Chapter 48 - Alexei #2
It made sense that the Kazumas would finally send someone for face-to-face talks.
They had never bothered before; messages, intermediaries, the occasional cold phone call.
Sending their actual heir was a statement.
But that heir being Kento Kurosaki made no goddamn sense.
Kento had no documented ties to the Yakuza.
Dimitri had dug through every corner of Rei and Kento’s lives.
If the Kurosaki name had even brushed against the Kazuma organization, Dimitri would have known.
He would have burned the information into the back of his skull.
Yet here the bastard was.
Kento dropped into the empty chair at the far end of the table like it had been waiting for him. He sucked slowly on the lollipop, looking bored out of his mind.
“Did I startle you?” he asked, directing a sweet, almost childish smile at Dimitri. “Let’s not waste time. I’ve been sent here for some talks. Yes?”
I glanced sideways. Dimitri’s jaw was locked. Ilya’s teeth were gritted so hard I could actually hear the faint grind of enamel. Whatever history lived between those two, it was toxic enough to poison the whole room.
The negotiations began properly after that.
One of the senior men cleared his throat and slid a thin folder across the polished wood.
“The East Coast shipping routes remain open under the current terms. We propose a minor adjustment to the percentage on the southern docks, three points higher in your favor.”
Kento twirled the lollipop stick between two fingers, eyes half-lidded.
“Acceptable. But I want exclusive priority on the new container line coming in from Osaka next quarter.”
A Petrova woman inclined her head.
“Granted. We will also maintain the current weapons pipeline through the private airfield.”
Kento gave a small, lazy nod. “Good. And the money-laundering arrangement through the casino chain stays exactly as written. I don’t like surprises in the books.”
Several men around the table murmured agreement. Papers were adjusted. Numbers were confirmed. Then Kento pulled the lollipop from his mouth with a pop and pointed the sticky end in my direction.
“I also heard about the massacre,” he said lightly, as if commenting on the weather. “One hundred and forty-seven in a single night. Very thorough. I liked your work. Do it again sometime, yes?”
The room went still.
I arched one eyebrow, caught off guard by the casual praise.
The other men scrambled to rearrange their faces. “Ah… y-yes,” the man who previously wanted me dead stammered. “He’s… really quite… talented. Efficient.”
“A unique approach,” another added quickly.
Kento smiled around the lollipop again, eyes gleaming with amusement, as if watching powerful men trip over themselves to agree with him was the best entertainment he’d had all week.
I leaned back in my chair, watching him carefully.
He was doing this on purpose.
The heir of the organization everyone in this room feared had just publicly praised the massacre.
In one lazy sentence he had ripped the target off my back and pinned a strange, unwanted shield in its place.
The old men who had been hoping for my removal now had to swallow their tongues.
If the Kazuma heir approved, none of them could afford to move against me.
But why?
Had Rei asked him to intervene? I doubted it. Rei barely spoke to his brother. And Kento’s own family ties to the underworld had been invisible until today. Whatever this was, it ran deeper than a simple favor for a sibling’s boyfriend.
The negotiations continued for another twenty minutes. Kento barely seemed interested. He answered in short, bored sentences, the lollipop clicking against his teeth every so often. When the final point was settled, the entire table rose as one.
And then they bowed.
Grown men who ordered executions without blinking bent at the waist like he was some kind of emperor. The sight was almost surreal. One by one they filed out, leaving the doors to swing shut behind them.
The moment the last one disappeared, Dimitri’s hand slammed down onto the table hard enough to make the remaining glasses rattle. He rose to his full height, eyes burning.
“What the hell?! Explain yourself.”
Kento rolled the wet lollipop slowly from one side of his mouth to the other, the bright red candy glistening under the lights. He stood with the same unhurried grace he had entered with, leather jacket creaking softly.
“And who are you that I have to explain myself?” His voice stayed light, playful. Then the temperature in the room dropped. “I suggest you watch your tone, Morozov. You may be my brother’s boyfriend, but I can and will bury you if I feel like it.”
The change was instantaneous. One second the sweet, manic smile; the next, eyes like frozen glass. Whiplash. I had seen men like him before - people who wore charm like a coat and kept the real blade underneath.
I rose slowly from my chair, keeping my movements deliberate.
“Why did you help me?”
Kento’s gaze slid to mine. The cold melted back into that same bright, unsettling smile. He didn’t answer me directly. Instead his eyes moved past my shoulder and locked onto Ilya.
Ilya was still rigid, face pale, jaw locked so tight the muscle jumped.
Kento walked around the table until he stood directly in front of him. He tilted his head.
“Consider it a favour,” he said softly. “We are even now my prince.”
Before anyone could react, he pulled the saliva-slick lollipop from his own mouth, then he grabbed Ilya’s jaw, forced his mouth open, and shoved the lollipop deep past his lips - pushing it far enough that the sticky ball pressed against the back of his tongue and made him gag hard.
Ilya choked, a wet sound tearing from his throat as the sugary saliva mixed with his own. His eyes watered instantly. Kento held it there for a second longer than necessary, watching the way Ilya’s throat convulsed around the intrusion, before finally letting go.
Dimitri moved like a loaded spring.
He yanked Ilya backward so hard the chair nearly toppled, placing his body between them.
“Don’t fucking touch him.”
Kento’s smile didn’t fade. He looked at Dimitri the way a cat looks at something small and entertaining.
“I’ll touch him when I wish.”
Dimitri’s entire frame tensed, ready to lash out.
I saw the exact second he decided violence was acceptable.
But Ilya recovered first. He ripped the dripping lollipop out of his mouth, strings of spit still connecting it to his lips, and threw it aside like it burned.
Then he grabbed Dimitri’s wrist with both hands, pulling him back.
“Stop… just… get the fuck away from me.”
The words were aimed at Kento, shaking with something that wasn’t only anger. Ilya’s glare could have cut glass.
Kento only smiled wider, bright and poisonous. “You’re welcome.”
Then he turned on his heel, leather jacket swinging. “Oh and don’t tell my brother anything about this or I will have your head Morozov,” he walked out of the room without looking back.
Well… that was one thing behind me, I guess.
I looked at Ilya.
He still looked distressed. Dimitri stood beside him like a loaded weapon, jaw clenched. “Are you going to tell Rei?” I asked.
Dimitri’s head snapped toward me. “The fuck I am!!”
I sighed, dragging a hand down my face. This was going to be messy. Very messy. Rei would eventually find out - secrets like this never stayed buried in our circle - but for now Dimitri’s refusal was a wall I wasn’t going to climb. Not today.
I shook my head. “I have to go.”
My gaze shifted to Ilya again.
“Are you alright?”
He nodded once, too quickly. “I’m fine.”
I looked at Dimitri. Something wordless passed between us. He would handle Ilya.
Right now I just wanted to go home and wrap my arms around my little star.
And maybe finally come clean about the one thing I have been hiding from him.
Marco spent most of his days at my place now. He still slept at home once or twice a week when he needed space or when his parents called, but the rest of the time he was mine - curled up on my couch, stealing my hoodies, existing in my space like he had always belonged there.
I needed that. I needed him.
I just hoped he still needed me after he knows what I have done.