Chapter 268: Dopamine, Chemical-Induced... What I Gotta Do?

[FROLO]

It had been six months since the court trial that had shaken the city to the core. Since the day that so many fates had changed without them knowing. Six months since the most horrendous acts of medical malpractice were brought to light.

And six months since anyone gave a reasonable explanation for what had been happening since that court date.

For starters, Professor Sorokin, one of the professors sentenced to life in the Frolo courts, was found barely two months later with his body ripped apart and ruined in the kind of way that no one had expected.

The once prestigious professor was reduced to nothing but dog food, with everyone not understanding what had happened. Or maybe they did, but they were too horrified to put a name on it.

Doctor Belyaeva, the therapist, was still in Frolo Women’s Prison, spending the rest of her life there like her fate had doomed her. Prison was way safer than being outside, and finally, she should have been relieved.

Only that these past few weeks, the rumors of the disappearance of Doctor Hamid from his maximum-security jail cell had her sleeping with one eye open.

She knew the professor was dead, and with Doctor Hamid missing, the therapist knew she was next. She didn’t even need to ask who it was who was taking them out one by one.

They had angered so many people with what they had done to the Romanov omega, and the city had long volunteered to bring them to justice.

The city had done its duty in the hands of the law, but everyone knew that was where the lanes of justice stood.

Someone else was taking over.

And truly, someone else had taken over.

Because now, today, the headlines of Frolo were filled with something else. Something that reminded them of what happened to people who messed with the Romanov omega.

The surgeon, Doctor Hamid...

The one who had conducted pointless separations on the Romanov omega had been found dumped in front of the busiest public park in Frolo. The park that had hundreds of thousands of people moving in and out daily.

THAT was where Doctor Hamid had been found.

However, he looked nothing like the respectable surgeon who was known for his knowledge in reproductive medicine.

In fact, he had undergone three very specific surgical operations.

And worse, they had all been done without any pain medication. The doctor had endured all that pain, not to mention the torture marks on him. The way that he looked like he’d been through the worst of hell.

The doctor had been dumped when he was so close to death that it was even a miracle that he was still alive.

Or maybe the breath he had left was something that his captor had left intentionally. Because by all accounts, the doctor was meant to be dead.

His body had been cut through and sewn like a piece of clothing by a tailor who was just starting his apprenticeship. Someone who didn’t know what to do.

Yet at the same time, it was done so perfectly that it was impossible to assume that whoever had captured Doctor Hamid had not known what he or she was doing.

It was the kind of hell that reminded people to steer clear of the very idea of ever considering hurting the Romanov omega.

But that was not all.

The doctor died minutes after he was hooked up to an oxygen bag.

Those who had saved him said that there was a chemical in his body and bloodstream that reacted explosively to fresh oxygen and had the doctor exploding at the back of the ambulance he had been put in.

The EMTs had never been that horrified in their careers.

Ever.

But then, such was the job they had not signed up for, yet had signed up for the moment they took jobs in a city that had a Moskowsky, right?

The city had never seen such extensive brutality ever, and it was unsettling on every scale. This was the kind of shit that made even the nonbelievers find something to believe in, as long as it saved them the horror of crossing the Romanov omega.

This was the fate that befell everyone who had dared to look at him the wrong way.

In a residence that once was home to the happiest couple, there was an ex-husband who had stayed away from the media for months.

Yaroslav Gamov had not been seen since the courtroom at all.

Many had believed that the beta had chosen to lead a quiet life away from the spotlight. Others even assumed he wanted his daughter Erika to live a happy life without her life being scrutinized for ages by people who knew nothing about her.

It was really something good, only that Erika Gamov lived in 13 Emerald Street under the care of specialized nannies and was given everything she wanted.

As for the woman who had birthed her, the orchestrator of things that couldn’t be repeated in public, no one knew her whereabouts.

Milan Popova hadn’t once been sighted since the trial.

She never made it to remand, let alone prison or even her court date. The bus she was being transferred in disappeared into thin air. Not even the drivers had ever been found to this day.

Many assumed karma had come calling, but in that residence, under the floorboards, deep inside the basement, was the woman the city was slowly starting to remember.

The woman who never got her chance to fight for her life.

The woman who never saw what her fate would be like because no one ever heard of her again.

And frankly, if it wasn’t for the fact that Doctor Hamid had been found today, many would probably have never remembered her.

The woman who ripped Katya Romanov’s heart into pieces over and over for five long years until there was nothing left of the Romanov omega’s heart to be torn apart.

But inside the matrimonial house that had once belonged to the Romanov omega, inside the house where dreams of a family had been built and ripped apart, inside that house, reigned the answers.

A knock on the door would get you a disheveled Yaroslav, an ex-husband who was mourning the marriage he failed to save in time.

A dutiful husband whose heart was so shattered he chose to live in what was left to serve as a memory for a life he should have protected.

His hair was always shabby; he was so disheveled most of the time that it was hard to imagine the house had not become a man cave. But it hadn’t.

In fact, the Gamov matrimonial home was the cleanest it had ever been. Lonelier, emptier, and soulless, but it was cleaner and filled with the haunting memories of a laughter Yaroslav would never hear again.

Thanks to the woman who had wanted him and his matrimonial home so badly that she tore apart the very home she wanted to make hers in her obsession with Yaroslav.

Well, Milan finally had the house, didn’t she?

Perhaps it’s why on some days he would stare at the ceiling and fall asleep while at it, while on other days he would go under his floorboards and have a chat with the woman who had caused him so much pain.

The woman who was supposed to be the solution, and yet the one who had turned his life into a circus.

The woman who had broken the heart of the only person he had ever loved with everything.

Today was such a day, because the TV in the basement was running, and Yaroslav was there seated on a broken chair, in a room covered in plastic sheets.

"Wake up, sweet cheeks. It’s your turn," Yaroslav said, zapping the figure that was hanging legs up and was hooked to the ceiling of the basement.

"Anya killed the professor," Yaroslav said with a smug grin.

Then...

"Andre finally finished learning surgery. Killed the surgeon, too. It’s your turn now. We’ve both waited for this for months, right?" Yaroslav said, small laughter escaping him as he grabbed a beer from the stack of crates he’d downed for months.

He couldn’t function without taking one daily because, at least until the bottle was empty, he didn’t have to think of the ways that he had hurt Katya Romanov. He knew he was a coward, but what was he supposed to do?

"Wh... What is ha... happening?" Milan stuttered, trying to see what Yaroslav was talking about.

"I said Andre killed the surgeon, finally! You know, Andre, my Romanov’s friend? The one who wanted to strangle you but chose the doctor in father’s prisoner selection shuffle?

"Anyway, wakey wakey! Time to explore the reproductive system!" Yaroslav shouted right into Milan’s ears.