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

[SERGEI]

Sergei hadn’t expected the hold, but he wasn’t about to let that alpha stay that close to his omega. He would slap the bastard’s head off if that was what it took.

"Let. Me. Go," Sergei seethed, his voice cold as Anya dragged him back to the alley where Volkov had parked the car.

There was no one there.

"Fine," Anya said, before she smacked his head like she was so done with his tantrums. To be fair, it was barely even half past nine in the morning. Too early to deal with whatever madness Sergei Moskowsky had planned for the day.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Anya asked, her hold on her walking stick tighter, like she was warning Sergei that no place was too bad for a smack.

"You saw what he was doing. He was so close. Breathing the same air, looking at my omega like he is not taken. He should know to keep his distance. And I am going back to tell him," Sergei insisted, before he began walking away.

But Anya pulled his left leg with her walking stick, making the alpha let out a warning growl.

Volkov, who had still been in the car, instinctively reversed a few meters further away from the two psychos. He had been through this with these two enough times to know that he was always going to end up as collateral damage.

Either from Anya’s sandals or from Sergei’s rage.

It was easier to stay away this time.

"What. The fuck. Are you doing?!" Sergei bellowed lowly.

Anya just stared at him as if waiting for him to be done with his tantrums on an early Friday morning so they could get back to real business.

"Are you done, or should I call Katya to help you calm down?" Anya asked calmly.

At the mention of Katya, Sergei stiffened.

Anya smiled, knowing that name had prevented endless disasters just like it had triggered them.

There was no reasoning with Sergei whenever it came to Katya, and frankly, Anya was starting to wonder if the alpha even had a functioning brain cell anymore.

Because the only one he had left had been used up.

Or maybe he needed to recharge.

"You wouldn’t dare," Sergei growled.

"Here we go again. Fine, let’s see how he reacts when he sees me calling, alright?" Anya said as she stepped out of the alley just enough to have a clear view of the café that Katya and Rahim were in.

"Come along, child, since you want to ruin everyone’s morning, might as well see what you were aiming for, alright?" Anya said as she extended her stick and used it to pull a huffing, pissed Sergei from the alley like the man was just a nuisance.

Maybe he was.

Today, right?

Sergei didn’t even contest it.

He just let the stick direct him while Volkov was dying of laughter in the distance.

"If I hear a growl when he picks up, I will kill you myself and save the city," Anya said as she set the phone on speaker mode.

Their focus? The café.

Strangely enough, Sergei had remained silent.

The phone rang once. Twice. And on the third ring, Katya excused himself and stepped outside the face to respond.

Which was just about perfect for Anya’s little experiment.

They watched as Katya wiped his hands on his coat, the terror obvious on his face.

They watched as he breathed in and out, like a man who was genuinely getting ready for execution. And they watched as he looked around, desperately, as if he was waiting to be saved.

Then he picked up the call.

He didn’t talk.

He never talked first on the phone when Anya called.

"Where the hell are you, Moskowsky?" Anya asked, and Katya stiffened, pulling a handkerchief from his coat and wiping his forehead with it.

Anyone who didn’t understand what was going on could simply assume that the morning sun had been a bit harsh on the omega. But these two knew what was happening.

"I... I’m sorry," Katya’s shaky voice was heard.

Sergei paled.

Staggered a few steps back at the raw fear in the omega’s voice.

He didn’t sound like the man who chaired the meeting a few minutes ago. He sounded like a captive who had been found lacking and had everything lost with this one call.

"First day back on the job and you’re not in your seat? Do you think just because you signed a contract marriage with Sergei gives you the right to step out as you wish?" Anya asked flatly.

Her tone still cold, still detached, still coldly professional, like she was not about to mess up her shares in the company because of one omega who couldn’t handle time.

"You didn’t answer my first question, Moskowsky," Anya remembered, and Katya looked paler than he had been before.

"I... I was hungry... I’m sorry, I’ll head back. Please... my mama... I’ll... I’m sorry, I won’t try it again—" Anya hung up.

And they both watched the aftermath.

How Katya leaned against the wall, frozen, like he was not sure what to do.

How he clutched his chest and struggled with breathing exercises. They watched how Katya knocked his elbow, hard, against the concrete wall like he was trying to keep steady.

Sergei wanted to rush to the omega to check on him and see if he had gotten hurt.

Who was he kidding? Of course, he had gotten hurt. That elbow strike was not an easy one. It was the same one Anya had seen in the elevator; she knew he did it to hold himself together.

"You see what your very existence does to him? Watch, Sergei," Anya insisted, not letting Sergei rush over.

So, he watched.

They... watched.

As Katya straightened up and staggered towards the door, only to turn back to where he was when he had taken the call.

And with their super-hearing, they listened as Katay dialed Rahim, who was just a few feet away.

Right inside the café.

A place where Katya could simply make seven steps and reach her, seeing as Rahim was at the counter taking her orders.

"Rahim, are you done?" Katya asked, his voice steady, but Anya and Sergei knew that was not what a steady voice was like.

Apparently, Rahim thought the same, too.

Because instead of talking about their orders...

"Sir, are you okay?"

"We need to leave already, can’t waste too much time here," Katya said instead.

"Oh, yeah, sure. The orders are done... where are you?" Rahim asked.

"Waiting by the car," Katya lied smoothly before hanging up.

Sergei watched as his omega struggled to find his way to where the car had been parked, almost falling on a few times and getting the attention of bystanders who didn’t even look at him twice.

He watched as Katya tried to get a hold of himself, as he tried to keep steady.

But what use was steady when he was in a Moskowsky world?

"Are you happy now?" Anya asked, turning to Sergei, who leaned against the wall, sorrow written on his face like the open book he had always been with Anya. He looked like someone had ruined his life in seconds.

But whose fault was it this time?

"Anya..."

"He had a panic attack from my call. I wasn’t even close. He didn’t know. What do you think was going to happen if you stormed in and growled at the alphas who were simply making conversation with him?" Anya asked.

Before Sergei could form a response, Anya’s phone lit up.

Svet was calling.