Contract Marriage: Married to My Ex-Husband's Alpha Stepfather [BL]

Chapter 11: Dance With Me, Let The Fates Decide

[FROLO]

Away from the hospital, the city of Frolo was slowly waking to the realization of the intensity of things.

The press was on the case that had everyone intrigued. A case that had many terrified, while others were already preparing themselves for loss. freeweɓnovēl.coɱ

But in a particular office downtown, someone was particularly not pleased with the way things were going. There was too much attention on the madness that came with Sergei’s situation.

It was as if the world itself had narrowed, and the devil of Frolo was actually ruining lives openly this time.

The only problem was that they knew.

They understood.

Sergei Moskowsky had nothing to care about. Nothing to worry about.

Even if he lost his empire, he would rebuild it in weeks with the connections he had. The kinds of connections that could only ever get depleted if he alone killed the people he had gotten to interact with.

Hell, was this a kind of insanity?

"His phone is still dead, Anya," Volkov tried to reason with the woman who had been pacing from the moment the news of the Aslava hospital situation hit the media.

It was something that she wanted to scold Sergei for, but how was she to do that if she didn’t even know how to get to him?

"Unbelievable," Anya sighed exaggeratedly, the veins on her forehead so close to popping.

She had told Sergei not to kill anyone.

But two shots had been fired in the hospital.

Not with silencers.

Shots that were heard around the hospital.

And Anya knew Sergei enough to know that that had been done intentionally.

Sergei wasn’t new to the business of killing people. There was a reason everyone who knew him called him the devil of Frolo.

Now, as Anya paced and Volkov tried to figure out what was happening at the hospital, there was only one question.

Who had Sergei shot?

"Have you tried calling the hospital?" Anya sighed.

"The lines are busy."

"I can imagine. Aslava is a huge hospital, and Sergei decided to turn it into a warzone," Anya sighed as she stared at the television.

It was there.

The live coverage of the situation in the Aslava hospital. The army had been brought in. The police. Hospital guards. There was way too much security there for one person. Even if it was Sergei.

But then what was she even thinking now?

"What of Romanov steel?" Volkov dared to ask.

"Did you do what he told you to?"

"Yes. Everything is done. The markets closed, and Romanov is back at the top again."

"Wait... that’s it."

"What?"

"Romanov Steel. That is how we know what Sergei did," Anya said like she had finally gotten the solution to everything that was and wasn’t.

Perhaps it was a long shot, but then at this point, without anyone to talk to, Sergei and the hostage situation there, they had run out of options. Something had to give, and this was the only viable option.

"What do you mean?" Volkov asked, clearly not getting anything.

He had been told to work on Romanov and pay for all the debts, and he had done it. Barely before the stock market closed. It was the hardest thing he had ever done since he had known Sergei and started working for the man.

On most days, it was worth it, but on days like this, Volkov found himself wondering if his boss was alright.

"Masha Romanova has a heart condition. Sergei got her a heart this morning. She is in Aslava..."

"The same hospital as Katya."

"Exactly. Which means that by now, Mr. Romanov knows his son’s condition and his wife’s. That is most definitely with either of his family members. We just have to gamble and pray that he is with Sergei at this moment.

"That is our way through," Anya said, and Volkov stared.

The idea was brilliant. Perfect even.

But the stakes...

Gods, the stakes were impossible.

This was not just about a normal person.

This was about a whole family that had been turned messier because of Sergei.

There was the question of whether Mr. Romanov knew what his son had been roped into. If Sergei had made an admission to the poor old man. There were just way too many and right now, they were out of time.

The press wasn’t doing them any good with the information that was coming out in bits. Sergei’s men, who usually followed him, were definitely occupied, possibly at the hospital too, with the barbarian.

"But isn’t that—" Volkov tried, but Anya cut him short.

"Do you ever pray, Volkov?" Anya asked.

"What?"

"Do you pray? Have someone to pray to? A higher power, perhaps? The moon, the sun, the almighty deities? Someone?" Anya asked as Volkov stared, unsure of what this was supposed to even mean for him.

Where was this headed, and what was the point of it all at this moment, though?

"We all pray to the moon goddess, don’t we?" Volkov asked, as if that wasn’t already obvious enough, they were wolves.

Who else would they revere anyway?

"Then pray harder. We need all we can get, because if Romanov doesn’t pick up, we will have a massacre to clean up later," Anya said before she dialed the one person who could save the city from unnecessary deaths.

"Fuck," Anya sighed when Mr. Romanov didn’t pick up.

So, she tried. Again. And again. And Again.

By the fifth try, she was giving up, only for the television to light up with worse news.

"Turn that shit up," she said.

And Volkov did.

While wearing the same shocked look as hers.

Confusion. Uncertainty. And a loyalty that was so fierce it didn’t matter what the devil of Frolo did.

Over the cliff... had always been their mantra for the barbarian.

"Yaroslav Gamov moved to a different hospital with a cut ear and two gunshot wounds," the first channel announced.

"Why the hell would they move him? Isn’t he getting treatment at that hospital?" Volkov asked, before his brain caught up.

Of course, Sergei wouldn’t want him there. Not that close to Katya. Not in a place where the man would want to get back to the omega Sergei had staked ownership on.

Anya read. Stared at the facts.

But even then, she didn’t believe it.

She couldn’t.

So, she shifted channels, desperate for anything that could make any of this make sense.

But they were the same.

Just with different wordings.

As if that was supposed to make Anya feel better, or even Volkov feel lighter.

The effects had stayed, something that they wouldn’t be able to shake off. Not the disappointment. Not the shock.

But even worse, the madness of Sergei Moskowsky had been announced to the world.

It was the hottest news of the evening.

Slowly, the city of Frolo connected the dots.

The father... had shot the son.

The why was a mystery.

But not to two of the very few people in the huge city with the slightest inkling of what had happened. The people who understood and yet didn’t even have someone to tell what had happened.

Because this was beyond them.

This was beyond any pact of secrecy and loyalty.

This was war.

Sergei had waged a war.

And Katya was right in the middle of it.

"Anya..." Volkov strained, his words not even making sense to him.

The only thing he managed to let out was the woman’s name. The only woman whose opinion Sergei valued the most, and yet the same woman who was staring at the very mess she had warned Sergei not to get into.

"That barbarian went nuts," Anya sighed as Volkov handed her a few pills for her blood pressure.

But even those pills didn’t do anything today when they always were fast-acting over the years.

"He is going to send me to my grave this early. This idiot is going to be the death of me," Anya breathed as Volkov helped her to a seat.

The world was fucked.

And Sergei... had added to its fucked-up state.

Because that right there was not just a statement.

That was a warning.

That was ownership.

And they knew that there was nothing that could stand in the way of Sergei for his Katya.

The devil of Frolo had made a stand.

Katya Romanov...

Katya Gamov...

Was now Katya Moskowsky.

And to go against that would be war.

But wasn’t Sergei already in the war?

"Get the car ready. Aslava Hospital needs us if it is to stay standing," Anya sighed.

"Yes, ma’am."