[SERGEI]
They wouldn’t stop.
He knew that now.
Five years of finally being around Katya without guilt and fear of what his son would think of him. Without fear of what life would be like if he lost again.
And they still didn’t think they were playing a losing game.
He’d never claimed to be the bastion of temperance, not after the things he’d done in the past seven weeks.
He was a wreck sometimes, damaged mostly, doomed on a regular day.
But he had Katya now.
And Sergei...
He wanted the peace that Katya came with.
The calm mornings where all he had to worry about was what he’d make his Solnyshka for breakfast.
The soft lunches when he’d eat alone sometimes as he counted down the hours before he picked up his Solnyshka from work. The long hours in traffic while driving to get Katya.
The even longer hours in traffic while driving home with Katya.
He looked forward to the longer hours.
Because he’d spend more time with Katya in ordinary Frolo.
Because on some occasions Katya would make him stop and they’d eat street food, enjoy the calm and normal side of the city that had given Sergei nothing but pain for so long.
Sergei wasn’t a saint.
He wouldn’t even try to become one.
He didn’t know how to, if ever, the crazy idea popped into his head.
But one thing he was sure he needed was peace.
Yet peace for a man like him was a lost dream. Not when he had people haunting him from all sides.
Not when the past, the present, and even the future were tainted by the fears of what he was, the horrors of what he had become, and the poison of what he would always be.
The devil of Frolo.
Still...
He was just a man who wanted to spend the rest of his life with his Solnyshka. Didn’t matter if they were married or stayed boyfriends till eternity.
And standing at the entrance of Moskowsky Holdings, a building he’d sworn to only return to when necessary, Sergei knew he had to make the decision.
A lifetime of attacks from the front, back, and sides.
Or a lifetime of peace with Katya Romanov.
It wasn’t hard to know which one he’d choose, because standing there at his own company doors, Sergei Moskowsky...
...was in combat wear.
He’d finish the war once and for all.
He’d make sure things were steady once and for all.
And once he was done.
He’d go home.
To his Solnyshka.
His boyfriend.
His beloved.
The man worth choosing peace for.
"Get me the speaker connected to the intercom," he said to the guards on the ground floor, as his employees rushed to straighten up, to look decent and proper.
But what was proper in a palace that was about to fight a war?
Where suits would no longer be a need, but blades and gun belts were a need?
Where mornings would never matter anymore because operations would stop for a season?
Where evenings and nights would be spent talking while smiling over dead bodies instead of regular dining tables?
Perhaps there would be a better season after they finished this, but would it change as much when Sergei still had an alarm set for four forty-five in the evening, when he would go pick his boyfriend up from work?
"Sir..." the guard from before spoke, handing the alpha the speaker.
"Thank you," Sergei said in earnest.
Then he began.
"Good morning, Moskowsky betas," Sergei began, and everyone stiffened at the title.
Because they knew what that meant.
What that would always mean.
"The past three months have been quite interesting for this company and even the city. I have tried to keep the battles as distant from the larger group as I could;
"...but we all knew it was never going to be enough," Sergei said, his voice devoid of any emotion. He sounded like some automated machine when in truth he was just...
...There.
"Expectedly, there is the choice to drag this out and see what will happen. Or face it off once and for all. I have chosen the latter, and you know what that means.
"All essential personnel will report to Knox and continue their work there. The first thirty floors of this building will be repurposed according to the training manual you all went through.
"If you have had a change of mind over the years, take out your gun and blow your brains out before I do it for you.
"Because I won’t give you the mercy of death if you betray me," Sergei said calmly, his voice steady even if devoid of emotion.
People died whenever Sergei came back.
He knew that.
These betas knew that.
But it was one they all were prepared for from the moment they graduated from The Farm and The Psych Ward and transitioned to work under the guise of regular Moskowsky employees.
"Your segment leaders will debrief you on what is next. Most of you will die in this war. But make sure your death is worth something, or you will have been the greatest failure of my life.
"And I despise failures," Sergei said, looking around at the ground floor. He knew the other floors were listening too. It was hard not to when he’d tapped into the sound systems.
"Everyone in this building has twenty-four hours to say goodbye to the normal they’ve had for years. Because after twenty-four hours, all operations begin.
"And if you’re not prepared, you will wish you were dead. Have a good day and see y’all in twenty-four hours," Sergei said, handing the speakerphone to the guard.
Then he left.
Didn’t go to his penthouse.
Didn’t go to the executive floor to say hello to Anya.
Didn’t even try to visit the research floor and linger like he’d always done whenever he came.
But everything was in motion the moment he drove off. He didn’t need to ask to know, even as he tuned in to Katya’s favorite radio station and drove to Katya’s favorite restaurant to pick his favorite dessert.
His Solnyshka would definitely love the cakes.
Sergei then detoured to the flower shop and bought a bouquet of lilies.
Unlike the usual huge bouquets, today he’d bought a medium-sized one. One that didn’t bring too much attention to him and one that screamed normalcy for Katya.
Because that was what Sergei was going for.
Normalcy.
For his mate.
For the most beautiful boy in his life.
Twenty-four hours.
Sergei had twenty-four hours to enjoy whatever serenity was left of the mundane life in Frolo.
The life that he’d barely experienced with Katya.
The one he’d lived in freely for five years.
The side of the city that was fairly normal and didn’t have him standing between bullets and people all the time.
He’d loved it, really.
The kind of normal Katya had taught him.
But Sergei knew he’d never belong in that kind of normal no matter what he did.
Which was why he was determined to make sure Katya didn’t lose that sense of normal.
And so the alpha drove around the city, like a man saying goodbye to the life he’d loved with Katya, one he’d miss out on for a while.
But he’d be back for it, or so he hoped.
Because when this final war was over...
He’d go home.
To his Solnyshka.
And when his phone rang, and he saw Anya’s name, he just smiled as he picked up.
"Sergio... all operations... Are... a go?"
"Yes. I’m going to kill every last one of them."