lines had been crossed. Lives changed. Nothing would ever really be the same.

That was something Sergei noticed when Katya bundled up in the dusty van that left for the outskirts of Frolo again.

Sergei sat there... with him and the other operatives.

Watched as Katya interacted with everyone but him.

Watched as his Solnyshka picked up a gun and fired. Not once. Not twice. Not even thrice.

He watched his boyfriend behave like he had been born into this shit, and that hurt. Because Sergei knew this was not what he wanted for Katya.

Yet when night ended, and they went back to the city, into Katya’s new routine, Sergei couldn’t hide the rage at the bags under Katya’s eyes. The way his stomach growled because Katya refused to have any meal since the previous day.

He’d only drunk water.

And there wasn’t much Sergei could do.

Because reaching out would mean coming back home.

And home... for Sergei...

Was a lost dream.

Boris had proven it to him.