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

Chapter 189: I’ll Wait By The River, In The Moonlight

[SERGEI]

The weeks that followed were quiet. Mundane.

Healthy even.

If Sergei’s midnight stalking in Katya’s penthouse was considered normal. Then again, he was alone and described it as being in the know.

Besides, it wasn’t like he didn’t go to watch Katya sleep and leave right before the omega woke up, right?

On days when Alek came over, Sergei turned off all surveillance in the penthouse. He didn’t trust himself to stay calm behind the screen as his omega got comfortable with his boyfriend.

Yet on other days, Sergei lived, loved, and laughed, Katya Romanov.

He still got lunches, only that he ate them all, even if they were from different restaurants.

But that wasn’t why he was eating them.

The paper napkins were.

They were folded the same way each time. Regardless of the restaurant from which the food came. And Sergei, he was just glad there was some permanence in his life.

Until the first day, Katya had gone to work out of the city.

It was a day’s work with other executives. Nothing out of the ordinary. Anya and Rahim had tagged along because it was a business call.

And of course, lunch hour was bound.

But the food...

Didn’t come with the paper napkins.

"Volkov, where are the napkins?" Sergei called out.

Volkov rushed into his office, a confused look on his face like he couldn’t understand what the alpha was on about.

"Sir?" Volkov asked.

"The napkins," Sergei said, his tone flat.

"The food never comes with napkins as part of the packaging. It’s always been like that since we started ordering food from them years ago. Should I get you some?" Volkov asked naively.

He really didn’t understand what the fuss was about.

But then again, this was Sergei Moskowsky. His mood was always crappy when Katya wasn’t around. So Volkov figured that that was it.

"No. I’m not hungry anymore," Sergei said.

Volkov didn’t try to reason with him.

It wouldn’t work.

It never did.

"Understood, sir," Volkov said as he walked out, only for Sergei to stop him.

"Throw this away," Sergei said, pushing the lunch pack.

Volkov stared for a moment before he followed the instructions. He should have expected this. But then it had been months, and Sergei Moskowsky had been eating fine over the months.

So, what the fuck had changed?

Then again, did Volkov even need that spelled out for him?

Romanov was not in the office.

This was not expected, yet expected at the same time. And sighing, Volkov stepped out as his boss went back to work.

Or rather...

Watching farming videos.

It was all Sergei ever did in his free time.

It was an obsession that horrified Volkov on some days, but at least there hadn’t been that many dead bodies across the city. Usually, there would be thirty or forty in a day, but lately it was in the tens.

So that was progress either way.

"Your instructions are shit. I have been following them to the letter and keep failing at the damn basil. Why the fuck does it keep dying? I’m supposed to make it healthy, so it grows, but your instructions just murdered my plant.

"I will find you; you raggedy liar," Sergei typed furiously in a comment section of the video he was watching.

He was frustrated today.

He had been trying his very best. And while he didn’t understand why the fuck he was so obsessed with farming and stupid basil pants. He had to nurture that shit because he wanted to be better.

Katya had said to think of a seedling, and Sergei had picked one. So why the hell was he suffering over a plant that didn’t even have the slightest desire to grow and be better than?

"Ah shit. He’ll know it was me," Sergei mumbled before he clicked on the edit comment button.

"Basils are beautiful plants," Sergei typed before clicking on the post button.

He didn’t care that the OP had seen his earlier comment. What he cared about was his Solnyshka seeing his comment and being happy.

But how would Katya know, right?

Well, Sergei’s username on the video site was "Solnyshka R. Moya."

Sergei kept watching the videos, leaving the nicest comments he could manage. Some frustrated him since he was alone in this huge office and his Solnyshka was out for work.

"If you call or text me again, I’ll tell him you miss him," Anya had warned twenty minutes ago when Sergei had been calling for updates.

She was just being dramatic because, honestly, Sergei didn’t think calling Anya fifty-six times in seven hours was that far a stretch. He’d only called eight times an hour, which wasn’t even a lot. Right?

"Uh... Sir?" Volkov said as he stood at the door with what looked like a package.

"What insanity is it now?" Sergei asked.

Volkov hoped to the gods that this wasn’t as bad.

"This came for you," Volkov said.

Sergei glared.

"Great, because they would deliver the security guard’s packages to my office, no?" Sergei said sarcastically, and Volkov just stepped forward and handed it over.

It was a small box that wasn’t light. It was a tad heavier than it looked, and it had Volkov a little too curious.

"Should I open it?" Volkov asked, knowing just how shitty the alpha’s mood was and the chances that this man would probably throw this heavy box at him.

"You want me to do it myself?" Sergei glared again.

Volkov took that as his chance to open the box.

"Has a note, sir," Volkov said, and Sergei sighed.

"Great, why don’t you keep giving me a commentary on how to open a box? Read the darn thing," Sergei groaned like he had lived a thousand terrible lives, and he wasn’t even seeing a way out.

"Are you sure, sir?"

"Is the box written confidential?"

"No..."

"And??"

Sighing, Volkov opened the note.

"Dear Vladimir..." Volkov began, and Sergei’s ears perked up.

"Give it and get out," he said suddenly, and Volkov couldn’t help the smile that played on his lips at his boss’s reaction.

This man was never beating the whipped-for-Katya allegations anytime soon. He was too far gone, and he didn’t even want to be saved at all. Maybe his mood would change now, right?

Volkov didn’t say a word, just bowed and stepped out after giving the package and note to Sergei.

Staring at the note, Sergei continued reading.

"Dear Vladimir, if the box came before I came back, then I’m running late. Did you eat lunch? I hope you did. We made a pact, remember? I’ll ask Volkov about it later," the note read, and Sergei paused.

What?

He was doomed.

That day after breakfast, they had both agreed to never miss any meals. It was a pact made between the two, like friends determined to walk into the future together. And each day, Sergei didn’t skip meals.

Granted, his breakfast was never with Katya or his dinner, but he had remained faithful to his promise to his Solnyshka.

Until today.

"Volkov!!" The alpha shouted like he had just realized hell was there.

"Sir??" Volkov rushed in frantically.

"Have you thrown my lunch out yet?"

"No, sir... I will when I’m done with work."

"Bring it back."

"Sir?"

"Are you deaf?"

"No, sir."

"..."

"Right away, sir," Volkov said, rushing out before coming back with the lunch he had been told to throw away.

And the alpha smiled.

All Volkov could think of was a silent prayer to the deities to keep Katya Romanov alive longer than them all.