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

Chapter 176: From A Distance, The Ocean Meets The Stream

[FROLO]

Sergei’s face crinkled with unattended rage.

Senator Aleksandr.

Perfect Aleksandr.

The stupid senator who won in life.

Now he was here in his office with Anya.

"You think I won’t kill him?" Sergi asked as he pulled his gun and set it on the table right as the senator walked in.

His aide was waiting outside.

Anya wasn’t even surprised at Sergei’s gesture, but the senator was careful.

Sergei noticed how Aleksandr was eyeing the gun on the table and the way Sergei looked pissed, like he was so ready to take someone into hell with him.

Anya didn’t answer Sergei.

"Mr. Moskowsky," Senator Aleksandr greeted.

Sergei stared at him, not returning the greeting. Instead, he just glared at the man like he had way better things to do than be in the same room with this man.

"Go on," Anya urged calmly, like this was their normal, and there wasn’t a gun that could go off any moment, because the alpha had been unstable for over four weeks now.

The senator looked at her, then at Sergei, who was still drilling holes into Alek with his eyes. He looked like he was really contemplating doing it with every passing second.

"I didn’t realize my office was public property, senator," Sergei said, not even changing the look on his face.

If anything, he was playing with his gun.

His loaded gun was pointing at Alek’s chest.

Maybe if he shot the man in the heart just once, he would feel what Sergei was feeling right now, no?

Sergei stared at the man’s face, his features trying to figure out what it was about this man that had his Solnyshka so smitten.

Honestly, he couldn’t see anything special about the senator.

Granted, the man was handsome and had a square jaw with features normal people would consider good-looking, but he didn’t have the money Sergei had. He didn’t have the resources or even the time that Sergei had dedicated to Katya.

Sure, it was not a competition, but then this man was not even a match for him, yet he got to kiss his Solnyshka.

Sergei was pissed.

So, he cocked his gun and boredly aimed it again at the Senator, squinting his eyes, and he was imagining what the man would look like sprawled out bleeding on his white carpet.

Maybe he would finally be worthy?

Or maybe he would be where he belonged.

"Mr. Moskowsky—" Senator Aleksandr began, but Sergei interrupted him.

"Sixteen rounds to finish the job. Five men to clear the scene, seven to eliminate all evidence, three from tech to erase all evidence... If you come here or even be seen within these walls and the surroundings," Sergei said flatly.

He was looking at the senator like this man was still breathing, and he needed him long dead.

"What?" Alek asked.

He knew Sergei was unstable and was always trigger-happy. So, his confusion wasn’t even on what Sergei was doing or could do, but the why.

This man hated everyone, sure, but had the senator wronged him, or was this the day Sergei decided he needed to have another victim?

"He’s here about the children," Anya said, screaming as she looked at the senator apologetically.

"So, he can’t even speak for his intentions. You have to speak for him?" Sergei asked as he began to attach the silencer to his gun.

But the nozzle got stuck on the lunch paper bag, making Sergei pull it roughly.

When it didn’t budge, the alpha ripped the bag open to reveal a lunch box he was certainly not expecting.

"I came to invite you to the gala on Friday. It’s an auction to raise money for underprivileged children," Alek said, but the alpha’s focus was elsewhere.

Sergei stared at the box, hard.

He couldn’t believe it.

Maybe he was wrong.

So, he turned his attention to the senator instead.

"Do I look like I’m saving children? Or are you going to pretend your city workers don’t clean shredded body parts on your streets courtesy of me?" Sergei asked flatly.

Then he looked at Anya.

She was looking at the lunch pack.

Like it was familiar.

Maybe because it was.

And Sergei...

He followed the recognition in her eyes.

And froze for a moment, like a man who couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

He looked at Anya again, his eyes holding hers in the kind of way that asked if she was seeing what he was seeing.

It was honestly the first time they had communicated for weeks, even if it wasn’t with words.

But damn.

"You’ve been making donations to the children’s fund for over thirty years, Mr. Moskowsky..." the senator said, and Sergei just rolled his eyes at the senator.

"Well, excuse me for not using my money to buy drugs and fill them on your streets," Sergei retorted.

Anya sighed.

"Allow me to throw that for you, Mr. Moskowsky," Anya said, getting up.

Alek didn’t see anything wrong with it because Sergei had been glaring at that pack for a while now.

"It’s my lunch," Sergei said defensively.

Anya paused.

Outside the office, Volkov tripped on air, fell butt-first on the floor, his leg pushing the door open, and having him inside the madman’s office.

"Are you okay, Mr. Volkov?" Senator Aleksandr asked worriedly, getting up to help Volkov.

Meanwhile, Sergei was already unpacking the food, the disposable chopsticks in his hand.

Then he saw something else.

The paper napkins.

The way they were folded...

For the first time in weeks, something managed to interrupt the image in his head.

No, it was impossible.

Surely, Sergei was wrong, no?

Shaking his head, Sergei focused on the food. Maybe because he couldn’t think straight right now. He was already running low on everything, and his body was begging him to do something.

Well, he was eating, now, wasn’t he?

Yet those paper napkins held his attention in the kind of way that had him thinking about something so dangerous.

Something far more dangerous than the cocked gun he had forgotten on his table while he fiddled with his lunch.

Volkov, on the other hand, was staring at his boss like he was seeing an alien walk the city of Frolo. Surely there had been an apocalypse he missed, no?

Anya, on the other hand, checked the name on the packaging like she wanted to be sure she was seeing this for real.

It just made no sense, yet when she saw what it was, she had a feeling that the memory of what had once been was far stronger than Sergei’s desire to trash the lunch.

That was progress, right?

After all, the only thing that mattered right this instant was that Sergei...

Sergei was eating.

Sergei was eating.

Sergei was eating.

Sergei was eating.

"I’m a fine senator, thank you. I was going to throw the pack away, but it looks like I don’t have to anymore," Volkov said carefully before he began heading out.

But now, without turning to look at the man who hadn’t eaten shit in weeks eat like he had his first taste of heaven.

Oh, but Volkov made a mental note to be extra nice to Katya Romanov for this.

The man was a blind bat, but at least he was the blind bat that had proven to be useful.

"Senator..." Anya began softly, knowing that the plan had long backfired.

"Can Chairman Romanov come?" the senator asked, and Sergei choked on nothing.

"I’m too old for this shit," Anya mumbled as she glared at Sergei, who was back to eating his food like he hadn’t just scared the living hells out of the woman.

"As your partner? Should you be asking him that?" Sergei asked, not even slowing down on the lunch that had nearly killed him moments ago.

"As a Moskowsky representative. The Moskowsky group has been at the forefront of humanitarian aid for years. I was thinking that if you were busy, the chairman would represent your company.

"I’m not asking as his partner. I’m requesting the Moskowsky chairman’s time," Alek said, ready to give his entire presentation and convince Sergei to allow Katya to come to the gala.

"Approved. Now leave me for lunch. Plan the logistics with Anya. She will let me know what the final decision is. Shut the door on your way out," Sergei said, not even bothering to look up from his lunch.

Anya stared in surprise for a long minute after the senator stepped out first. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing, and frankly, a part of her didn’t understand what this was.

But one thing was certain.

Whoever had gambled with that particular restaurant deserved a raise for preventing a daylight assassination within Moskowsky Holdings.

Would it last, though?