Chapter 358: Honeysuckle: So This Is Love Under The Sun

[FROLO]

Sergei understood. Of course he did. He was a father too, but he couldn’t hide the surprise on his face at Mr. Romanov’s words.

The man sounded different.

Desperate in the kind of way that told Sergei that there was just a point where even fathers, no matter how powerful they were, would never be able to get into. And he stared at the man again like he was learning that love didn’t have to be violent.

Sergei’s love for his son came with absolute protection. If someone hurt Yaro, Sergei would make the entire city pay.

Mr. Romanov...

He was sacrificing. Everything.

That was an option Sergei would never have considered, but at the same time, his world and Mr. Romanov’s world were different, and they both knew it.

"I understand," Sergei said, trying to steady his voice and hide the raw emotion behind it all. He couldn’t let the old man see just how affected he was by his words.

Then again, was there even a need to hide when Old Romanov knew Sergei loved his son, much to his displeasure?

"The agreement is not a necessity, Mr. Romanov," Sergei said, and Mr. Romanov stared at him like he was trying to figure out if this was a trap or not.

Maybe he was not that heavy on trusting Sergei Moskowsky with boardroom mannerisms. But could he even be blamed? Sergei was a business vulture.

"The shares are in Soln— in Katya’s name. All of them. And no one will buy you out. Because the contract we signed five years ago is ironclad. No one can dispute it in any court of law. Not even you, unfortunately.

"Which means that everything that is there will not change. I just figured I’d change the investment name because you probably already figured out there isn’t a real person called Soln— called like that.

"Anyway, that is why I came today, because I filed the change in the morning," Sergei said in earnest, and Mr. Romanov listened.

But he didn’t change the look on his face, the way he was trying to read through Sergei even though by now he probably understood that it was pointless.

"So, you didn’t come to see Michka?" Mr. Romanov asked, staring right into Sergei’s eyes.

Challenging the devil of Frolo.

Sergei gave up first.

"I... I... uhm... I also wanted to ask you for..." Sergei rambled, scratching the back of his head nervously.

Mr. Romanov’s stance didn’t change.

He just stared at Sergei, like he was challenging the alpha in the one subject that he must have known Sergei would never truly be able to win against him.

"We don’t have all day, Mr. Moskowsky," Mr. Romanov reminded him, and Sergei walked over to the water dispenser in Old Romanov’s office, grabbed the disposable water cups, and poured himself some.

"It’s hot in here," Sergei mumbled, drinking the first cup, the second, the third.

By his fifth cup...

"Are you a kidney patient, Mr. Moskowsky?" Mr. Romanov asked, unamused.

"What? No..."

"Then out with it. Whatever you came here for," Mr. Romanov insisted.

"Right," Sergei said, tone clipped carefully as he sat on the couch further from the Romanov alpha.

"I... I had a request regarding... uhm... regarding your son," Sergei said, and Mr. Romanov stared flatly, not even moved by what the man was saying.

"I have better things to do than sit here and listen to you ramble. You can walk yourself out. Come back when you have your thoughts in order," Mr. Romanov said, pressing a button on his desk, and the door lock turned.

"I wanted to..." Sergei trailed off as he got up, his palms sweaty, and he broke into a cold sweat.

"Mr. Moskows—" Mr. Romanov began, and Sergei interrupted him.

"May I date your son... sir," Sergei rushed out, still scratching the back of his neck.

"I mean... with your permission. If you say no, I’ll just... I’ll just walk away... Never talk to him again... of course, unless it’s business. Moskowsky-Romanov business," Sergei added nervously.

Mr. Romanov stared.

Really stared.

The devil of Frolo... The man even the devil was scared of was not able to form proper sentences because of...

Oh, this was insane.

"Are you having a stroke, Mr. Moskowsky?" Mr. Romanov asked like he didn’t know why it was that made the big bad wolf of Frolo that nervous.

"No... I just... I wanted to ask for your permission before... before I told everyone else he was my boyfriend... I mean, I’d ask him first too. If he’s okay with being public.

"But it felt right asking his... father for permission... first," Sergei breathed shakily as he looked at Mr. Romanov, scratching the inside of his palms as if that was supposed to be distraction enough.

"What if I say no?" Mr. Romanov asked.

Sergei stilled for a moment, wiping the cold sweat from his forehead and temple before straightening up.

"Then I’d respect the decision and leave. I’m okay with loving him from a distance, Mr. Romanov," Sergei said as he straightened up, his posture stiff before his face went back to the mask he always wore.

Cold.

Unreadable.

Precise.

Yet understanding.

Mr. Romanov saw the change happen, and he stared in awe for a moment.

The city of Frolo had always whispered about the devil of Frolo who changed faces in seconds, like he was just pulling one off and letting the other be seen.

No one had believed it for years, but the horror stories had stayed.

And now, inside this room, Mr. Romanov didn’t even need to ask Sergei any more questions to know that if he said no to the relationship, Sergei would leave and never come back. That Sergei would respect the decision and never once come back.

That he would never linger again.

Sergei Moskowsky was a man of his word. It was what the city knew him for.

What even Mr. Romanov knew him for.

That’s why it was always easier to trust deals made by Moskowsky Group than any other, because the chairman may have been the barbarian who gave zero fucks about everything, but he was a man of his word.

"You love him that much?" Mr. Romanov asked.

"I’d rather watch him from a distance than be the reason he hurts, Mr. Romanov. I’m not perfect; I don’t even understand emotions properly most of the time, even with the help of a therapist. The smile on his face is one I aspire to make sure never disappears.

"...I know that sounds rehearsed, and gods help me, I have no way to make you trust me. But I hope you can trust that I’d choose death over being the reason his heart breaks again," Sergei said, before stepping toward the door.

"Have a good day, Mr. Roma—" Sergei said right as the door opened and a glaring Masha walked in.

"I shall take my leave now, Mrs. Romanov," Sergei added, but the woman didn’t move from the door.

"You’re not going anywhere, Sergei," she said, a soft smile on her face, her son right behind her, looking at Sergei with even tender eyes.

Gods, Katya Romanov was insanely beautiful.

"But it—" Sergei began, ready to defend Mr. Romanov’s decision.

He knew it was not easy for the man to trust him with Katya, and he was more than ready to earn that trust, no matter how long it took.

"You can date our son. We trust you. My husband is just too weary from the last hurt Katya has endured. But I trust you, and I’m hoping I’m not making a mistake.

"Now go with your boyfriend before this old stubborn man makes you mow the grass with a pair of scissors," Masha said, stepping to the side, granting Sergei access to the one person Sergei cared so much about in this manor.

Sergei looked at Mr. Romanov, silently hoping the man didn’t think Sergei was disrespecting him.

"I still don’t like you for my son, Mr. Moskowsky. Get going now," he huffed, and Sergei smiled before leaving, Katya’s hand in his, leading the way through the manor.

"He didn’t use the katana on you... Papa really likes you," Katya laughed, while Sergei wondered if that was how Old Romanov showed affection.

Goodness, that man almost gave him a stroke.

"I almost died," the alpha breathed, and Katya hunched over, laughing at the most terrifying man in Frolo who had clearly found someone he was terrified of.

"You’ll be fine... Boyfriend."

"I was going to ask you aft—"

"Title or no title, you’re mine, Vladimir."

"Aye, aye, boyfriend."

Sergei’s heart had never been that full.