Chapter 369: But Redemption Doesn’t Fall Down At Your Feet

[FROLO]

Aleksandr had sent some of his best men after Sergei. The mission was simple.

Hurt the barbarian. Because then that would hurt Katya.

He needed Katya to feel some pain after the message Katya had sent him, and the only way he could think of was Sergei. There was literally no other way for him to gain access to Katya.

Going to Romanov Steel was suicide.

Hurting Katya directly would doom Frolo to ashes, especially since Yaroslav had once attacked Alek for what Alek had said to Katya.

And the plan was foolproof.

Save for the fact that the one they were after... was Sergei.

The thing is, Alek knew Sergei would be pissed at the attack and he would be reckless, and then Alek would get his revenge on Katya.

But then what he didn’t expect was to watch his men battered and murdered on the roadside like they were just an unfortunate group of men.

And worse...

To listen to Sergei freaking Moskowsky seek advice about Katya’s coworker named Greg for a whole hour while his man bled beside Sergei.

As if that wasn’t enough, when Sergei was done with his therapy session with Gregorio, he simply dragged some of the bodies onto the ground and piled them so Gregorio would have a comfortable seat while waiting for Aleksandr to come for him.

"Thanks, Gregorio, for the advice. I think you’re right. I can’t even scold Greg because Solnyshka would be angry. Anyway, have a good day and perhaps choose a new boss who cares for your well-being...

"Oh, and do not go around slashing people’s shirts when they have open necks, yeah?" Sergei had said before continuing his drive like he didn’t leave a pile of bodies on the highway like they were nothing.

Alek really didn’t know why he had ever expected anything from Sergei because this man was different. A very different breed of madness that even the psych ward couldn’t produce just yet.

"He really has lost his damn mind," Alek said angrily before he stepped out to get air. He couldn’t stay in the same space anymore, really.

And Kenzo followed him, staying silent the whole time.

Meanwhile, Sergei headed to the Hercules camp, all smiles and pissed about the shirt.

"Boss is here!" Meera announced when she saw her master drive in.

She, just like everyone else, could see the blood stains on his car, the dents that made no sense yet made sense at the same time. Because, knowing Sergei, he was probably ambushed, and he took care of things.

They didn’t even need cameras for that.

So, when Sergei walked in, hair ruffled, still grumbling about the cut on his ruined shirt, they were not surprised. Of course, the alpha would never be like normal people, and they had long accepted that.

"Sergio, you’re back," Rastenkin greeted.

"They ruined my shirt," was the first thing the alpha said, glaring at the cut still.

"What did you not do to get your shirt ruined?" Anya asked flatly, like this was not a new tantrum for her.

"Nothing... Aleksandr sent people after me to hurt my Solnyshka. And then they ruined it... But the worst part? I met another person called Greg. Of all the names in the realm.

"Why the fuck am I haunted by people named Greg?" Sergei huffed as he plopped on the couch like he couldn’t believe what terrible luck he had this morning.

"There’s no time to sulk about your ruined shirt. Get up," Anya said.

Sergei groaned.

"You won’t even ask me about what happened over the weekend?"

Anya glared at him, looking at her sandals and then at the barbarian who was quick to realize he was probably in imminent danger because of those damn slippers.

"Alright, alright, I’m up," he said, making Yaroslav laugh lightly at the sight.

So much time had passed, and yet even now, Anya’s sandals held so much power over his father. It was the nice kind of normal for them, really.

"He knows," Anya said, and Sergei stared at her, noticing how serious her tone had gotten.

"Who knows what?"

"Romanov knows about the cameras in his penthouse."

Sergei could swear his soul left his body in that instant.

Of course he’d been too happy today. Everything had gone a little more smoothly in the last few days than he’d imagined. It was like the universe was suddenly on his side.

And fuck, he should have known better.

Even then, what the hell, right?

"He WHAT now???" Sergei boomed, his mind finally catching up.

Suddenly, the grumbling alpha was gone, and in its place was a man who had just realized there were a lot of things at stake, and he probably didn’t even have a contingency for that. Not at the moment anyway.

"I know about them too, Father... Saw the cameras in your study, the long-form files from a decade ago," Yaroslav added casually.

Honestly, death didn’t sound like a bad idea for Sergei right now.

The alpha staggered visibly at his son’s voice. The way Yaroslav had spoken so calmly, like he wasn’t even disappointed. He felt nothing.

And that...

That terrified Sergei.

Because his son knew.

He had broken his child’s trust.

And while losing Katya’s trust was a nightmare for him, Yaroslav no longer trusting him was enough to kill Sergei. He couldn’t survive without his son.

His Vitya’s son.

"Son..." Sergei said, hoping to the gods he hadn’t completely fucked up his relationship with his son. That stalking Katya for so long hadn’t been the reason he lost his son.

Gods, he was doomed.

"I... I can explain... Please let me explain," Sergei faltered still, heart in his hands as he stared at his child of love. He couldn’t lose Yaroslav.

He wouldn’t survive it.

He knew it so well.

"There’s nothing to explain, Father," Yaroslav said passively, and Sergei could swear he heard a little disappointment.

He had failed.

At being a good father.

At protecting his son’s heart.

He’d failed his son.

How much more was he supposed to expect his son to be understanding? What kind of father forced his child into such situations and tried to explain it away each time?

Sergei had always known his past would come to haunt him, but not once did he think that it would all come at the same time.

Nearly eleven years of surveillance on Katya. Every single day. Every move Katya made. Every breath.

Sergei had been there. Physically. Sometimes having his people do the watching. He had hovered like a ghost that had died unloved.

And now... now there wasn’t a thing he could say that could justify what he had done.

Nothing.

"Yaro..." Sergei breathed, eyes lowered in absolute shame at what he had become.

Vitya would certainly not have approved of this.

And when Yaro didn’t say another word...

"I’ll leave. Stay away. Nothing I say will change what I did for over a decade. You can have Project Hercules. Just... please don’t lock me out of your life... I’m sorry, son," Sergei whimpered in shame still.

"You really lost your mind over your true mate, father."

"What?"

"We Moskowskys really need to learn healthy protection mechanisms for the people we love," Yaro said like they weren’t standing in a room of skilled assassins because someone called Katya a whore.

Sergei didn’t breathe.

"I ain’t ever seen lunatics this adorable," Rastenkin said, burping loudly, breaking the silence.

Still, Sergei didn’t breathe, his eyes on his son, his heart shattering at the idea of failing and losing his son.