Chapter 347: Grey Lotus Plan To Win Your Man

[FROLO]

Katya saw the way several emotions played across Sergei’s face the moment drunk Greg made the final sentence. He saw the vein on the alpha’s temple threaten to burst. The way Sergei sucked his teeth like he was trying his very best to be a rational alpha.

And in a club that was high-end and had so many people from the elite class in Frolo, Katya waited to see what his alpha would do. The way he was not even trying to hide his spite for the coworker who had tagged along was Katya’s favorite thing to watch.

Sergei Moskowsky was jealous in the one place he couldn’t even express his jealousy.

He looked like a constipated man, and fuck if that wasn’t the hottest thing Katya had ever seen.

In a small act of defiance, Katya lifted his scent patch that was hidden on his thigh. He didn’t want to put the patch on his shoulder because it would ruin his outfit. But right under his shorts was a place that no one would see, and he could adjust it accordingly.

And right now, he needed Sergei to know.

What he was feeling.

How he was feeling.

What he was thinking.

Because Katya Romanov had just realized his coworker was one Sergei-snap from a funeral home.

"How was your day, Mr. Vladimir?" Katya cooed softly, his voice low, his hand on his thigh busy lifting the patch and pressing it firmly back. As if he wanted to fuck with Sergei’s control.

Because Katya...

Only had desire in his eyes for Sergei right now.

Pure, unfiltered, filthy desire for the alpha who was desperately trying to be good for him. Gods, it was a sight for the heavens, and Katya would give everything to see this again.

"Oh, come on, guys. No time for corporate strategy. Let’s drink ourselves stupiddd!!" Greg slurred as he grabbed the bottle that had indeed been on the table and poured himself a little. The wine was tasty, but then Greg just needed a little.

"Here, let me help," Sergei offered, his eyes changing between golden yellow and black.

He was affected by Katya’s citrus scent. The flavor of that damn scent was bound to drive him to the ends of the world in madness. Not that he was complaining, but fuck if he was not feeling so stable right now.

"Thank you, Mr. Moskowsky," Greg said as he watched Sergei pour his wine into his glass.

But he didn’t stop.

Not when the glass was halfway.

Certainly not when the drink was so close to overflowing.

"Drink," Sergei said lowly to Greg, smirking at the man like this was a decision he had to make ever so carefully.

Thing is...

Greg was an alpha.

Sergei too.

Two alphas in the battle for Katya, but was it even a battle when one was threateningly hot, and the other was just...

Greg?

"Be a good alpha," Katya said, his voice low, and that seemed to get right into Greg’s head.

Because instead of playing the game of dominance with Sergei Moskowsky, Greg drank his wine while looking at Katya. While trying to please the omega whose alpha was right there, and Greg just didn’t know.

At the bar, Svet and Andre stood, smirking at the sight like it was the most ridiculous of things. They had wanted to have fun, but now it looked like one alpha was going to murder another alpha.

"That’s the third cup he’s poured, Greg," Andre snorted, as if they hadn’t seen the way the coworker had been trying so hard to please Katya.

"That alpha needs to stop before Sergei poisons him," Svet added as she watched the chaos silently unfold.

"They’re fucking each other with their eyes," Andre noted as he looked at Katya, who was all lovey-dovey eyes for Sergei Moskowsky.

If it wasn’t for the occasional blinking lights attuned to the music at the club, anyone with eyes would have seen the alpha and his omega staring at each other like they were just one room away from explosion night, their insides into forever.

"I think Sergei is about to snap Greg’s neck," Andre pointed out.

"Romanov will probably pout at him for the longest time."

"Hate us too."

"He won’t open the tab for us anymore."

"Shit, we need to hurry and save the night before we never get drinks."

That...

That was the only reason Svetlana and Andre walked towards Katya and Sergei, and a now very drunk Greg, who was drifting between consciousness and unconsciousness. He still looked so oblivious to the alpha who was trying to snuff him out with wine.

But maybe Greg wasn’t as oblivious. He was an alpha after all.

Perhaps this was a challenge for Sergei too?

Was that even a smart idea?

"Romanov, sweetie, you can go use the restroom now," Svet said, leaving no room for arguments.

Katya was confused for a moment before he noticed how Sergei was gripping the wine bottle hard. That shit looked like it was about to break in the next second. Took a moment for Katya to pick it up, and honestly, when he did, he smirked victoriously at Sergei.

Like that was what he wanted.

To see his alpha lose control.

Well, he was doing a pretty good job of it, because when Katya got up, the fur coat he’d been using to cover himself up fell, and he bent to pick it up right in front of Sergei Moskowsky.

As if that wasn’t already terrible enough for the barbarian’s sanity, Katya put his coat on the chair and walked toward the restroom.

He took his sweet time, walking past the group of bodies that were dancing in the night. He swayed to the beats like he was loving the effect he was having on everyone who was around him.

Katya Romanov looked like a siren, and every step he made toward the restroom was met with whispers of the prettiest omega the realm had ever laid eyes on.

Male and female alphas alike watched him walk away. Betas and even omegas smiled at him, their desire for him filling the air.

While Katya...

The omega didn’t even head to the washroom anymore.

In fact, Katya Romanov paused right at the final turn, only to turn back and join the dance floor. Like he had suddenly remembered that music was to be danced to.

And everybody watched.

"The Romanov siren," they murmured as he danced the night away.

"The omega who won hearts with his intelligence and beauty," others added while they tried to keep their cool.

Some were even palming their cocks at the sight before them. Smiling at Katya, while Katya just danced the night away as if he had nothing to worry about.

And he, today, had nothing to worry about.

His day may have started in the worst of ways, but it had ended perfectly. With the people he loved and cared about. His kind coworker was here with him, even if the man was alcohol-drunk already and snoring much to Sergei’s displeasure.

His friends were hyping him up, watching as he danced and cheering at the sight, like this was the Katya they had been fighting to show the world all these years.

Sergei was close to murdering someone.

Anyone.

Then "Streets" by Doja Cat played.

Sergei knew there and then that he was a dead man.

"Fuck," Sergei groaned as Katya danced slowly to the song.

The alpha grumbled like someone had just shown him what his tombstone would look like:

"Here lie the remains of Sergei Moskowsky, murdered by Katya Romanov’s existence."