Chapter 379: Weren’t We The Stars In Heaven

[FROLO]

The Moskowsky household had only one rule.

Call Dad.

If something goes wrong? Call Dad.

If you’re not feeling too good? Call Dad.

If you’re in trouble with anyone at all? Call Dad.

If your day is terrible? Call Dad.

Regardless of age and time, call Dad... whenever.

Because in case of anything, regardless of the magnitude, Dad always knew what to do. Dad would always fix it, or unfix it.

Dad was always there, even if he wasn’t physically.

And of course, when the morning came and the trio that had been arrested for endless fights last night got their one phone call?

Yaroslav knew what to do.

Call Dad.

Because it was better for Sergei to hear it from his mouth, even if Sergei probably had been notified of the incident last night the moment it happened.

"You are WHERE?!" Sergei asked exasperatedly on the other end of the call.

The officers had pleaded with Yaroslav to put his father on speaker so they could know whether to prepare for the worst or the best. And honestly, it was already scary enough even now.

Because Yaroslav could have gotten anyone to bail him out. Anyone. He had his assistant in Knox. He had the Hercules camp to come get them. He had an entire network assigned to him by his father.

But then, in the Moskowsky household, only Dad mattered.

"I didn’t get hurt... besides, I went to the police myself... well, ourselves," Yaroslav said, scratching the back of his neck nervously like he wasn’t the son of the most unhinged man to ever walk the city of Frolo and the realm altogether.

"Yaroslav. Gamov. Moskwosky," Sergei strained.

It was six o’clock in the morning, and he probably hadn’t even had enough sleep, and now his son was calling from the precinct because he had gone and done something that he always did whenever he was in the company of his friends.

"Irina and—" Yaroslav began, and Sergei let out an exasperated sigh before speaking.

"Nikolai Korin," the alpha groaned like he didn’t even have to prod to know the two were always cooped up in everything together.

"Err... Good morning, Uncle," Nik greeted nervously, like this was just another day in the mad Moskowsky household.

"Tell me what happened, Yaro. You leave out a detail, you’re going to the farm with me," Sergei said on the other end of the phone, and everyone who was listening watched in surprise as the Moskowsky heir and his best friend changed faces.

It was like they had just realized the horror of what they had done.

Going farming with Sergei was hell. Serious hell because that alpha knew damn well the boys didn’t know the first thing about farming.

Yaro was over thirty years old, but he was still his father’s son. Still the boy who got terrified by his father’s threats and warnings because no one ever wanted to go to the farm.

"Irina started it, Uncle," Nikolai said, making Irina glare at him as if this was not what she had signed up for.

"Throw me under the bus, why don’t ya?" Irina glared.

"Sorry, sis, farming is worse than the psych ward. I’d much rather end up in the psych ward," Nikolai shrugged, making everyone else stare amusedly.

Yaroslav, on the other hand, was already yapping about the events of the night, the same things that he and his friends had refused to tell the police officers.

Honestly, when they were asked about what had happened, they gave terrible answers that made it even harder to defend or charge them.

But one question and mention of the farm by Sergei Moskwosky, and the Moskowsky heir was singing as he had just found his voice.

"Are you wearing a sweater, kid?" Sergei asked, and Yaro looked at himself, then at Nik, then at Irina.

They all had none.

There were two options.

Come clean to Sergei, or lie to the man, and he would still smell the lie off them from endless miles away. There really was no getting out of this with ease. But then his father wasn’t there.

And besides, Yaroslav could be a good liar after so many years, right?

"Yup. Absolutely. Me, Irina, and Nik are wearing sweaters. Of course we would wear them. The night was a beautiful one," Yaroslav rambled, and the people at the police station suddenly went stiff.

"He won’t come now. Just go on with your duties," Yaroslav mouthed to them in reassurance, like he wasn’t Yaroslav Moskwosky. And they didn’t change their faces. If anything, they had gotten even stiffer, if that was possible at the moment.

"Oh, really now?" his father’s voice hit his ears.

Not on the phone.

But right at the door of the police station, two steaming coffee cups in his hands, looking like he had better to do than be here.

Yet he was glad to see his son was alive and well.

"Oh, heyyy, Uncle," Nikolai greeted, and Sergei gave him one look that had him shutting up instantly.

The police station air had changed so much in an instant.

The Devil of Frolo was in here.

The Devil of Frolo never forgave anything related to his son, and frankly, they were just hoping the man didn’t get mad at them and flatten the police station.

"Well, aren’t you a ray of sunshine, Moskwosky," Irina greeted, and Sergei stared at her like he was not expecting her to be here.

But at the same time, it was a pointless moment because Yaroslav had grown up with Irina being his cool aunt.

Of course, they would somehow be stuck in mischief together for one reason or another.

"I already bailed you out. Meera is waiting for you outside," Sergei said to his best friend, who just smiled at him before she rushed out, ignoring Nik and Yaro, who were staring at her in disbelief at how fast she took the way out.

Oh, that woman.

"Hello, Father..." Yaroslav said as he looked at his father heading his way. He was ready with another defense the moment Sergei set the coffee cups on the counter.

Instead, his father pulled him into a hug before dragging Nikolai into the hug too.

The Devil of Frolo hugged the two adults like they were his lifeline, and people watched in awe and surprise because no one had ever thought the Devil of Frolo was even capable of giving a hug.

Yet the man was hugging Nik and Yaro like he hadn’t seen them in forever.

Then he stepped back from the hug, checking them both out, looking for any injuries that didn’t align with what Yaro had told him.

Everyone knew what he was looking for.

They knew he was trying to see if his son had been tortured in here and if there was something that they had done to scar his son. It was the moment when many held their breath.

The alpha checked Yaroslav out like Yaro was his little boy still and not the thirty-plus-year-old man who had a life and knew what to do to defend himself.

The same went for Nikolai.

Only when Sergei was convinced they were not hurt in here did he relax visibly.

As did everyone around them.

"You two sent seventeen people to the hospital. Seventeen. On a fucking weekday. What the fuck?" Sergei scolded, glaring at the two men who stood there listening like they knew this was coming from miles away.

Sergei looked like a grumpy dad who had just walked in on his kids doing what he had told them not to.

"Only six had severe injuries," Yaroslav defended, and Sergei stared at his son like the man had lost his damn mind.

"You mean only six had emergency surgeries last night across different hospitals in Frolo?" Sergei huffed.

"They’re being dramatic, Uncle," Nikolai defended, and Yaroslav snorted.

"This littl—" Sergei glared at both of them again before turning to the officers.

"How much is their bail?"

"I told you we are safe because we’re grown-ups," Nik whispered.

"Bro, he doesn’t see me as the CEO of Knox Tech or you as the CEO of Korin Industries," Yaro reminded.

"Right, I keep forgetting that to him we’re always going to be his kids... gods help us all," Nik said right before Sergei spoke.

"Two hundred hours of volunteer work does sound like proper punishment, officers. They will begin today, after work hours."

Then he turned to Nik and Yaro.

"Let’s go home, boys." The alpha handed them coffee after the officers returned their things.

"Wait, TWO HUNDRED HOURS? The fuck?" they complained.

"They’ll do three hundred hours, officers," Sergei volunteered.

"Alright, alright, we’re volunteering, uncle, let’s just get out of here first," Nik sighed.

As they walked out, the precinct officers and staff only had one question:

"What the fuck did we just watch?"

Meanwhile, the people in question:

"You think they bought it, father?" Yaro asked smugly when they got to the car.

"We’ll know soon, son," Sergei said, like they didn’t just leave behind a terrified and confused precinct.

"You’re still doing the volunteer hours, though," the alpha added, his insistence something that was met with groans from his son and Nik.

"Are you serious, uncle? That’s unfairrr; they’re the ones who had runny mouths and weak bones. Why do we have to suffer for that?" Nikolai sighed exasperatedly, knowing so well the barbarian wasn’t about to change his mind about this.

"Because I raised both of you better than to end up in jail for misdemeanors... You keep complaining, and you’ll report to the farm instead of work."

Neither of the boys spoke again.