Chapter 435: Flowers Bloom In The Darkest Of Places

[FROLO]

Patience, Sergei told himself.

He’s definitely not having it any easier inside that palace alone, Sergei reminded himself.

Just thirty more minutes, Sergei convinced himself.

The world around him was moving.

The bar he was still sitting at was filled with chaos and cheers, a normalcy he’d gotten used to after every football match. It was nothing serious. Just men and women cheering while they spent the rest of the night happy.

But Sergei wasn’t happy.

He was losing his mind.

Patience was not a virtue he would receive, yet the fact that he knew Katya wanted him to wait until the last minute didn’t make it any better for him.

He had so much he wanted to say.

So much he wanted to fix.

But one thing Sergei was going to make sure of was that no one would ever separate him from Katya. He would die if they tried that again.

He didn’t trust himself to stay alive and function well after that desperate long road, and it was disheartening.

"Your boyfriend will be fine. Don’t worry too much," the man from before said, and Sergei noticed he’d come with two other men. He knew them, not that he was scared of anything with them.

But still, he was confused as to why they were here.

So he raised a third brow at them as he downed what was his seventh beer of the night in the past two hours.

Sergei needed to get drunk, which wasn’t ever going to be possible for him because he was a high-ranking alpha with an extremely high metabolism.

Which meant that alcohol was just like water for him; it would take effect for three to five seconds, and then Sergei would be back to normal.

It didn’t help at all, yet Sergei still downed bottle after bottle because maybe if he drank too much, the moon goddess would have mercy on him and grant him the mercy of seeing his Katya again.

"You don’t have to talk to us. We just noticed you were lonely and sad the whole game. Figured if we came and made small talk around you, you wouldn’t feel so alone."

Sergei stared in shock.

"You... you do know who I am, right?" Sergei asked, like he was trying to confirm that these people knew he was the Devil of Frolo.

Because even if they pretended within these walls, Sergei Moskowsky was always going to be Sergei Moskowsky.

And on a night when the love of his life was missing, he didn’t exactly feel like the philanthropist or football lover Katya Romanov had turned him into.

He just wanted Katya.

"Yup. A man with a sad heart," the man said before he turned to someone in the back:

"Ayo, Garik! Are you butchering the cow yourself, or are you trying to fucking scam us again?!"

The people at the table laughed at the familiarity of it all. And while their friend kept on shouting toward the bar, they turned to Sergei.

"Pavel is always like this when there is meat involved," one of them said, and the man, Pavel, glared at them.

"Without me, you’d be eating bones instead of meat. You guys know how Garik is a pain when making us meat," Pavel complained before going back to his business of shouting profanities at the man, Garik, who was also shouting.

"What is your name?" Pavel asked when he was sure Garik wasn’t scamming them again.

Sergei looked at the watch on his wrist.

Twenty minutes.

Fuck, time was moving so slowly.

"Ser—" Sergei began, and they looked at him, laughing lightly.

"He meant, what would you like us to call you? People come here to get away from the real world. Even Pavel isn’t his real name. He picked it up from a raffle. He’s Pavel, I’m Milos, and this silent man is Timur," Milos said, and Sergei stared.

Really stared.

On one end, he was struggling to formulate a really good way to tell them to fuck the hell off and leave him be.

But on the other, he could already imagine Katya’s disappointment when Katya realized that Sergei was being mean to people who only wanted to keep him company.

"Buran," Sergei said after a long silence.

He knew it was going to be easier to pass time with this yapping trio instead of wallowing in his sorrows while reacting with self-control when, in truth, he wanted to burn Frolo and everyone down.

"Well, nice to meet you, Buran," Garik said as he placed a platter of food right in front of Sergei.

The alpha stared, confused, hoping to the gods this wasn’t just another way for people to buy favor from him because, frankly, Sergei felt like committing murders.

He was only behaving because Katya would be upset, and if this was another chance for people to try and mess with him, he would leave without causing a scene and giving another family a funeral right after he had saved one.

"I... I should go," Sergei said.

Timur, the silent one, spoke.

He had been silent, not silent per se, but he was the one who let out at most seven words per minute while his friends rambled like they had running mouths.

"Pavel mentioned you looked sad when he made the order. That’s why Garik is giving it to you first," Timur said, and frankly Sergei was astounded.

"What?"

"The one with a long day gets to decide the portion everyone else eats. Like now, if you decided to eat it all, we won’t complain," Pavel said in earnest.

Sergei let out an involuntary snort.

The food on the damn platter was enough to feed seven adult men.

What the fuck were these men made of?

"I really should go," Sergei insisted.

Garik grabbed the platter, pulling it toward him.

"Looks to me like you boys are not eating tonight," Garik laughed, and the trio looked at him, then at Sergei.

"Listen, Buran... if you save us tonight, we’ll come with you to stone that damn police station keeping your boyfriend locked up," Pavel said, practically begging while Garik kept laughing at the way he was pleading.

"I carry rotten eggs to throw at people when I’m pissed on match days like today. I’ll throw them at the police station, just please don’t let him take it back," Milos added.

Sergei couldn’t help but laugh lightly at the absurd sight.

Sighing, he looked at his watch.

Eighteen minutes.

Shit, time wasn’t moving. What the hell?

"Fine, I’ll stay. But for fifteen minutes," Sergei said in earnest, holding his hotpot tightly for composure.

"Brother, say no more. This will be over in ten," Pavel said before turning to Garik, who was clearly not expecting the change of heart from the heartbroken alpha.

"Be gone now; we are about to eat."

"You won’t always be lucky, Pavel," Garik groaned before he walked away, clearly disappointed.

"Fifteen minutes, boys, let’s clear this platter and go egg some police station!" Pavel cheered even as more beers came through.

And for fifteen minutes, Sergei ate with the loudest bunch of men he’d ever interacted with, who got drunk themselves stupid.

By the time the fifteen minutes were over, the trio was passed out and snoring.

"I’ll take care of them, Buran... you seem to have an appointment somewhere. See you next matchday," Garik said calmly.

"Will they be fine?"

"Yeah... they’ll sleep in the back and go home tomorrow to avoid being killed by their wives," Garik reassured, and Sergei smiled before leaving.

The president’s five-hour waiting period...

...Was over.