Chapter 107: There’s An Emerald In The Sky
[KATYA]
The first thing he heard was voices.
Then cars in the distance.
And more voices.
The sound of feet on the floor had him getting up really quickly, only for Katya to realize it was morning.
A new day.
He was covered in a light grey fluffy blanket, one that smelled more of him than anything else. Hell, the potency of his citrus scent had him sneezing in his office.
Instinctively, Katya looked around him.
Nothing had changed.
The glass wall still sat between him and the other room.
Rahim had already come back to work.
Even Yaroslav was in his seat working as Volkov’s shadow thanks to his father’s decree.
Anya’s office was ajar like it always was whenever the woman was in for work.
The room beside his?
Katya could hear voices.
Not just voices.
Volkov’s. And his.
For a moment, Katya was confused. But it all faded fast when he remembered that he’d stayed here waiting for Sergei’s call for dinner. He had said that Katya didn’t have to cook, and it only made sense that he showed up.
But he hadn’t.
Katya even remembered the breakfast proposal yesterday.
Still, he hadn’t shown up for either.
And Katya had spent the night on the couch in a cold, lifeless office, waiting for someone who would never come.
Someone who didn’t even remember what he had promised.
Only that a part of Katya knew that that was a lie.
Sergei Moskowsky never forgot important things.
Or perhaps Katya was no longer important.
Even so...
Had he ever been important to the barbarian?
"Get those done and use my original scheduler. There is a new chairman, so I don’t have to be here every day. Anya knows what to do, too. Do you have any questions?" Katya heard from the other side of the glass wall.
"No, sir," Volkov said.
"Alright then. Only call me if it’s something chairman Katya and Anya can’t handle with their combined intelligence," Katya heard.
"Understood, sir."
"You can go now," Katya heard, and Volkov stepped out, files in his hand.
The man looked at Katya, who was currently sitting up on the couch in his office, but there was nothing on his face.
Not the disdain that had been the first time he had met Volkov.
Not the rage that always seemed to linger on the secretary’s face.
Not the look that always had Katya stressed out of his mind.
There was nothing.
"Good morning, Chairman Katya," Volkov greeted instead, bowing slightly before he walked away when Katya didn’t give him an answer.
But Katya was trying to process what was happening.
The missed dinner was okay.
The frosted glass was okay.
The breakfast missed was okay.
But pretending like some phases of their lives didn’t happen?
That pissed him off.
And Katya wanted to rant.
But then he was free to do whatever he wanted. Sergei had made that clear. So why was Katya bothered?
However, before Katya could even ask him a few more questions, the door on the other side opened, and through it came the man he had spent the entire night waiting for.
Sergei headed to the private elevator, his eyes sweeping the office once.
Not toward Katya.
Never toward Katya.
It was as if the alpha already knew exactly where he was and was making a conscious effort not to look.
Didn’t even acknowledge that Katya was in the office.
It was almost like the omega wasn’t there, and nothing had changed.
But something had.
Katya knew it the moment he had heard Sergei tell Volkov about the original scheduler.
Katya had seen that scheduler once.
Sergei was never in the office on any of the days, yet his empire kept running.
And now...
Fuck.
Katya had wanted freedom, so why was it eating at him?
Or maybe he had gotten used to Sergei stealing glances at him, thinking the omega wouldn’t notice?
"Shit, it’s nine?" Katya wondered when he looked at the clock on his desk.
Nine o’clock in a Moskowsky building meant that everything was functioning.
Yet Katya was still here. In clothes from yesterday. In a blanket, he didn’t even know where it had come from.
It was nine o’clock.
Katya was late.
Yet Sergei hadn’t asked him shit.
Anya, who would have definitely come at him for slacking, wasn’t even at his door, reminding him that he had signed the contract.
The secretaries were busy working.
And Katya had never been that confused.
What was happening?
Gruntled, Katya hurried up, folded the blanket, and straightened himself before he stepped toward the elevator. He needed to go and change his clothes. Clean up at least.
"Rahim."
"Sir."
"What is my schedule like today?" Katya asked, desperate to figure something out.
Something that could at least be normal.
"You have a ten o’clock with El Nueva industries, a one o’clock with the general about the military tech Knox has been developing. The rest of the day isn’t as packed, sir," Rahim said.
Instinctively, Katya looked in the direction of Anya’s office. Her door was open, but she wasn’t coming out to scold Katya or talk shit to him about how late he was.
What the hell was happening?
"What happened to the properties you sent me yesterday?" Katya asked.
"Mr. Gamov already added the market price. Should be sold within the week, sir," Rahim said, reminding Katya that Yaroslav was working on this floor with him.
But that didn’t bother him.
At least not as much as he thought it would.
Maybe because Yaroslav had a closed office right ahead of the secretaries.
"Alright. I’ll head out for an hour. Let me know when my ten o’clock is here, alright?" Katya said.
"Yes, sir."
Katya stepped into the waiting elevator, hoping to hear even the whispers of Rahim and Volkov, but he got nothing. But even when he got to the lobby.
Everyone simply greeted him, bowed, and went back to their work. None of them looked at him curiously as to why he was still in his coffee-stained suit.
It was as if nothing was happening.
Yet a lot was.
Katya could smell the change in the air. The lingering scent of normalcy and gods, he should have embraced it.
It was what he had wanted.
Sighing, Katya drove home to 13 Emerald.
There, he was met with even bigger changes.
The residence that had been swarming with a hundred and fourteen servants was almost empty. Only had essential servants, which was weird for someone who was used to seeing everyone in his space.
And out of curiosity, Katya looked around.
Sergei was not there.
His office was locked.
The room he had been sleeping in was cleaned out and replaced with the classic guest bedsheets, the reminder that the room would be unoccupied.
The same was with Anya’s room.
"Nina..."Katya spoke to the woman who was cleaning the house at the moment. She was the one familiar face he could remember among the endless servants.
"Yes, Chairman Katya," the woman said.
And Katya realized that the name was a constant.
Previously, she would call him Chairman Moskowsky.
Now it was Chairman Katya.
He had heard the same from Volkov.
"What happened? Where is everyone?" Katya asked, hoping that at least she could get him some real answers.
"Don Moskowsky and Miss Anya left for their homes. The rest of the personnel were reassigned to other stations," Nina said.
"The penthouse down the street?" Katya asked carefully. He knew that was where Sergei always lived.
It was no news for anyone.
"No, Chairman Katya. Don Moskowsky sold off that property weeks ago. I suppose he is back to lying his head anywhere across the endless homes he has within and out of the country," Nina said.
And Katya stiffened.
This was not what he had expected.
Not for the man who had been so controlling over him. The man who had made him sign the contract. Giving him only three minutes to think shit over.
Was this really freedom?
Was it another trap by the Moskowskys to see if he would do well without their close supervision?
Katya didn’t know.
So, he called his friends.
Maybe they would have different answers.
But then, after they scolded him for the weekend, their answer was the same as what was in his mind.
"From what you said and what you’re seeing, it looks like the barbarian finally learned to give you breathing space," Svet said.
"I agree. You’re free to do whatever you want now, Romanov. Even go on that date with the senator. Live life, friend," Andre added.
And Katya...
He should have been thrilled.
So why was he bothered when the call ended?
He was free, wasn’t he?
