Chapter 433: Everything Reminds Me Of You

[FROLO]

Sergei didn’t go home.

It would be empty without Katya, especially since it was already evening.

He was used to getting home early before Katya, preparing a warm bath for his Solnyshka, making snacks, and turning on his omega’s favorite channel so when Katya came home tired, he wouldn’t have to do much on his own.

But their routine had been interrupted.

If Sergei went home now to that emptiness, he would most probably become a maniac this evening, and that wasn’t what Katya would want for him, not when Sergei himself had volunteered five hours to the government.

It wasn’t exactly an easy choice for Sergei.

Maybe that was why now Sergei was walking the road to the Bratva HQ, his pelmeni pot the only thing that kept his emotions steady right now. But only because Katya had touched it and it still reeked of Katya’s citrus scent.

That was the alpha’s only solace right now.

Five hours was a lot of time.

Too much, if Sergei was being honest.

But trust was something he had to exercise, because otherwise the world would burn too soon.

So, like a good citizen, Sergei knocked on the Bratva gate.

It was huge, and black and maybe... nice?

Probably.

Sergei was too bored to think clearly right now, and he was very aware that this would raise a few blood pressures.

However, since the government had decided to invade the life of Sergei’s beloved, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if Sergei invaded the life of their beloved Bratva too, right?

"Who’s there at this hou— SERGEI MOSKWOSKY????" the man at the gate shrieked, and in an instant, Sergei was surrounded by Bratva men, their weapons pointed at him.

He could literally smell the fear off of them, but Sergei wasn’t here to fight.

At least not right now.

If they wanted to, though, he wasn’t opposed to it.

Not after the kind of day he had had.

"Hello... do you have water? Kinda feel thirsty, and my throat is dry," Sergei said calmly like he had knocked on his kind neighbors’ door and wasn’t fazed at the fact that there were several weapons aimed at him.

He was dangerous; he knew it.

But he was here for water.

"Sergei Moskowsky at our door... thirsty?" the man who opened the gate asked skeptically as he looked at the man. Surely there had to be more that Sergei was here for, but how were they supposed to tell what was real and what?

"Yup. Water," Sergei said, still as calm.

He could see the way they were all antsy around him, how they were shaking even as they tried to hold their own. For people who took pride in being part of the crew that terrorized his Solnyshka, they sure were a piece of work.

Maybe they needed to go back to training school?

Did they even have those, or were they recruited and handed guns with prayers to their fate? Well, Sergei didn’t mind really because now he was here to pick a fight with anyone.

There were thirty-seven guns pointed at him; he’d noticed.

He could smell silver on thirteen blades that were visible and six that were hidden in the boots.

Three people were currently loading their silencers; he could hear the metal rubbing against metal.

He could even hear the whispers about how they didn’t trust him and how they needed to be skeptical about the one man without a cage big enough to hold him.

’I’m already in a cage, without my Solnyshka,’ Sergei thought bitterly to himself as he thought back to Katya urging him to let the authorities do their job so they would be together tomorrow or the day that followed.

But the one hour he’d walked here was already agonizing for Sergei.

He would lose his shit if he had to wait a day.

Frolo would burn if they kept his Solnyshka in there for two days.

"Just so you know, your hospitality is horrible, by the way. A dying man is at your door asking for something as simple and as cheap as water, and you have your guns pointed at me.

"Is the water coming anytime soon, or should I go in and draw it myself from the well?" Sergei asked, bored of standing.

He was not leaving this place.

For as long as Katya was in the damn presidential palace, Sergei would stay here.

The only question was whether they let him in peacefully or he walked over their injured or dead bodies, depending on what they said about his Katya.

"Water? Is that all you seek?" the man from before asked, still shaking.

Right then, an SUV drove up behind Sergei and the people here.

Stinking blueberry.

Aleksandr Petrovsky was here.

Awesome.

"Yes. I am just a thirsty man who is asking for water. You give me water, and I will go home; it’s really that simple," Sergei said, lying through his teeth.

But he had all the markers for sincerity; after all, this wasn’t his first rodeo.

"What the hell are you doing here?!" Alek boomed, making his people part for him.

"Rastenkin sent me to give you a gift," Sergei shrugged casually, like it was another day for him.

"What?"

"You’ll get it if you give me water. Otherwise you won’t know what it is. And from the way he talked after your little meeting, I believe this could really mean something to you," Sergei said, and Alek stiffened.

Rastenkin.

Of course that bastard who drove him into it was the only one who was capable of pulling shit like this.

But the fact that Sergei, Rastenkin’s boss, was here himself didn’t make it any better. This madman had had him kidnapped and stuck with mentally afflicted people for over three hours.

He did not trust whatever the fuck came out of his mouth.

"Sir, should we give him water? He is not carrying any weapons," one of the new warriors said, and everyone collectively facepalmed.

Sergei, on the other hand, just walked to the man, a smile on his face. A genuine smile.

"You would give me water?" Sergei asked in earnest.

"I mean..." the man trailed off in uncertainty.

Of course he wasn’t sure about Sergei Moskowsky, but still the man came with a pot reeking of citrus and pelmeni; surely, he couldn’t be as bad without any weapons, right?

"Yes or no, soldier?" Sergei asked again.

"Yes. It’s just water. Even enemies are granted the mercy of a bottle of water in war," the man said cluelessly.

Oh, he was definitely getting fired.

"Where is your family?" Sergei asked.

"Don’t even think about it," Aleksandr threatened the man.

"Tell me... You can trust me," Sergei encouraged.

"I... I don’t know. We’re not allowed to talk about our families. Only Sir Aleksandr knows where they are."

Sergei smiled at him.

"Do you want to see them now, or do you want to keep fighting the war?"

"My wife is pregnant. If I go home like this, I won’t have money to pay the bills. I’ll go home after the war. Besides, if I die in war, sir said he’d take care of my family."

Sergei nodded in understanding.

Then he turned to Alek, aggressively choking the man and making the others with weapons step back, their weapons still pointed at Sergei.

"Bring his family to the Moskowsky Group gates in an hour. If they come hurt, I will replicate every wound on them on you. And your mother-in-law’s thumb will be the least of your problems," Sergei said, pulling a thumb from the hidden bottom layer of the hotpot.

Alek almost called the bluff.

But he saw it.

The Joram tattoo Mr. Smirnova had on her thumb.

"You LUNATIC!!!" Alek shouted, the grip Sergei had on him not faltering.

"If his family disappears, this headquarters will burn, and I’ll be holding the matchstick myself," Sergei warned, dropping Alek to the ground harshly.

Turning to the man who managed to turn around Sergei’s anxiety for the night:

"If you come with me, you’ll never have to hold a gun or fight to save or provide for your family again. And you and your lineage will never be dragged into any of the city’s wars," Sergei offered.

"Bu—"

"Go. You’re fucking fired!!" Alek said, gesturing for his men to lower their weapons.

"Looks like I have no job now, Mr. Moskowsky," the man said sadly.

"Romanov Steel is hiring; there’s always a chance for people with pure hearts like yours," Sergei offered, keeping in mind that Romanov Steel was the face of legitimacy in the city.

Moskowsky Holdings was... well... Moskowsky Holdings.

"Thank you," the man said, going on his knees, only for Sergei to stop him.

"No. We Moskowskys don’t kneel. As for the water... I hope blueberry Alek over there chokes on it and dies," Sergei said genuinely, before huffing at Aleksandr in the last bit.

And Sergei left, hotpot still in hand.

With the only man who showed him unleveraged kindness today.