Chapter 336: The Disciples Between Heaven And Hell

[FROLO]

Basement One of the Moskowsky building was not as quiet anymore. Hadn’t been for the last three weeks. Not since the Myrtles had been summoned from the nursing home. It was like the worst of the worst had been summoned.

The training rooms that hadn’t fully been exploited in so long had suddenly gotten more active. More equipment had been tunneled in here as if they were preparing for war or something worse.

But tonight, it wasn’t just about the Myrtles anymore.

Inside one room, set up like a classroom, with a whiteboard of strategies, was a team of assassins that had come together for one purpose.

Katya Romanov.

The Romanov omega loved Sergei, so of course it made sense that they would rally for his defense and justice after everything that had happened.

But everyone inside this room knew a different truth too.

If Katya had not reciprocated Sergei’s feelings, if he had not chosen Sergei, if he’d gone a different direction from the madman of the city...

This meeting still would have happened.

They’d still have been rallied like this.

Because it wasn’t that Katya Romanov was Sergei’s bane or his greatest obsession. Hell, this wasn’t even because he was the Romanov omega, no.

It was simple, really.

They were here...

Because Katya Romanov...

Was Katya Romanov.

"Anyone still not here yet?" Rastenkin spoke as he looked around the room.

Elara, Meera and Reeves, part of the Myrtles, were seated in the room already.

Anya, Volkov and Rahim had long taken their seats.

Svet, Andre and Irina were here too. Ready for whatever drive to insanity this was.

And Sergei...

He was there too.

Seated at the back. Straight posture, head held high, notebook in front of him like everyone else. You would think he didn’t assemble this crazy team.

"If anyone wants to leave, this is the time," Rastenkin said as he looked around the room.

Ten people.

Ten assassins.

Well, ten assassins and one devil if perspective was needed.

And when no one left, Rastenkin spoke again.

"Hello everyone. For those who don’t know me, I’m Rastenkin. And I’m the shopkeeper," the old man greeted, and Svet, Andre, and Irina looked at each other.

The shopkeeper.

No way.

"I’m sorry, WHAT?" Svet spoke up first, like she couldn’t wrap her head around what was happening. Maybe it was an illusion because no one had ever seen the shopkeeper, right?

Everyone knew the tales about the shopkeeper who appeared and disappeared when it was convenient. The one-man army whose loyalty was only ever to Sergei Moskowsky and Sergei Moskowsky only.

It should not have surprised them, really, given they were on a Moskowsky basement floor at nine o’clock in the night, but still, damn.

"The shopkeeper, Miss Vasilieva," Rastenkin said again, grabbing a whiteboard marker from his desk and writing it on the whiteboard for everyone to see.

The shopkeeper?

He was the final step. The man summoned when things needed a hard reset.

Because the shopkeeper wasn’t swayed by emotions.

He was just... Well, the shopkeeper.

The man who did whatever it took to make the mission a success. Didn’t matter who he cleared out or what he used. Didn’t matter how he did things, as long as he was done with his objective.

Because for the shopkeeper, no life was worth anything...

Save for Sergei Moskowsky’s life.

"Why are we here?" Andre asked flatly.

"Katya Romanov," Rastenkin said like it was the simplest of answers.

But Andre didn’t believe him.

"You’re lying," he said, getting up suddenly.

"Andre..." Svet tried, as she kept poking at the shopkeeper in question. She knew Andre was right not to believe this random man as the shopkeeper.

It was a little too convenient.

The man who’d never been seen suddenly making public appearances.

It was not right.

"If I’m going to sit here and be lectured by a middle-aged man who looks like he belongs in a nursing home, the least he could do is prove that he’s the shopkeeper.

"And not just because he thinks he has favor with the devil of Frolo," Andre said right as the door opened.

Through it... came Yaroslav.

Sergei straightened up at the sight of his son.

He didn’t think Yaroslav would come, not after everything that had happened between them.

Sergei hadn’t even had the chance to properly apologize to his son, and now they were here for an operation that was probably too dangerous, yet one that his son had insisted on being a part of.

Sergei had thought his son was trolling him when Yaro had asked for the location.

But now...

He wasn’t sure anymore.

"I do belong in a nursing home, Mr. Stepanov," Rastenkin said, and the Myrtles and Moskowsky camp groaned in unison.

"Here we go..." they grumbled under their breaths.

"I am schizophrenic," the Moskowsky team sighed exaggeratedly, and Andre stared at the old man.

"What?"

"A father only comes out of retirement for his son, Stepanov. In my case, I came from the nursing home because of my son," Rastenkin said, and Andre groaned.

But then...

Rastenkin stepped to the side.

Took off his coat.

Unbuttoned the first three buttons of his shirt.

Dipped his hand into his chest and changed faces. More like he took off the prosthetic he was wearing.

The moment the prosthetic was off, the Moskowsky alarms went off. Blaring relentlessly. Screaming like there was an attack inside the company.

"Alert! Alert! Breach in basement one! Alert!" The alarms went off, but that wasn’t what caught Andre’s attention.

It was the instant notification that hit everyone’s phones.

It was familiar.

Way too familiar.

Not just for the people in this room.

But for Frolo too.

Because the last time Frolo had gotten that anonymous alert, an entire organization was wiped out.

"Hello, Frolo. Long time no see. Let’s dance ~ The Shopkeeper."

Was the first alert that came through.

And the next...

Was from the government.

"Stay indoors. Do not go out unless necessary..." and a long list of safety precautions, like there was a virus in the air.

"The alarms are making me deaf, my little Sergio. Would you be a darling and turn them off?" he said to Sergei.

The entire room except Anya turned to Sergei.

"Little WHAT now??"

The alpha ignored them, including his son, who was staring like he was hearing rumors about his father, only that the rumor peddler was in the same room with them.

The fact that Anya hadn’t reacted to the name had Yaroslav wondering what level of his father’s sins and madness they had unlocked this time. Not that he was about to ditch his father, but damn, was it something else altogether.

"I told you, Rastenkin... I’m older now," Sergei grumbled before he stopped the blaring alarms with just a hand gesture to the cameras in the room.

"Good for you, son. The shop is open for business. Now... Onto your bratva leader playing former good senator..." the old man spoke, and Andre watched him.

Carefully.

Not trusting.

Yet the way the man interacted with Sergei...

Called Sergei his little Sergio...

That couldn’t be made up.

Not when he was the only person beside Anya who could make the devil of Frolo grumble like a tired child.

The shopkeeper was alive. Real. Here.

And Andre was on his team.

How exciting.