Chapter 413: The Blades That Stayed A Little Too Blunt

[FROLO]

Aleksandr looked at the brief the government had sent him, and for the first time in a really long while, even longer than he’d been hoping to see Joe again, Alek was not sure what to do.

He’d been having strategies. He had them even now, strategies that were supposed to make the move. They were supposed to make life a little lighter for the city.

Yet now he and his second in command stared into silence. Into the emptiness of the room like they were trying to wrap their heads around the fact that maybe they were fighting a losing battle.

That this was the kind of shit they should never have gotten involved in in the first place.

The only problem right now?

They had made a commitment.

To the government.

To the city of Frolo.

To the realm.

Alek usually had no regrets for whatever decision he made, but seeing that woman stand beside Rastenkin had his heart hammering in his chest for the rest of the day.

It was even worse than watching Rastenkin admit in public that he was the Shopkeeper, that too while standing inside the Moskowsky building.

The legend had returned to life.

The man had confirmed the city’s suspicions.

The ghost Alek had never been able to face while sober had returned too. But he had returned with someone who wasn’t supposed to be alive. A ghost who was never supposed to exist. Much less in the current timeline.

And that made everything even more complicated because Alek didn’t know.

He didn’t understand the possibility of everything else.

What the hell was he going to do now that he’d committed to hunting Sergei ever so publicly? Did he even have leverage, or was Aleksandr just going to do his work as a government official now that the governor was dead because of his choices too?

Oh, but there was no telling what was what right now.

Because Aleksandr felt himself suffocate.

This wasn’t how to live, but the Moskowskys weren’t going to back down anymore. They were choosing peace for formalities, but the Shopkeeper wasn’t the kind of warrior deployed to keep the peace.

"The president called, Alek," Kenzo said into the silence, but Aleksandr was not thinking about the president.

Not anymore anyway.

"She died. We saw her body. We held funerals for her. Twice. Yet the way she was standing there was too similar. Even her chin tattoo was the same...

"I mean, if the Moskowskys are that good at forgery, then they had to have one to get a copy from, yet it doesn’t feel like it did with the Joe we saw. She is real.

"I’m not sure how... but she is alive, Kenzo," Alek said, like that was supposed to make things a little easier. Like acceptance was a stage he was at in the grief of his past.

But then acceptance wasn’t even close, given the fact that he had chosen revenge despite knowing he’d burn if he went after the Moskowskys.

It was dangerous to hope. Alek knew it so well. But the woman there was not a copy. Was not modified or whatever the hell the Moskowskys did. She looked real.

Easily disturbed like the last time.

Easily pissed too.

And Alek remembered it all like the sound of his heart swelling only to shatter in the last minute.

"They are playing games with us. Like they did with fake Joe," Kenzo tried, even though he knew that was far from the truth they were being presented with.

But hope was something that not many had the luxury of experiencing when the Moskowskys lived. It wasn’t even a game anymore. They really didn’t know what was right and what was wrong.

"What do I tell the president?" Kenzo asked, still holding the phone in his hands.

He knew what this was.

What it looked like, and while there was a very high chance that what they had seen was real, there was also the chance that this was just another bout of psychological warfare. Especially with the fact that the Shopkeeper had presented himself before the public.

It was not easy.

But it was the warning everyone should have learned to heed.

"Give me the phone," Aleks said, trying to compose himself.

He had been played before, which was why this shouldn’t have affected him as much, but even he couldn’t deny that the scars and the tattoos he had seen on Mrs. Smirnova spoke of what had once been for them.

Perhaps it was a game.

But then they had pissed the Moskowskys when they attacked Katya.

Were they still to remain confident that this was a game?

"President Boris. To what do I owe the pleasure?" Alek said, as if he was not already shaking at the possibility of what he’d seen being a reality.

"Sergei has the Shopkeeper," the president said, voice shaking like this was really the first time the man was realizing that the man they’d even had emergency alerts for in the city was on Sergei Moskowsky’s side.

It was unnerving for him, which was understandable. But Aleksandr just sighed like this wasn’t what he was hoping to hear from the president of their nation.

Maybe a little less dramatics?

Maybe the kind of shit that didn’t involve any more fear associated with the devil of Frolo, perhaps. But Sergei was Sergei, and he’d earned the fear from everyone.

"Yes. He’s always had him for the longest time. The Myrtles too. They work with Sergei, along with the Romanov friends and Irina, Sergei’s best friend," Alek said flatly, and he heard the man’s shaky breathing on the other end of the phone.

"You knew?"

"I am the Kumarin Bratva leader, President Boris. If I don’t know who I’m fighting, what the hell is my job here then?" Alek scoffed like it was okay.

He knew nothing was ever going to be the same in Frolo after the shooting yesterday. He was painstakingly aware of it, and regardless of what he tried to think of, there wasn’t a plausible solution for it all. And that haunted the fuck out of him.

Because the war was not even just beginning.

The war had begun, and the battles were accelerating at a speed that Aleksandr Petrov had not thought possible yet.

He’d thought he had more time.

More power.

But even the hand that he thought he’d dealt was slowly fading, especially with the fucking Shopkeeper being Rastenkin.

Gods, he was fucked.

"Can you handle him too?" President Boris asked, and this time, Alek sighed.

Not because he didn’t trust himself or even because the target had gotten considerably bigger for him. But because if he put his ego aside and looked at things from a strategic point, he knew he would never win.

That he would never be able to beat the man who had the Shopkeeper under his employ. There were dreams and delusions, and Alek knew better than to be delusional.

But just like the first day he’d set out for revenge, he knew he wouldn’t make it out alive anyway. So he would drag the Moskowskys down with him. Even if it was the last thing he did before Sergei or his Shopkeeper came after him.

There was no time to overthink.

"Yes. He is just a puppet for Sergei. Once we have Sergei cornered, everything around him will collapse," Alek said, trying to be confident.

He needed the president to trust him for some reason. Maybe because he was hoping to utilize the army or whatever was left of it.

Or maybe because he was naked and he needed to feel safe.

But was the realm ever going to be a safe place for him when Sergei and Rastenkin still lived?

"Alright. I trust you. Whatever resources you need. Even if it is more than Governor Morozov already gave you, just ask. We are dedicating all the resources available to deal with Sergei Moskowsky once and for all.

"We can’t have one man constantly terrorizing Frolo," President Boris said, and Alek held back a snicker at that.

Deal with Sergei.

What a joke he’d pulled himself into.

"I have to get going now, President Boris. I’ll reach out if there is anything. We need to minimize communications so it doesn’t feel like we are actively sabotaging that barbarian.

"Good day," Alek said before hanging up, not even giving the man a chance to respond.

Turning to Kenzo...

"Find whatever there is on Mrs. Smirnova. We need to be ready," Alek said before pulling a drawer open and staring at its contents.

The same contents he’d pulled out of that pillow in the hospital when fake Joe died.