Chapter 306: The Ballad of Stolen Fire

[FROLO]

Sergei Moskowsky hadn’t moved from beside Katya.

At all.

But Katya?

He’d never seen an efficient system being run by someone seated on a couch while grilling meat because he heard Katya’s stomach rumble once.

"The shopkeeper is coming with Myrtle," Katya had heard Anya say, as if that was the worst of things.

Honestly, after the rage and all that, Katya had expected Sergei to leave. He’d expected the alpha to excuse himself.

Yet now he had an alpha making him comfortable while checking a list on his new tablet since the other one was long broken.

"How long?" Sergei had asked.

"Two and a half hours. They’ll be in Basement One earlier than that," Anya had said, slashing the thirty minutes from the three-hour drive because Sergei had to stay put.

"Tell the shopkeeper they have two hours," Sergei had said before turning to Volkov when Anya left.

"Find out where Aleksandr is... before Svetlana and Andre get to him. I need him intact for a proper apology before handing him over."

"Sir—"

"What?"

"The senator’s residence was blown to bits," Volkov reported an hour later, like what he had learned would determine so many fates.

Then again, Katya stared in shock for a moment.

"Alek... is he..." Katya found himself worrying for the man who had just used his miscarriage as an excuse to the world. He knew this wasn’t easy, but what the hell was he supposed to say then?

After the explosion, everything that was happening pointed toward Sergei Moskowsky.

And Katya couldn’t even tell the reaction of his parents and his friends because the TV was off and most of the electronics had been busted.

It hadn’t been intentional, though; that was the one thing Katya was thankful for.

Sure, he had his phone and could make the call to see if things were alright out there, but then, looking at the coordination from the man grilling his meat for him, Katya didn’t do a thing.

Instead, he let himself watch.

He’d seen the horror stories about Sergei Moskowsky on the dark web. That was back when he had been looking up the bratva and trying to figure out ways of helping Alek.

He knew exactly what kind of man Sergei was supposed to be.

Yet Katya wasn’t scared.

"He wasn’t at the residence, Solnyshka," Sergei said before adding, "You’ve barely eaten. You can’t skip meals because your boyfriend lost his mind, my little wolf."

"How do you know that?" Katya asked even though he’d seen Alek at a different residence.

But then...

He needed to feel useful. He needed to feel like he was doing something because otherwise he would sink into his pain, and that was the one thing he refused to lean into. Not right now.

He refused to be the person who was always brought down by the mention of his miscarriage or even the pain he had had to go through in his marriage.

Now he was here.

"Irina said she scouted the house before she blew it up," Volkov reported, and Katya froze.

"I... Irina?" Katya mumbled right as the elevator dinged and the woman of the hour walked in. She looked like she had been having the longest morning of her life.

"Well, isn’t this fascinating?" Irina said, amused as she took in the sight of Katya and Sergei on the same couch, the alpha busy grilling meat with one hand while checking his tablet on the other, while Katya just sat, unsure of what to say or do.

"You’re late," Sergei said, like that wasn’t even a bother for him.

"And you said he was sad," Irina said boredly, walking into the room.

She then casually kissed Volkov on the cheeks like it was a normal day in Frolo for them both.

"You stink," Volkov said, scrunching up his nose.

"Well, petrol doesn’t exactly smell like heaven when you’re doing your job, Volkov," Irina said as she took a seat on the couch that was right opposite the one where Katya and Sergei were seated.

"I’m hungry, fuck it’s a good thing you’re grilling meat," Irina said as she stared at the alpha again. The huge penthouse windows were open, and the air seemed pretty fine for what Sergei was doing.

"Lemme have so—"

"You touch that, and it will be the last thing you ever do alive," Sergei warned casually as if this wasn’t the woman he was rumored to be in a relationship with.

Katya sat stiff, occasionally looking at Irina, almost as if he was comparing himself to her.

"Jeez, you’re so protective," Irina laughed.

"Solnysh— you aren’t eating, little wolf," Sergei pointed out, and Katya turned to look at him. Then at the food.

"Irina is hungrier. Feed her," Katya said, before getting up and disappearing into Sergei’s bedroom.

They didn’t miss the way the door slammed hard behind him.

"Uh oh, what did you do, Sergei?" Irina said, and Sergei glared at her like she didn’t know she was the root cause of all this.

"Go take a shower. You’re stinking up my Solnyshka’s space," Sergei said flatly before he set the tongs aside along with the tablet and walked after Katya.

"Sergei in love... I almost thought you’d die hopeless. Turns out that heart works perfectly for once," Irina teased, not once touching the food Sergei had left there.

"There’s food in the kitchen. You need to get ready. The shopkeeper and Myrtle are on their way. You know what they are like and why they were banished to that nursing home," Volkov said before he stepped out as if there was more work for him.

"They’re still alive? Shit, I thought after seven years they blew the place up in that shithole," Irina laughed, turning the gas off.

"Don’t let Rastenkin hear you, or you’ll be his next victim," Volkov teased, and Irina just rolled her eyes at him.

"Why don’t you guys want the senator dead? I mean, after all that shit in the media, I’m still mad at him, and it wasn’t even my miscarriage he talked of like that," Irina asked as she walked to the kitchen.

"Romanov doesn’t want him dead," Volkov said as he followed her to the kitchen.

"Ah, the kind omega saves the day again. We should really throw a party for that kid for keeping Sergei sane," Irina said in earnest.

"I worry about young Gamov, though. After everything, this is going to break his relationship with his father," Volkov mused sadly.

"Sergei knew it was a possibility from the beginning. Besides, right now? The focus is on the senator. I doubt young Gamov would let Aleksandr walk after that declaration," Irina said, and Volkov just let out a tired sigh.

Meanwhile, in Sergei’s bedroom, the alpha was leaning against the window, watching his omega look outside passively aggressively.

"Little wolf..."

"I’m not jealous, if that’s what you’re thinking."

"Everyone knows I’m lucky to be loved by you, I wouldn’t ruin that," Sergei said softly as he advanced to where Katya was standing.

"Good for you," Katya huffed, his lips trembling.

"Do you want me to leave?" Sergei asked quietly.

"I’m scared, Vladimir... I’m never going to fit in your world... I—"

"You don’t have to, Moy lyubim. You being alive and happy is all I care about," Sergei said, gently pulling Katya into a hug.

"But—"

"Hush now, my little wolf."

"Okay," Katya whispered into Sergei’s chest.

"...my alpha," he breathed, barely aware he’d spoken the words aloud.

And Sergei...

The alpha stilled.

Then Katya’s phone rang.

Aleksandr.