[fic]Retribution Twelve
I am so sorry for this long hiatus. My life is so busy I have had no time to breathe. But the next chapter has already been written and is being beta-ed, so that is definitely coming soon! If anyone is still reading, that is *cries*
Title: Retribution Twelve
Rating: PG-13
Warning: None
Characters: Mikhail, Asami, Aki, Kirishima, Yoh, Tao, Yan, Toh, Alexei(I WISH!!)
Spoiler: Spoiler for NT arc
Disclaimer: All characters belong to YA sensei.
Beta: angel0399
Previous Chapters: For new readers, 'Retribution' is the third arc of a Mik x Fei trilogy that I've suffered my readers with since 2007. In order to make sense of it I'm afraid you will need to read 'Cruel Intentions' and its sequel 'Revelation' before you begin 'Retribution.' All the links are organized on the side bar of my lj kajornwan along with the trilogy's one-shot fillers. Russian, Chinese, Polish, Spanish (COMPLETED! OMG!), German, and French (thank you everyone!) translations by readers are also found here. To make life even easier, a dear reader gryffin-draco has gone through the trouble of putting these in PDF files for download. Cruel Intentions and Revelation. Thank you so much sweetie.
Akihito looked quietly at his watch for perhaps the twentieth time that afternoon. One more hour to go, he thought and sighed heavily. The flight to Hong Kong was to last approximately four hours, but the past three hours, to him, felt like three days. Asami was just sitting there quietly by himself reading reports and answering emails as usual. Had he not known the man better, he would have felt angry with Asami for appearing so unaffected about the situation. But Akihito did know the man, and the mere fact that he had chosen a seat two rows away told him something wasn't right. Asami was not an affectionate man, nor does he talk a lot. As a couple - if he had the right to describe their relationship with such word at all - they don't cuddle, hold hands, or embrace each other unless during sex. Not to mention that Asami tends to avoid intimate conversations with more efforts than he does bullets. But no matter how cold and distant their relationship may be out of bed, the older man had always, without fail, positioned himself nearby whenever they were together. Everyone knows Asami Ryuichi does not watch TV other than for news, but one would find him on the sofa just the same when Akihito watches the series or game shows, just reading his reports or the newspaper. When he cooks, Asami would be in the kitchen. When he sleeps, he would always wake up to find the older man doing something in the bedroom long after he has awakened. That was the level of their unspoken intimacy that kept Akihito from running too far away. The only few times when Asami kept himself distant was when something truly affected him emotionally. That was how he knew something was wrong.
Akihito found himself sighing once more. He must have done it a hundred times in the past three hours. The more he looked at Asami, the more suffocated he felt. Every once in a while the man would look up from his report, stare into the empty space in front of him for a minute or two as though an unwelcome thought had disturbed him, and inhale a lung full of air he had neglected to breathe when he decided to drive the thought away. It made him wonder what went on in the older man’s mind. Was he planning a strategy? Was he thinking about the past? Or was it the thought of Fei Long that caused the periodically tightening of his jaws? Despite his expression that never changed, Akihito could tell the event was affecting him enough to throw a man like Asami off balance. And from the thin veil of stress on Kirishima’s face, he knew he was not wrong.
It was during times like these, that Akihito was reminded of the true distance between them. Asami does not and will not confide in him no matter what he has to go through. There was a wall around him that was off-limits and unbreakable, and at the end of the day, Akihito was just one of those people on the other side of that wall, like everyone else. He maybe the closest one to Asami physically, but emotionally, no one was allowed to get that close - except maybe Fei Long.
Every time Fei Long entered his life Asami would be like this. It was as if the Chinese man had made a crack in Asami's otherwise indestructible defense system and saw something he was not supposed to. Just as Fei Long had never moved on from whatever incident that happened eight years ago, Asami, too, had never managed to erase completely whatever mark that past left in his heart. He was close enough to notice the twitching of Asami's brows every time Fei Long was mentioned, even though it appeared only for a split second. He was close enough to hear the difference in Asami's breathing pattern every time Fei Long appeared before him. He doesn’t have to know the whole story to see that in Fei Long's hand lies a part of Asami Ryuichi that was indeed vulnerable - something Akihito was not allowed to touch or have a glimpse of. And perhaps that was why Asami had always tried to avoid being involved with the Chinese man. Fei Long brings out a part of Asami no one else gets to see - the part he can't control. It was this fact about them that had been a pain in his heart for months, and it was one of the reasons he’d wanted to get involved in this situation. Fei Long was someone he cared about enough to risk a lot to save, but he also needed to know the content of Asami's heart. If he didn't do this, Asami would never allow himself to be directly involved with Fei Long again, and he will never have a chance to know. The problem was, can he stomach the truth when it hits him in the face?
If all this wasn't enough to make him want to throw up his lunch, the other two guests on the plane would soon make it happen. Tao, now sleeping on his lap, had been sobbing periodically for hours since he’d found out what happened to Fei Long. Yoh, who had refused to eat since he woke up this morning, had barely spoken a word to the boy except for a short, merciless explanation of, "Fei Long has been kidnapped. We need to move you to a secure place." After that he has retreated into a world of his own. Not a word of comfort to the boy was spoken no matter how hard he cried, not one answer was given to a single question the boy asked. For three hours he stared outside the window, his right hand clenched so tight around the armrest that would leave scars on the leather. His eyes were burning with so much anger that Akihito wasn’t sure if it was meant for his enemies or for himself. The wounds on his knuckles seemed self-inflicted, and for some reason he had a feeling they would not be the last. He had never seen Yoh that way. Even Asami had stopped asking him questions after a few times when he’d refused to answer.
When the plane landed, Asami’s men were waiting for them with a limousine. Akihito took a deep breath in hope that the knot in his stomach would go away. He was back in Hong Kong - a place full of memories he wished he had forgotten. It was the last place on Earth he wanted to be and suddenly he found his feet too heavy to move at the thought. He felt a light touch on the back of his shoulder and looked up. Asami was standing next to him, reassuring him with a subtle gesture that was almost a natural reflex, his eyes focused cautiously on the car and his surroundings. That was the man’s way of saying, “There’s nothing to worry about.” Despite his cold and heartless façade, Asami Ryuichi notices more than he appears, and in his own ways, was warmer than he leads one to believe. Knowing this, he took comfort in that brief, casual contact and forced his legs to move. If Asami Ryuichi tells you there’s nothing to worry about, you believe him.
He removed his hand as his cellphone rang. Akihito saw the slight knot of his brows as he looked at the caller ID. He switched his focus to Yoh in the way that made everyone froze and held their breaths, and then answered the call.
“Asami," he announced in a sharp, irritated tone.
“Did you have a good flight?” The voice on the other end sounded highly amused.
“What do you want?”
“Just to welcome you and your company. That little boy there looks familiar, by the way. He’s not Fei Long’s personal squire, is he?”
“The boy is under my protection, Toh. Be careful whose path you decide to cross,” Asami warned as he continued to look at Yoh, whose face, by then, had turned as pale as his fists.
“I would not dream of crossing Asami Ryuichi in Japan, don’t worry. But welcome to China, and take care of yourself. I’ll see you around.”
The conversation was brief and short, but its effects would last for hours to come. “He’s on to us,” Asami said as he bit down on his cigarette a little harder than usual, his eyes flashed a murderous glow. His decision was simple. “We need a change of plan.” Asami’s reaction may be subtle and brief, but Akihito knew the result of that phone call would cost someone something in the near future. Asami Ryuichi is a patient man, but not forgiving.
“He has eyes and ears everywhere in Hong Kong. I had hoped that he would not be able to penetrate your network,” Yoh said with his usual, poker face, but the concern in his eyes gave him away.
“If we’re already being watched, nowhere in China is safe. We don’t have enough men here to protect you,” Kirishima added as he continued to scan the area around them with a gun already in his hand, safety removed.
“Not quite,” Yoh said with reluctance in his tone. “There is one place in China Toh’s men cannot and will not enter.”
“That’s not an option,” Asami replied deliberately without giving it a second for consideration. “We’ll find another place to work with or we go home.”
“I’m not going home until Fei Long is safe!” Akihito said firmly, clutching Tao tightly in his arms, before turning to Yoh and asked, “Are you sure we will be safe there?” He did not fly all the way here to turn back around, and he just knew Asami would use this opportunity to turn around.
“Yes.” From Toh, was what he meant and decided to leave out.
“Then we go there.”
“We are not going anywhere unless I say so,” Asami warned with a look that implied an argument would not be taken without consequences.
By that time, Yoh was far from worried about any consequence that would fall upon him. “If you leave now, he will have successfully chased Asami Ryuichi out of the country with just one phone call. If you stay elsewhere, you put not only Tao, but Takaba in danger. I will make this work. Trust me.”
The irritation on Asami’s face gave Akihito a chill running down his spine. Somehow he had a feeling if he doesn’t interfere the man would shoot Yoh again and make sure no one patches him up this time around. But he did not come all this way for nothing, nor was he the kind of man who gives up so easily. “Asami,” he tugs at the other man’s sleeve. Akihito rarely allows himself to appear so pitiful, but between his pride and two lives that were at stake, he didn’t have to think twice. “You know I rarely ask you for anything. Do this for me.”
For a moment, Asami’s eyes softened a little, even though his tone was still sharp and unwavering. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, Takaba.”
“You're right, I don’t,” he said, looking straight into the other man's golden eyes, suppressing the urge to add that it was not his fault that he was never told anything. “But you’re here. You can protect me.” He wasn’t sure if he would be safe, but this time it was different. This time Asami was there with him.
Asami stared at him for a while, deliberating over the request he knew that doesn’t come often, and then turned to Kirishima. “Get us a helicopter,” he ordered before returning his gaze to Akihito. “And don’t even think about complaining to me later.”
Takaba Akihito raised a brow. “Why? Where are we going?”
Asami took a puff on his cigarette and crushed the rest with his foot, ignoring the question as he went back into the limousine.
Knowing exactly why Asami said what he did, Yoh looked at the boy with a hint of sympathy in his eyes as he answered, “Macau.”
***
The rooftop garden at Baishe headquarter hosted a large, beautiful plum tree. Under it was an antique stone table with four stools, one of the few pieces of furniture Fei Long had taken from their father’s home. Just moments after Yan Tsui seated himself, a maid appeared with a pot of tea and a small selection of what Yan remembered to be Fei Long’s favorite desserts. His brother must have done this as a daily routine, and it didn’t surprise him. It was like Fei Long to be so sentimental. Father liked having his tea in his garden full of plum trees in the afternoon. Sometimes he would ask Fei Long to play the guzheng as he watched the blossoms, his expression turning more and more delicate as the strings continued to be plucked effortlessly. It was one of the few, rare things Yan Tsui enjoyed when the three of them were together. And it was the first thing he decided Fei Long would do for him when his brother returned to Baishe.
“Your guest has arrived, Laoban,” one of the guards entered and informed him. There was a trace of disapproval on the man’s face as he spoke that Yan Tsui decided to ignore, for now. It was understandable, given the nature of his guest’s relationship with Fei Long and knowing how loyal the men still are to his brother.
The guest - a spitting image of his brother - was not in his cheongsam as usual, but in a sleek, black tailored suit with Chinese collared shirt and no tie. The man would have reminded him of Fei Long, had he moved with more grace and held himself with more elegance. Phillip Toh was a picture of perfection from head to toe, but one that does not carve an imprint on those who look upon him. The man was cold and lifeless - a walking doll if he had to describe it more graphically. If Fei Long's color was red, Toh's would be a muddy grey. But while his presence was as muted and subtle as a slithering snake, his venom was deadlier than the creatures themselves.
"Your brother has good taste, I’ll give him that," Toh said as he slowly made his way to the table, stopping along the way to admire the antique decorations strategically placed around the garden. "And quite a temper, I might add."
The corner of Yan's lips lifted into a sneer. His guess was that Fei Long had given them a good fight when he was captured. If Toh thought that any boy his father had raised would agree to captivity so easily, he would soon have to pay for that mistake. "He has always been quite a cat when angered."
Toh chuckled at the description as he seated himself, signaling the maid to serve him tea with a tap on the pot. “Leave us,” he told her after she was done.
Yan Tsui caught the girl’s reluctant gaze and nodded. He was glad, for her sake, that she had the sense to look at him before obeying an order that did not come from her master. Phillip Toh expresses his authority blatantly with anyone, anywhere, regardless of whether he was in his own territory. But Yan Tsui would not have stood for such display of disrespect so quietly had the circumstances been different. Not yet, he told himself. There will be time for pride. “What did he do now?”
Toh sneered as he sipped his tea slowly. "Your cat has single-handedly killed fifteen of my guards, after finishing off the poor old doctor that delivered him from his mother's womb.” His men had alerted him on the phone earlier that morning, how Fei Long had tried to escape and almost succeeded. He was armed with one small surgical knife to begin with, so they told him, and had ended up with not one, but two automatics that he’d managed to accurately shoot with both hands. “He was too fast”, they said. Apparently, he must be, since none of his armed, fully-trained guards were able to stop him from reaching the gate. If he hadn’t collapsed from the poison shortly after, the man would have gotten away and his plans would have all failed. At least the doctor did something right, he smirked at that thought.
“Seeing how relaxed you are, I take it to be a failed attempt?” How relaxed Toh was actually chilled him to the bones. The news didn’t surprise him-- Fei Long was the family’s best assassin who has been known to kill even more on some assignments. What surprised him was how there had been no anger or irritation in Toh's voice. He spoke of it as though they were all his lab rats and he, having learned what his prey can do, was enjoying every moment of it. It occurred to him then, that the man had plans for Fei Long - plans of torture that would be thrown at him in perfect timing, one at a time, but for a long, long time. He wasn't just cruel, he was sick, and the more he spent his time dealing with Toh, the more he was uncertain of the outcome.
“Fortunately, the doctor managed to poison him before he had his throat slit. The problem is, your little brat brother just won't die. How very amusing."
Yan Tsui suppressed a sigh of relief as he heard, remembering how Fei Long was immune to most poisons. "What will you do?" Surely some kind of punishment was in order.
"What indeed." The corner of Toh's lips lifted into an amusing sneer. For now he had ordered his prisoner to be moved to his home in Hong Kong. If Fei Long should escape from his cell again, at least he would be around to deal with it, seeing how his men were so incapable of doing so. But how to punish him where whips, knives, and poison could not break the man, that is a whole different story. "I heard you had a visitor earlier today." It was the reason he came to Baishe, after all.
"News travel fast, don't they?" How many moles exactly does Toh still have inside the building, he wondered.
"They travel at the speed I require. What did he want?"
"What goes on in this building is no business of the Toh family," Yan Tsui replied firmly with his chin slightly raised, followed by a smile of courtesy intentionally displayed as protocol. "With all due respect."
There was a pause from Toh that lasted just a short moment, but its effects did not fall short of frightening. Yan Tsui felt the air solidified in his lungs as he stared back into the other man's dark, hawk-like eyes and reminded himself how he was the leader of Baishe, not Phillip Toh's underling. It had to be made clear, even though with it comes risks he should not take.
Toh broke the eye contact and took a sip of his tea. Placing the cup down on the table slowly, he smiled. As quick as a snake's bite, the man reached for Yan Tsui's wrist and, with a speed too fast for his opponent to react, plunged a knife he had taken from the dessert plate through the back of his hand until the tip of the blade clinked loudly on the stone table. The Baishe leader yelped a short, but agonizing sound before he swallowed the rest of that pain quietly in an attempt to uphold whatever was left of his dignity.
"Your brother once gave me this wound for Mikhail Arbatov's honor," Toh said, twisting the knife a little until the piercing sound of metal against stone filled his appetite. "I want to know what he or anyone your brother loves or so much as looked at from the corner of his eyes want." Another twist earned him a muffled groan. "And you, whose power I restored through my good graces, will tell me what I need to know, or I will take it all back and make sure you suffer every wound I have intended for your little brother. Am I understood?"
Through tightly clenched jaws, Yan Tsui gave him an almost undetectable nod.
Toh twisted the knife again. "I can't hear you."
"Yes!" he exclaimed. "Take out the knife… I'll tell you everything."
The knife stayed in place. "I will remove the knife when I see fit. Now, what did he want?"
"...A trade," he stuttered.
"For Fei Long? With what?"
"Everything he owns in China."
Something in Phillip Toh’s eyes changed dramatically at the news, while a smile of victory slowly crept upon his face. “Well, what do you know?” He said as he removed the knife from the other man’s hand, wiped the blood off on the napkin, and cut out a piece of moon cake with it. “All you need is love.”
It was the opening he had been looking for. After Alexei Arbatov’s death, his brother had declared, in public, that he would not have anything to do with Fei Long or Baishe ever again. John Wong had told him about Fei Long’s unexpected presence in Arbatov’s villa, but then the man went back to pursuing the Japanese man afterwards. Until now he was unsure whether Mikhail Arbatov was still of any use to him. But considering Fei Long’s reaction when he mentioned the Russian’s name and what Yan Tsui had just told him, all he needed was to pick up an old pawn - one he happened to enjoy immensely.
Yan Tsui groaned quietly as he wrapped a napkin around his hand and applied pressure to the wound. “If you kill Fei Long, the Russians will not hesitate to go to war. He’s made that very clear.”
Phillip Toh licked his lips in response. “Why would I kill Fei Long, when alive he can give me so much pleasure?” His sworn enemy in captivity, and Mikhail Arbatov at his beck and call, the thought alone made him salivate.
***
The helicopter landed on top of a 20-story building in Macau. Akihito stepped off after Kirishima and Asami, who had made sure the area was secured. There was no one on the helipad Asami’s men had discreetly prepared for them. Kirishima had arranged for them to be picked up and driven to the Arbatov villa as soon as they’d arrived. “He doesn’t have a helipad in his villa?” Kirishima had asked as he arranged for the car. Yoh, though his face remained the same, answered with a hint of sarcasm in his tone, “He has two. But at this time they will shoot us down before we even see one unless we have gained clearance one week ahead of time.” What Yoh didn’t say, was that Feodora had literally ordered anything from hang gliders to Air Force One to be shot down the moment it enters their airspace unless clearance has been acquired. As a matter of fact, he was still working out how to drive them safely to the front gate. It was unusual for him to act without having planned everything to the T, but every minute lost could be at the cost of Fei Long’s fingers or toes - a thought that made him want to cut off his own just for the sake of lessening the anger in his heart.
They stepped outside the building and found a black Mercedes Benz waiting for them. Before they reached the car, a black Range Rover, flanked on all sides by four black BMWs pulled up next to their ride. Kirishima and Suoh reached for their guns as they instinctively placed themselves in front of Asami and Akihito. Yoh looked at the cars quietly for a few seconds and placed his hand on Kirishima’s arm to signal a stand down. “Bratva,” he whispered. Range Rovers and BMWs with no license plates were the Russian’s trademark in Macau. The lack of a Lamborghini meant that the man himself was not present. He had been counting on this the moment they landed. Mikhail Arbatov may appear to be an impulsive, carefree young man with too much adrenaline than his body can contain, but when it comes to something close to his heart, even the tiniest detail could not escape his notice. Mikhail should have had Asami under close surveillance from the first time Fei Long uttered his name, and consequently would know they were coming that day. The one thing he was not sure of before was whether Fei Long was still close enough to his heart, considering their relationship of late. Apparently, his instinct was right.
Seconds later, bodyguards in black suits with no tie stepped out of the cars and surrounded them.
“They don’t look like his men,” Kirishima said in Japanese suspiciously. The last time he saw them on the casino ship, they were punks in leather and jeans.
“They’re not his,” Yoh replied and glanced at their hands to make sure. Black leather gloves. Feodora’s men. Mikhail’s guards did not wear uniforms, however, the lady boss demands discipline, order, spotless manner and precision from her underlings and made it a rule that they appear so. They were professionals, trained by the very tip of Feodora’s rifles, and from what Yoh knew, came prepared to lose more than body parts should they fail their mission. Sometimes he wondered if Mikhail has a soft spot for ferocious, stubborn bed partners, which would explain a lot about Fei Long and Feodora. “They’re his wife’s. She has been in charge of the household for some time now,” he said, turning his head towards Asami. “There is no safer place on Earth than in that car.”
The standard option of all Mikhail’s vehicles includes bulletproof glass, state-of-the art weapons under the seats, hand grenades within reach and one rocket launcher in the trunk. Fei Long used to roll his eyes and sighed, “Russians,” whenever he saw them. From Yoh’s perspective, however, and especially now, it was one of the extremely few things he agreed with Arbatov. If only he had all these on him, Fei
Long would not have been taken in the first place.
“We have orders to take you to the villa,” one of the guards spoke in English with thick Russian accent as he held the door to the Range Rover open.
Kirishima turned to his boss for approval, and Asami nodded. Tao, Akihito, and Asami shared the Range Rover with Yoh in the front seat next to the driver. Kirishima and Suoh were guided to one of the BMWs. Yoh could tell they wanted to object to the seating arrangement, but Asami had given them a look that sealed their lips.
It usually takes no more than twenty minutes to reach the estate from where they were. On that day it had taken them half an hour. Feodora had installed five checkpoints along the small street that led to the villa. It was a public street by definition, but Mikhail had bought all the land on either side of it for a three-kilometer stretch from the front gate to the main road, turning it automatically into his private property. Most powerful men take privacy seriously, but Mikhail Arbatov, by reputation, would go one step further than many to make sure he doesn’t have to share. That was why he had two helipads in the compound, and why he most likely wouldn’t be able to stand the sight of Asami Ryuichi in his home. For all he knew, it could have been a trip to Asami Ryuichi’s execution. Yoh was hoping the circumstance would make a difference and had given his former boss a promise that they would be safe. A big part of him still doubted it, but that was a fact the man doesn’t need to know. One could say he was risking a lot. But no risk was greater to him than that which concerned Fei Long’s life. A part of him also knew, with Mikhail Arbatov, if anything or anyone would be an exception to the rules of his universe, it was Fei Long. It was the one thing they’d shared in common, and this understanding had made Yoh agree to work with the man in the first place.
The gate opened to reveal a driveway that seemed to be guarded with more guns than a fortress. One could not blame them. The Russian mafias at home declared war on each other with bombs and enough automatic weapons to annihilate a small town. Feodora was used to this and had spared no expense for security. After all, Mikhail was the only heir left to a sick father.
They were frisked both by hand and metal detector prior to entering the house. As they progressed, Akihito felt his hand growing colder by the minute. The guards, armed to the teeth, all with eyes no less cold than Yuri’s, wore identical black leather gloves like assassins who were prepared to make the kill whenever and wherever necessary. Along the way, he must have passed by at least twenty of them from the front gate to the corridor leading to the second floor where their boss presumably was. Countless cold-blooded killers under one man’s command, Akihito thought. To think that he had yelled at this man more than once made him feel suddenly sick. For once, he had to admit Asami was right-- he had no idea what he was talking about or had gotten himself into. While Asami would’ve had him beaten up as punishment for snooping around before they were together, and Fei Long had promised to sell him off as a male prostitute to be passed around if he did not behave accordingly, from the looks of it, the Russians would have shot him for even trespassing on the grass without leave from the boss. It was then that he realized the extent of his privileged position with Asami and Fei Long. It was the only reason why he was still alive, not because of any of his abilities, as he had previously believed. From what he remembered on the casino ship, Mikhail Arbatov had looked at him as nothing more than an insignificant fly he would not bother to squash by his own hand. There would be no privilege given to him here among the Russians. Akihito edged a little closer to Asami at the thought without knowing. At the same time, another kind of anger began to rise in his heart. Asami should have explained all this to him a long time ago. But no, he was kept in the dark, confined to the man’s apartment to do no more than be there, get fucked and make dinner. Worst of all, he had agreed to such condition without too much thought.
The guard who had led them to a room on the second floor told them to wait outside while he announced their arrival. Soon after they were allowed to enter. There were two more guards inside and one woman standing near the desk behind them. She was tall, slender, and beautiful. Her dress, black, cleanly cut and form-fitting, pressed meticulously to the last inch looked as sharp as her four-inch needle heels. She had a presence that made one feel compelled to straighten themselves by reflex just to not ruin her picture of perfection - a feeling much like walking into a place one doesn’t belong.
She looked up, first at Yoh and then the rest of them, keeping her eyes on Asami at the end as she measured him from head to toe. Akihito wondered what was on her mind. Most women's gaze lingered on Asami for a long time, drinking the sight of him as their cheeks turned warm. This Russian woman, Mikhail Arbatov's wife he presumed, had an expression that was as hard as a statue and in her eyes a hint of distaste in place of esteem. He could almost see a sneer that she decided not to show.
“He’s been waiting for you,” she said in fluent English to Asami. “I suggest you choose your words wisely. I have enough people to kill as it is.” The way she said it didn’t sound like a threat but rather a chore she would rather not do. For once, he was glad he did not tell Asami what had happened during his captivity on that ship, or else Asami would choose his words extremely well and they wouldn’t get out of there alive.
Asami, who had been increasingly irritated at the fact that his presence was expected virtually everywhere by everyone, just lit himself a cigarette and said, in Japanese, “Stop wasting my time and tell him that I’m here.”
She narrowed her eyes at the response in the way that Akihito could tell she understood the language and didn’t like the fact being known, least of all by Asami. What she didn’t know was that Asami always knew his enemies and allies from the inside out. He must have read her files the moment the Arbatovs came into contact with him and remembered she understands Japanese.
“Before we proceed any further, allow me to explain something to you,” she responded intentionally in English. “In case you are ignorant, I am the lady of this household, and I am not here to do the dishes or please my husband when he comes home as you may have been used to,” she paused and leaned back on the table behind her, raising her chin slightly. “I am here as my husband’s second in command. The only one who gets to order me around is the man sitting inside of that room. Should it amuse me to waste your time, I will waste your time. Now, he has been expecting you so I will let this slide. But the next time you feel like threatening me with your pathetic male hormones, you’d better beg him to let you live, because he is the only one who can save you. Have I made myself clear, or do I need to repeat that in Japanese?” She could not pinpoint exactly why the man irritated her so when too many men like him had tried to dominate her in the past and her patience did not always break. Perhaps it was the fact that he was Asami Ryuichi, the man who was responsible for sending Mikhail into fits of rage for the past few years that was the true reason behind her distaste for him. She had long wanted to know what this man was like to have Fei Long fall head over heels for him, even when he had been given all of Mikhail's love, and she hadn’t. When he turned out to be just another egotistic Asian man brimming with self-importance who doesn’t think twice before discriminating against a woman, she could swear the bad taste in her mouth was going to make her throw up sooner or later. In comparison, Fei Long had never shown a hint of ego and had always regarded her as his equal from the beginning. She began to understand why Mikhail loves him so. But the fact that Fei Long had picked this man over him was something she would never understand or forgive for as long as she lives.
Akihito could feel a drop of sweat forming on his forehead after hearing what she said. He had been trying to improve his English since they had come back from Hong Kong through lessons and home study, but at the moment he wished his lessons didn't work so well. It wasn't her threats that sent a shiver down his spine, but the thought of how Asami would respond to being threatened that way given the circumstances. He wanted to say something to break that tension, but at times like these, he couldn’t even move to wipe the sweat from his brow.
Surprisingly, Asami looked at her with his usual, unaffected expression. When he began to reach inside his jacket, before the guards could fish out their guns, Feodora had snatched one from under the desk Akihito realized she had never moved away from. It was aimed right between Asami's eyes before he finished pulling out the pack of Dunhill. He didn't have to know how to shoot to know she wouldn’t miss, seeing her solid stance and the sharpness of her eyes. Asami looked at the silver glock, disregarded it, and continued to light his cigarette, taking his time as though nothing was wrong with that situation.
"I'm impressed," he said, smiling a little as he blew out the smoke. "Tell me, what is a woman like you doing with a spoiled brat like Mikhail Arbatov?"
Akihito could almost sigh in relief. He had forgotten just how composed and in control Asami was. Of course, he was too smart to do something stupid and most likely knew precisely how to handle the situation to his advantage. Besides, a man like Asami does not allow himself to be affected by petty insults. It was then that he began to feel safe again, knowing who was there with him.
But like Asami, Feodora kept her composure. She lowered the gun and returned it to its place under the desk, her movements now almost seemed too graceful to handle a weapon. She smiled amusingly at his words, as if she knew something he didn't. "How or why I chose him is not your concern, but when you insult my husband you insult my decision. That I don't overlook twice. You'd do well to remember this as my last warning." She was a proud woman, and prouder of her choices. Before they’d arrived on the villa, Akihito had hoped that Asami’s quarrel with Mikhail may be alleviated to a certain degree by the help from his wife, assuming that as a woman, she may not enjoy the conflict. Now that he’d met her, he realized from just a few words she had spoken, that the only side this woman would take was her husband’s regardless of all reasons and circumstances. The answer to Asami's question, though unspoken, was clear. A woman like her would not devote such loyalty to a simple spoiled brat.
Without leaving them any chance to respond, she turned away and pushed opened the door to the inner room. Akihito noticed how delicate her movements had become, and how her eyes turned a little soft when she stepped into the shadow of that room. It could be just a feeling he had or a hunch for he was certain she did not show it on her face or in her voice when she said, "Just you," to Asami to make sure only he was to go in. Akihito nodded quietly to say he would be fine and watched Asami entered the room with a heavy heart. They say Mikhail Arbatov would do anything for Fei Long. That moment he prayed that it was true. He may not understand a single thing that was going on between the Russian, his wife and the Chinese man, but what he did understand was that their lives depended on the validity of that statement alone.
The dimly lit room smelled like a mixture of coffee and cigarettes. Feodora stepped closer to the large mahogany desk that had been turned to face the monitors that covered the entire length and height of the wall. Just as she had left him, Mikhail was still standing over the desk, staring at those monitors as he switched the view back and forth on the keyboard. His lunch, barely touched, was still sitting nearby and the wine had never been poured. She was certain the black leather chair by the desk had never been used since she left. She had known him since he was just a kid. When something bothers him that much, if one forced him to sit still or rest he would go mad.
It was not how she wanted him to be seen by his sworn enemy, with his unruly hair and his linen shirt so heavily wrinkled. But during times like these, when he refused to cloud his judgement with even a drop of wine, nothing anyone say or do will ever get his attention. If one of those monitors could reveal Fei Long's location, she knew Mikhail wouldn’t move from it until they do. Phillip Toh owns more than 500 properties in China, and they couldn’t tap into the security cameras of all of them. It could take months or forever to find him this way, but she knew he would do it, on top of everything else he could do, until he got what he wanted. It was why Asami Ryuichi had been brought here, even when the entire world knew how much Mikhail detested this man.
He turned around slowly when he heard their presence. There was no hostility in his gaze, only fatigue when he looked quietly at the Japanese man. Mikhail always sees the big picture and knows his priorities. It was the reason why, given his reckless lifestyle, he had survived this long in their world. She knew her husband wouldn’t be the one to start a fight given what he had to lose. The question was, does Asami Ryuichi possess the same maturity and restraint? She would prefer to not kill him here and now. They had enough things to worry about and too many enemies at their gates.
"You're never going to find him that way," Asami said when he realized what the monitors were showing. While it was a good idea, he doubted Toh would be so careless as to let Fei Long’s location slip so easily. But looking at the Russian now, he could tell the man was fully aware of that fact. He had never seen Mikhail Arbatov in that state. The man looked completely drained of energy, and energy was something the Russian was never short of.
Mikhail shrugged indifferently at the comment. "It kills time," he replied and lit himself a cigarette, his blue eyes fixed on the other man's as he asked, with the tone that lacked all traces of playfulness or spite, "Why are you here?"
Asami considered the question for a moment, knowing immediately the way it was spoken demanded a straightforward, businesslike response. It was one of the reasons why he used to like doing business with the Russian. Mikhail Arbatov was always direct and quick to make a point, never wasting time for pretentious ceremony. "You need my help."
"Do I?" Mikhail cocked his head to one side in curiosity, but the playful smile that usually appeared with the gesture did not show. "I need someone who has a history with Toh, someone who knows his organization inside and out with moles still active and alive. Most of all, I need someone I can trust that will not betray Fei Long.” He paused to knock the ashes off the cigarette before returning his gaze to the other man, looking straight into the golden eyes, ready to catch whatever lies that might surface. “Are you that man?"
Asami responded with a knowing smirk before taking another puff from his cigarette. "Is that not why I'm here?" Information gathering was one of Arbatov’s strongest assets. It was often what he’d used to trade with them for. From what he knew of their capabilities, the Russians probably knew exactly what his uses were before he’d even decided to hop on a plane to Hong Kong. “You must believe in it enough to leak my itinerary to Toh to make sure I would end up here.” The moment they had been picked up in Macau he knew the whole thing had Mikhail Arbatov written all over it. It would not only force him to cooperate without being the one to beg for the favor, but it would also give Toh a message that he was on the Russian’s side. Apparently, even after going through all this mess, Vladimir Arbatov’s heir hadn’t lost his touch. The man was as manipulative as Fei Long was sincere, and it was the reason why he had always avoided getting involved with them beyond quick business transactions.
If it had been another time, Mikhail would have smiled amusingly at how his plan was so quickly discovered, but then he just nodded. "I believe in your usefulness. But the question is why should I trust you? After all, you have betrayed him once before."
It was a good question, but one no answer would satisfy, given the nature of its seeker. The rule of dealing with Mikhail Arbatov, he used to tell himself from time to time, was to remember that he trusts no one, and to never trust him.
"The way I see it, you either brought me here because you already do, or you're willing to take the risk. Why don't you quit wasting our time with questions you already know the answer to?”
"You're missing one more option. I could have brought you here to kill you."
Asami responded with a smile that did not quite reach his eyes as he moved closer to the other man and tapped his cigarette on the ashtray. "Fei Long would consider that an option. The Mikhail Arbatov I know would make use of me first and kill me later,” he said, standing face to face with the Russian, making sure the man understood he could not and would not be threatened. “I know who you are and how you think as much as you know me. That was how it worked before you decided to overstep your boundary and mess with my personal life." They’d had a good business relationship, one without trust but with a certain unspoken understanding of each other’s boundaries and limits. But Fei Long had to come along and made him an enemy out of an existing powerful resource he once considered Mikhail Arbatov to be. He’d never liked the idea of them together from the beginning, and he disliked it even more now that he’d been dragged into such a mess this way.
“Fair enough,” Mikhail replied without a hint of emotion in his tone. "Based on the fact that I do know you, what do you expect to get out of this? Surely you're not here for the sake of the boy or Fei Long." Asami Ryuichi doesn’t do anything for free, that much he was certain and has known for a long time. But, especially then, it was the way he wanted it to be - strictly business. When the situation changes, he would not owe the man a damn thing.
Crushing his smoke on the ashtray, Asami gave the younger man an approving grin. He had come here for many reasons, and Akihito's request was just one of them. As a rule, he doesn’t make a move unless it is in some ways profitable. Mikhail Arbatov saw through it in an instant, although Asami had not expected any less from him. He often wondered if Fei Long actually knew what the man was capable of, and how they’d managed to last this long given the Chinese man's regard for honesty and the Russian's tendency to never follow a straight line. Was it possible, having mastered the art of manipulation, that Mikhail Arbatov had never shown Fei Long the ugly side of him?
"Based on the fact that I do know you would do anything for him, I have the leverage to name my price when I see fit, which is not now. Let's make this simple. I do this, and you owe me one. Do we have a deal?" Having someone like Mikhail Arbatov owing him a favor could become hugely profitable. The satisfaction alone was big enough.
The room fell dead silent for a few minutes as the two men stared at each other, attempting to read the other man’s mind. Feodora who had been listening to the conversation quietly until then shifted her weight uncomfortably. Mikhail hated owing anyone anything unless the person was dear to his heart. But apart from his personal preference, it was generally a dangerous move to make a deal without knowing the price, especially with someone like Asami Ryuichi. Had it been her choice, she would never agree to it. But where Fei Long, who had singlehandedly driven Mikhail into all kinds of madness and suicidal behaviors many times of late, was concerned, there was no telling how far he was willing to go or how much he was willing to risk to save the man's life.
“You can use the guest rooms in the west wing," Mikhail said after breaking the eye contact and turning back towards the screens. "My wife is in charge of the household. She will brief you on the rules that will keep you from being shot at by protocol. I suggest you follow it because they’re her men, not mine.”
Feodora squeezed her eyes shut for a moment to brace herself for what was to come. Knowing nothing she could’ve said would have made a difference, she decided to stay quiet and proceeded to open the door to show the guest out, signifying that the conversation was over. As Asami exited the room, Mikhail called her to stay.
“Put five guards each on the boys. Tell the men to shoot on sight if they try to leave without permission but keep them alive. And get Yoh in here.”
Feodora nodded. Hearing the word boys made her feel suddenly relieved. He didn’t just mean Tao. “You didn’t trust him for a second, did you?” Mikhail was as sharp as ever, perhaps even more so now that he has decided to put all his emotions aside.
“He’s not the only one with leverage. Keep that Japanese boy here and make sure he doesn’t get himself killed.”
“And Fei Long’s boy? I was under the impression that you were fond of him.”
“I am fond of him,” he replied. “But I will see him or anyone in this house dead before he becomes a liability to Fei Long. Keep him safe from Toh, or kill him if you can’t.”
She looked into his eyes and remembered the meaning of that gaze. He doesn’t often ask her to do anything for him, but for the few times that he did, he would look at her like this, in his eyes was written a message that was loud and clear, "You are the only one I can trust." She may not have his love, but what she had not even Fei Long would earn anytime soon, if not ever. For it she would do anything, even if it meant killing an innocent child in cold blood. "I've got you covered. You just do what you need to do."
As she left the room, her steps came to a pause momentarily. Something about the deal with Asami Ryuichi had slipped her mind then. She looked back over her shoulder to the man who resumed his previous task like nothing had changed. As though he could sense her question, Mikhail turned to her briefly and gave her an almost unnoticeable grin - the one only she and Alexei could read. Smiling back, she shook her head disapprovingly.
He never said yes.
***
P.S. I know, I know, no Fei. It's blasphemy! He'll be back in 13. Hell, the entire cast is back in 13. Let me know you're still reading and what you think of this chapter (rotten tomatoes are welcomed, I need inputs, guys) so my beta and I know if we actually have a cause to update fast XD *evil laugh*
P.P.S. For those who don't care for AxA, I'm sorry I just have to write them. The only reason I don't like AxA is because I don't think their relationship works as is in the manga, so this is my take to understand them better, like them better and I find it interesting to write them as a couple that I can like. Feel free to skim if you need to, but I just have to do this ^^! But this is also my chance to make Asami come clean with what he feels toward Fei Long, my chance to make Aki a character with more depth, and to give Asami a heart so bear with me on this ^^!
AND OH!!! PLEASE TELL ME YOU'RE ALL EXCITED ABOUT FEI'S NOVEL PROLOGUE IN THIS MONTH'S GOLD!!! I kid you not, people, if it's Mik x Fei, you can ask me for anything!!
Title: Retribution Twelve
Rating: PG-13
Warning: None
Characters: Mikhail, Asami, Aki, Kirishima, Yoh, Tao, Yan, Toh, Alexei(I WISH!!)
Spoiler: Spoiler for NT arc
Disclaimer: All characters belong to YA sensei.
Beta: angel0399
Previous Chapters: For new readers, 'Retribution' is the third arc of a Mik x Fei trilogy that I've suffered my readers with since 2007. In order to make sense of it I'm afraid you will need to read 'Cruel Intentions' and its sequel 'Revelation' before you begin 'Retribution.' All the links are organized on the side bar of my lj kajornwan along with the trilogy's one-shot fillers. Russian, Chinese, Polish, Spanish (COMPLETED! OMG!), German, and French (thank you everyone!) translations by readers are also found here. To make life even easier, a dear reader gryffin-draco has gone through the trouble of putting these in PDF files for download. Cruel Intentions and Revelation. Thank you so much sweetie.
Akihito looked quietly at his watch for perhaps the twentieth time that afternoon. One more hour to go, he thought and sighed heavily. The flight to Hong Kong was to last approximately four hours, but the past three hours, to him, felt like three days. Asami was just sitting there quietly by himself reading reports and answering emails as usual. Had he not known the man better, he would have felt angry with Asami for appearing so unaffected about the situation. But Akihito did know the man, and the mere fact that he had chosen a seat two rows away told him something wasn't right. Asami was not an affectionate man, nor does he talk a lot. As a couple - if he had the right to describe their relationship with such word at all - they don't cuddle, hold hands, or embrace each other unless during sex. Not to mention that Asami tends to avoid intimate conversations with more efforts than he does bullets. But no matter how cold and distant their relationship may be out of bed, the older man had always, without fail, positioned himself nearby whenever they were together. Everyone knows Asami Ryuichi does not watch TV other than for news, but one would find him on the sofa just the same when Akihito watches the series or game shows, just reading his reports or the newspaper. When he cooks, Asami would be in the kitchen. When he sleeps, he would always wake up to find the older man doing something in the bedroom long after he has awakened. That was the level of their unspoken intimacy that kept Akihito from running too far away. The only few times when Asami kept himself distant was when something truly affected him emotionally. That was how he knew something was wrong.
Akihito found himself sighing once more. He must have done it a hundred times in the past three hours. The more he looked at Asami, the more suffocated he felt. Every once in a while the man would look up from his report, stare into the empty space in front of him for a minute or two as though an unwelcome thought had disturbed him, and inhale a lung full of air he had neglected to breathe when he decided to drive the thought away. It made him wonder what went on in the older man’s mind. Was he planning a strategy? Was he thinking about the past? Or was it the thought of Fei Long that caused the periodically tightening of his jaws? Despite his expression that never changed, Akihito could tell the event was affecting him enough to throw a man like Asami off balance. And from the thin veil of stress on Kirishima’s face, he knew he was not wrong.
It was during times like these, that Akihito was reminded of the true distance between them. Asami does not and will not confide in him no matter what he has to go through. There was a wall around him that was off-limits and unbreakable, and at the end of the day, Akihito was just one of those people on the other side of that wall, like everyone else. He maybe the closest one to Asami physically, but emotionally, no one was allowed to get that close - except maybe Fei Long.
Every time Fei Long entered his life Asami would be like this. It was as if the Chinese man had made a crack in Asami's otherwise indestructible defense system and saw something he was not supposed to. Just as Fei Long had never moved on from whatever incident that happened eight years ago, Asami, too, had never managed to erase completely whatever mark that past left in his heart. He was close enough to notice the twitching of Asami's brows every time Fei Long was mentioned, even though it appeared only for a split second. He was close enough to hear the difference in Asami's breathing pattern every time Fei Long appeared before him. He doesn’t have to know the whole story to see that in Fei Long's hand lies a part of Asami Ryuichi that was indeed vulnerable - something Akihito was not allowed to touch or have a glimpse of. And perhaps that was why Asami had always tried to avoid being involved with the Chinese man. Fei Long brings out a part of Asami no one else gets to see - the part he can't control. It was this fact about them that had been a pain in his heart for months, and it was one of the reasons he’d wanted to get involved in this situation. Fei Long was someone he cared about enough to risk a lot to save, but he also needed to know the content of Asami's heart. If he didn't do this, Asami would never allow himself to be directly involved with Fei Long again, and he will never have a chance to know. The problem was, can he stomach the truth when it hits him in the face?
If all this wasn't enough to make him want to throw up his lunch, the other two guests on the plane would soon make it happen. Tao, now sleeping on his lap, had been sobbing periodically for hours since he’d found out what happened to Fei Long. Yoh, who had refused to eat since he woke up this morning, had barely spoken a word to the boy except for a short, merciless explanation of, "Fei Long has been kidnapped. We need to move you to a secure place." After that he has retreated into a world of his own. Not a word of comfort to the boy was spoken no matter how hard he cried, not one answer was given to a single question the boy asked. For three hours he stared outside the window, his right hand clenched so tight around the armrest that would leave scars on the leather. His eyes were burning with so much anger that Akihito wasn’t sure if it was meant for his enemies or for himself. The wounds on his knuckles seemed self-inflicted, and for some reason he had a feeling they would not be the last. He had never seen Yoh that way. Even Asami had stopped asking him questions after a few times when he’d refused to answer.
When the plane landed, Asami’s men were waiting for them with a limousine. Akihito took a deep breath in hope that the knot in his stomach would go away. He was back in Hong Kong - a place full of memories he wished he had forgotten. It was the last place on Earth he wanted to be and suddenly he found his feet too heavy to move at the thought. He felt a light touch on the back of his shoulder and looked up. Asami was standing next to him, reassuring him with a subtle gesture that was almost a natural reflex, his eyes focused cautiously on the car and his surroundings. That was the man’s way of saying, “There’s nothing to worry about.” Despite his cold and heartless façade, Asami Ryuichi notices more than he appears, and in his own ways, was warmer than he leads one to believe. Knowing this, he took comfort in that brief, casual contact and forced his legs to move. If Asami Ryuichi tells you there’s nothing to worry about, you believe him.
He removed his hand as his cellphone rang. Akihito saw the slight knot of his brows as he looked at the caller ID. He switched his focus to Yoh in the way that made everyone froze and held their breaths, and then answered the call.
“Asami," he announced in a sharp, irritated tone.
“Did you have a good flight?” The voice on the other end sounded highly amused.
“What do you want?”
“Just to welcome you and your company. That little boy there looks familiar, by the way. He’s not Fei Long’s personal squire, is he?”
“The boy is under my protection, Toh. Be careful whose path you decide to cross,” Asami warned as he continued to look at Yoh, whose face, by then, had turned as pale as his fists.
“I would not dream of crossing Asami Ryuichi in Japan, don’t worry. But welcome to China, and take care of yourself. I’ll see you around.”
The conversation was brief and short, but its effects would last for hours to come. “He’s on to us,” Asami said as he bit down on his cigarette a little harder than usual, his eyes flashed a murderous glow. His decision was simple. “We need a change of plan.” Asami’s reaction may be subtle and brief, but Akihito knew the result of that phone call would cost someone something in the near future. Asami Ryuichi is a patient man, but not forgiving.
“He has eyes and ears everywhere in Hong Kong. I had hoped that he would not be able to penetrate your network,” Yoh said with his usual, poker face, but the concern in his eyes gave him away.
“If we’re already being watched, nowhere in China is safe. We don’t have enough men here to protect you,” Kirishima added as he continued to scan the area around them with a gun already in his hand, safety removed.
“Not quite,” Yoh said with reluctance in his tone. “There is one place in China Toh’s men cannot and will not enter.”
“That’s not an option,” Asami replied deliberately without giving it a second for consideration. “We’ll find another place to work with or we go home.”
“I’m not going home until Fei Long is safe!” Akihito said firmly, clutching Tao tightly in his arms, before turning to Yoh and asked, “Are you sure we will be safe there?” He did not fly all the way here to turn back around, and he just knew Asami would use this opportunity to turn around.
“Yes.” From Toh, was what he meant and decided to leave out.
“Then we go there.”
“We are not going anywhere unless I say so,” Asami warned with a look that implied an argument would not be taken without consequences.
By that time, Yoh was far from worried about any consequence that would fall upon him. “If you leave now, he will have successfully chased Asami Ryuichi out of the country with just one phone call. If you stay elsewhere, you put not only Tao, but Takaba in danger. I will make this work. Trust me.”
The irritation on Asami’s face gave Akihito a chill running down his spine. Somehow he had a feeling if he doesn’t interfere the man would shoot Yoh again and make sure no one patches him up this time around. But he did not come all this way for nothing, nor was he the kind of man who gives up so easily. “Asami,” he tugs at the other man’s sleeve. Akihito rarely allows himself to appear so pitiful, but between his pride and two lives that were at stake, he didn’t have to think twice. “You know I rarely ask you for anything. Do this for me.”
For a moment, Asami’s eyes softened a little, even though his tone was still sharp and unwavering. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, Takaba.”
“You're right, I don’t,” he said, looking straight into the other man's golden eyes, suppressing the urge to add that it was not his fault that he was never told anything. “But you’re here. You can protect me.” He wasn’t sure if he would be safe, but this time it was different. This time Asami was there with him.
Asami stared at him for a while, deliberating over the request he knew that doesn’t come often, and then turned to Kirishima. “Get us a helicopter,” he ordered before returning his gaze to Akihito. “And don’t even think about complaining to me later.”
Takaba Akihito raised a brow. “Why? Where are we going?”
Asami took a puff on his cigarette and crushed the rest with his foot, ignoring the question as he went back into the limousine.
Knowing exactly why Asami said what he did, Yoh looked at the boy with a hint of sympathy in his eyes as he answered, “Macau.”
***
The rooftop garden at Baishe headquarter hosted a large, beautiful plum tree. Under it was an antique stone table with four stools, one of the few pieces of furniture Fei Long had taken from their father’s home. Just moments after Yan Tsui seated himself, a maid appeared with a pot of tea and a small selection of what Yan remembered to be Fei Long’s favorite desserts. His brother must have done this as a daily routine, and it didn’t surprise him. It was like Fei Long to be so sentimental. Father liked having his tea in his garden full of plum trees in the afternoon. Sometimes he would ask Fei Long to play the guzheng as he watched the blossoms, his expression turning more and more delicate as the strings continued to be plucked effortlessly. It was one of the few, rare things Yan Tsui enjoyed when the three of them were together. And it was the first thing he decided Fei Long would do for him when his brother returned to Baishe.
“Your guest has arrived, Laoban,” one of the guards entered and informed him. There was a trace of disapproval on the man’s face as he spoke that Yan Tsui decided to ignore, for now. It was understandable, given the nature of his guest’s relationship with Fei Long and knowing how loyal the men still are to his brother.
The guest - a spitting image of his brother - was not in his cheongsam as usual, but in a sleek, black tailored suit with Chinese collared shirt and no tie. The man would have reminded him of Fei Long, had he moved with more grace and held himself with more elegance. Phillip Toh was a picture of perfection from head to toe, but one that does not carve an imprint on those who look upon him. The man was cold and lifeless - a walking doll if he had to describe it more graphically. If Fei Long's color was red, Toh's would be a muddy grey. But while his presence was as muted and subtle as a slithering snake, his venom was deadlier than the creatures themselves.
"Your brother has good taste, I’ll give him that," Toh said as he slowly made his way to the table, stopping along the way to admire the antique decorations strategically placed around the garden. "And quite a temper, I might add."
The corner of Yan's lips lifted into a sneer. His guess was that Fei Long had given them a good fight when he was captured. If Toh thought that any boy his father had raised would agree to captivity so easily, he would soon have to pay for that mistake. "He has always been quite a cat when angered."
Toh chuckled at the description as he seated himself, signaling the maid to serve him tea with a tap on the pot. “Leave us,” he told her after she was done.
Yan Tsui caught the girl’s reluctant gaze and nodded. He was glad, for her sake, that she had the sense to look at him before obeying an order that did not come from her master. Phillip Toh expresses his authority blatantly with anyone, anywhere, regardless of whether he was in his own territory. But Yan Tsui would not have stood for such display of disrespect so quietly had the circumstances been different. Not yet, he told himself. There will be time for pride. “What did he do now?”
Toh sneered as he sipped his tea slowly. "Your cat has single-handedly killed fifteen of my guards, after finishing off the poor old doctor that delivered him from his mother's womb.” His men had alerted him on the phone earlier that morning, how Fei Long had tried to escape and almost succeeded. He was armed with one small surgical knife to begin with, so they told him, and had ended up with not one, but two automatics that he’d managed to accurately shoot with both hands. “He was too fast”, they said. Apparently, he must be, since none of his armed, fully-trained guards were able to stop him from reaching the gate. If he hadn’t collapsed from the poison shortly after, the man would have gotten away and his plans would have all failed. At least the doctor did something right, he smirked at that thought.
“Seeing how relaxed you are, I take it to be a failed attempt?” How relaxed Toh was actually chilled him to the bones. The news didn’t surprise him-- Fei Long was the family’s best assassin who has been known to kill even more on some assignments. What surprised him was how there had been no anger or irritation in Toh's voice. He spoke of it as though they were all his lab rats and he, having learned what his prey can do, was enjoying every moment of it. It occurred to him then, that the man had plans for Fei Long - plans of torture that would be thrown at him in perfect timing, one at a time, but for a long, long time. He wasn't just cruel, he was sick, and the more he spent his time dealing with Toh, the more he was uncertain of the outcome.
“Fortunately, the doctor managed to poison him before he had his throat slit. The problem is, your little brat brother just won't die. How very amusing."
Yan Tsui suppressed a sigh of relief as he heard, remembering how Fei Long was immune to most poisons. "What will you do?" Surely some kind of punishment was in order.
"What indeed." The corner of Toh's lips lifted into an amusing sneer. For now he had ordered his prisoner to be moved to his home in Hong Kong. If Fei Long should escape from his cell again, at least he would be around to deal with it, seeing how his men were so incapable of doing so. But how to punish him where whips, knives, and poison could not break the man, that is a whole different story. "I heard you had a visitor earlier today." It was the reason he came to Baishe, after all.
"News travel fast, don't they?" How many moles exactly does Toh still have inside the building, he wondered.
"They travel at the speed I require. What did he want?"
"What goes on in this building is no business of the Toh family," Yan Tsui replied firmly with his chin slightly raised, followed by a smile of courtesy intentionally displayed as protocol. "With all due respect."
There was a pause from Toh that lasted just a short moment, but its effects did not fall short of frightening. Yan Tsui felt the air solidified in his lungs as he stared back into the other man's dark, hawk-like eyes and reminded himself how he was the leader of Baishe, not Phillip Toh's underling. It had to be made clear, even though with it comes risks he should not take.
Toh broke the eye contact and took a sip of his tea. Placing the cup down on the table slowly, he smiled. As quick as a snake's bite, the man reached for Yan Tsui's wrist and, with a speed too fast for his opponent to react, plunged a knife he had taken from the dessert plate through the back of his hand until the tip of the blade clinked loudly on the stone table. The Baishe leader yelped a short, but agonizing sound before he swallowed the rest of that pain quietly in an attempt to uphold whatever was left of his dignity.
"Your brother once gave me this wound for Mikhail Arbatov's honor," Toh said, twisting the knife a little until the piercing sound of metal against stone filled his appetite. "I want to know what he or anyone your brother loves or so much as looked at from the corner of his eyes want." Another twist earned him a muffled groan. "And you, whose power I restored through my good graces, will tell me what I need to know, or I will take it all back and make sure you suffer every wound I have intended for your little brother. Am I understood?"
Through tightly clenched jaws, Yan Tsui gave him an almost undetectable nod.
Toh twisted the knife again. "I can't hear you."
"Yes!" he exclaimed. "Take out the knife… I'll tell you everything."
The knife stayed in place. "I will remove the knife when I see fit. Now, what did he want?"
"...A trade," he stuttered.
"For Fei Long? With what?"
"Everything he owns in China."
Something in Phillip Toh’s eyes changed dramatically at the news, while a smile of victory slowly crept upon his face. “Well, what do you know?” He said as he removed the knife from the other man’s hand, wiped the blood off on the napkin, and cut out a piece of moon cake with it. “All you need is love.”
It was the opening he had been looking for. After Alexei Arbatov’s death, his brother had declared, in public, that he would not have anything to do with Fei Long or Baishe ever again. John Wong had told him about Fei Long’s unexpected presence in Arbatov’s villa, but then the man went back to pursuing the Japanese man afterwards. Until now he was unsure whether Mikhail Arbatov was still of any use to him. But considering Fei Long’s reaction when he mentioned the Russian’s name and what Yan Tsui had just told him, all he needed was to pick up an old pawn - one he happened to enjoy immensely.
Yan Tsui groaned quietly as he wrapped a napkin around his hand and applied pressure to the wound. “If you kill Fei Long, the Russians will not hesitate to go to war. He’s made that very clear.”
Phillip Toh licked his lips in response. “Why would I kill Fei Long, when alive he can give me so much pleasure?” His sworn enemy in captivity, and Mikhail Arbatov at his beck and call, the thought alone made him salivate.
***
The helicopter landed on top of a 20-story building in Macau. Akihito stepped off after Kirishima and Asami, who had made sure the area was secured. There was no one on the helipad Asami’s men had discreetly prepared for them. Kirishima had arranged for them to be picked up and driven to the Arbatov villa as soon as they’d arrived. “He doesn’t have a helipad in his villa?” Kirishima had asked as he arranged for the car. Yoh, though his face remained the same, answered with a hint of sarcasm in his tone, “He has two. But at this time they will shoot us down before we even see one unless we have gained clearance one week ahead of time.” What Yoh didn’t say, was that Feodora had literally ordered anything from hang gliders to Air Force One to be shot down the moment it enters their airspace unless clearance has been acquired. As a matter of fact, he was still working out how to drive them safely to the front gate. It was unusual for him to act without having planned everything to the T, but every minute lost could be at the cost of Fei Long’s fingers or toes - a thought that made him want to cut off his own just for the sake of lessening the anger in his heart.
They stepped outside the building and found a black Mercedes Benz waiting for them. Before they reached the car, a black Range Rover, flanked on all sides by four black BMWs pulled up next to their ride. Kirishima and Suoh reached for their guns as they instinctively placed themselves in front of Asami and Akihito. Yoh looked at the cars quietly for a few seconds and placed his hand on Kirishima’s arm to signal a stand down. “Bratva,” he whispered. Range Rovers and BMWs with no license plates were the Russian’s trademark in Macau. The lack of a Lamborghini meant that the man himself was not present. He had been counting on this the moment they landed. Mikhail Arbatov may appear to be an impulsive, carefree young man with too much adrenaline than his body can contain, but when it comes to something close to his heart, even the tiniest detail could not escape his notice. Mikhail should have had Asami under close surveillance from the first time Fei Long uttered his name, and consequently would know they were coming that day. The one thing he was not sure of before was whether Fei Long was still close enough to his heart, considering their relationship of late. Apparently, his instinct was right.
Seconds later, bodyguards in black suits with no tie stepped out of the cars and surrounded them.
“They don’t look like his men,” Kirishima said in Japanese suspiciously. The last time he saw them on the casino ship, they were punks in leather and jeans.
“They’re not his,” Yoh replied and glanced at their hands to make sure. Black leather gloves. Feodora’s men. Mikhail’s guards did not wear uniforms, however, the lady boss demands discipline, order, spotless manner and precision from her underlings and made it a rule that they appear so. They were professionals, trained by the very tip of Feodora’s rifles, and from what Yoh knew, came prepared to lose more than body parts should they fail their mission. Sometimes he wondered if Mikhail has a soft spot for ferocious, stubborn bed partners, which would explain a lot about Fei Long and Feodora. “They’re his wife’s. She has been in charge of the household for some time now,” he said, turning his head towards Asami. “There is no safer place on Earth than in that car.”
The standard option of all Mikhail’s vehicles includes bulletproof glass, state-of-the art weapons under the seats, hand grenades within reach and one rocket launcher in the trunk. Fei Long used to roll his eyes and sighed, “Russians,” whenever he saw them. From Yoh’s perspective, however, and especially now, it was one of the extremely few things he agreed with Arbatov. If only he had all these on him, Fei
Long would not have been taken in the first place.
“We have orders to take you to the villa,” one of the guards spoke in English with thick Russian accent as he held the door to the Range Rover open.
Kirishima turned to his boss for approval, and Asami nodded. Tao, Akihito, and Asami shared the Range Rover with Yoh in the front seat next to the driver. Kirishima and Suoh were guided to one of the BMWs. Yoh could tell they wanted to object to the seating arrangement, but Asami had given them a look that sealed their lips.
It usually takes no more than twenty minutes to reach the estate from where they were. On that day it had taken them half an hour. Feodora had installed five checkpoints along the small street that led to the villa. It was a public street by definition, but Mikhail had bought all the land on either side of it for a three-kilometer stretch from the front gate to the main road, turning it automatically into his private property. Most powerful men take privacy seriously, but Mikhail Arbatov, by reputation, would go one step further than many to make sure he doesn’t have to share. That was why he had two helipads in the compound, and why he most likely wouldn’t be able to stand the sight of Asami Ryuichi in his home. For all he knew, it could have been a trip to Asami Ryuichi’s execution. Yoh was hoping the circumstance would make a difference and had given his former boss a promise that they would be safe. A big part of him still doubted it, but that was a fact the man doesn’t need to know. One could say he was risking a lot. But no risk was greater to him than that which concerned Fei Long’s life. A part of him also knew, with Mikhail Arbatov, if anything or anyone would be an exception to the rules of his universe, it was Fei Long. It was the one thing they’d shared in common, and this understanding had made Yoh agree to work with the man in the first place.
The gate opened to reveal a driveway that seemed to be guarded with more guns than a fortress. One could not blame them. The Russian mafias at home declared war on each other with bombs and enough automatic weapons to annihilate a small town. Feodora was used to this and had spared no expense for security. After all, Mikhail was the only heir left to a sick father.
They were frisked both by hand and metal detector prior to entering the house. As they progressed, Akihito felt his hand growing colder by the minute. The guards, armed to the teeth, all with eyes no less cold than Yuri’s, wore identical black leather gloves like assassins who were prepared to make the kill whenever and wherever necessary. Along the way, he must have passed by at least twenty of them from the front gate to the corridor leading to the second floor where their boss presumably was. Countless cold-blooded killers under one man’s command, Akihito thought. To think that he had yelled at this man more than once made him feel suddenly sick. For once, he had to admit Asami was right-- he had no idea what he was talking about or had gotten himself into. While Asami would’ve had him beaten up as punishment for snooping around before they were together, and Fei Long had promised to sell him off as a male prostitute to be passed around if he did not behave accordingly, from the looks of it, the Russians would have shot him for even trespassing on the grass without leave from the boss. It was then that he realized the extent of his privileged position with Asami and Fei Long. It was the only reason why he was still alive, not because of any of his abilities, as he had previously believed. From what he remembered on the casino ship, Mikhail Arbatov had looked at him as nothing more than an insignificant fly he would not bother to squash by his own hand. There would be no privilege given to him here among the Russians. Akihito edged a little closer to Asami at the thought without knowing. At the same time, another kind of anger began to rise in his heart. Asami should have explained all this to him a long time ago. But no, he was kept in the dark, confined to the man’s apartment to do no more than be there, get fucked and make dinner. Worst of all, he had agreed to such condition without too much thought.
The guard who had led them to a room on the second floor told them to wait outside while he announced their arrival. Soon after they were allowed to enter. There were two more guards inside and one woman standing near the desk behind them. She was tall, slender, and beautiful. Her dress, black, cleanly cut and form-fitting, pressed meticulously to the last inch looked as sharp as her four-inch needle heels. She had a presence that made one feel compelled to straighten themselves by reflex just to not ruin her picture of perfection - a feeling much like walking into a place one doesn’t belong.
She looked up, first at Yoh and then the rest of them, keeping her eyes on Asami at the end as she measured him from head to toe. Akihito wondered what was on her mind. Most women's gaze lingered on Asami for a long time, drinking the sight of him as their cheeks turned warm. This Russian woman, Mikhail Arbatov's wife he presumed, had an expression that was as hard as a statue and in her eyes a hint of distaste in place of esteem. He could almost see a sneer that she decided not to show.
“He’s been waiting for you,” she said in fluent English to Asami. “I suggest you choose your words wisely. I have enough people to kill as it is.” The way she said it didn’t sound like a threat but rather a chore she would rather not do. For once, he was glad he did not tell Asami what had happened during his captivity on that ship, or else Asami would choose his words extremely well and they wouldn’t get out of there alive.
Asami, who had been increasingly irritated at the fact that his presence was expected virtually everywhere by everyone, just lit himself a cigarette and said, in Japanese, “Stop wasting my time and tell him that I’m here.”
She narrowed her eyes at the response in the way that Akihito could tell she understood the language and didn’t like the fact being known, least of all by Asami. What she didn’t know was that Asami always knew his enemies and allies from the inside out. He must have read her files the moment the Arbatovs came into contact with him and remembered she understands Japanese.
“Before we proceed any further, allow me to explain something to you,” she responded intentionally in English. “In case you are ignorant, I am the lady of this household, and I am not here to do the dishes or please my husband when he comes home as you may have been used to,” she paused and leaned back on the table behind her, raising her chin slightly. “I am here as my husband’s second in command. The only one who gets to order me around is the man sitting inside of that room. Should it amuse me to waste your time, I will waste your time. Now, he has been expecting you so I will let this slide. But the next time you feel like threatening me with your pathetic male hormones, you’d better beg him to let you live, because he is the only one who can save you. Have I made myself clear, or do I need to repeat that in Japanese?” She could not pinpoint exactly why the man irritated her so when too many men like him had tried to dominate her in the past and her patience did not always break. Perhaps it was the fact that he was Asami Ryuichi, the man who was responsible for sending Mikhail into fits of rage for the past few years that was the true reason behind her distaste for him. She had long wanted to know what this man was like to have Fei Long fall head over heels for him, even when he had been given all of Mikhail's love, and she hadn’t. When he turned out to be just another egotistic Asian man brimming with self-importance who doesn’t think twice before discriminating against a woman, she could swear the bad taste in her mouth was going to make her throw up sooner or later. In comparison, Fei Long had never shown a hint of ego and had always regarded her as his equal from the beginning. She began to understand why Mikhail loves him so. But the fact that Fei Long had picked this man over him was something she would never understand or forgive for as long as she lives.
Akihito could feel a drop of sweat forming on his forehead after hearing what she said. He had been trying to improve his English since they had come back from Hong Kong through lessons and home study, but at the moment he wished his lessons didn't work so well. It wasn't her threats that sent a shiver down his spine, but the thought of how Asami would respond to being threatened that way given the circumstances. He wanted to say something to break that tension, but at times like these, he couldn’t even move to wipe the sweat from his brow.
Surprisingly, Asami looked at her with his usual, unaffected expression. When he began to reach inside his jacket, before the guards could fish out their guns, Feodora had snatched one from under the desk Akihito realized she had never moved away from. It was aimed right between Asami's eyes before he finished pulling out the pack of Dunhill. He didn't have to know how to shoot to know she wouldn’t miss, seeing her solid stance and the sharpness of her eyes. Asami looked at the silver glock, disregarded it, and continued to light his cigarette, taking his time as though nothing was wrong with that situation.
"I'm impressed," he said, smiling a little as he blew out the smoke. "Tell me, what is a woman like you doing with a spoiled brat like Mikhail Arbatov?"
Akihito could almost sigh in relief. He had forgotten just how composed and in control Asami was. Of course, he was too smart to do something stupid and most likely knew precisely how to handle the situation to his advantage. Besides, a man like Asami does not allow himself to be affected by petty insults. It was then that he began to feel safe again, knowing who was there with him.
But like Asami, Feodora kept her composure. She lowered the gun and returned it to its place under the desk, her movements now almost seemed too graceful to handle a weapon. She smiled amusingly at his words, as if she knew something he didn't. "How or why I chose him is not your concern, but when you insult my husband you insult my decision. That I don't overlook twice. You'd do well to remember this as my last warning." She was a proud woman, and prouder of her choices. Before they’d arrived on the villa, Akihito had hoped that Asami’s quarrel with Mikhail may be alleviated to a certain degree by the help from his wife, assuming that as a woman, she may not enjoy the conflict. Now that he’d met her, he realized from just a few words she had spoken, that the only side this woman would take was her husband’s regardless of all reasons and circumstances. The answer to Asami's question, though unspoken, was clear. A woman like her would not devote such loyalty to a simple spoiled brat.
Without leaving them any chance to respond, she turned away and pushed opened the door to the inner room. Akihito noticed how delicate her movements had become, and how her eyes turned a little soft when she stepped into the shadow of that room. It could be just a feeling he had or a hunch for he was certain she did not show it on her face or in her voice when she said, "Just you," to Asami to make sure only he was to go in. Akihito nodded quietly to say he would be fine and watched Asami entered the room with a heavy heart. They say Mikhail Arbatov would do anything for Fei Long. That moment he prayed that it was true. He may not understand a single thing that was going on between the Russian, his wife and the Chinese man, but what he did understand was that their lives depended on the validity of that statement alone.
The dimly lit room smelled like a mixture of coffee and cigarettes. Feodora stepped closer to the large mahogany desk that had been turned to face the monitors that covered the entire length and height of the wall. Just as she had left him, Mikhail was still standing over the desk, staring at those monitors as he switched the view back and forth on the keyboard. His lunch, barely touched, was still sitting nearby and the wine had never been poured. She was certain the black leather chair by the desk had never been used since she left. She had known him since he was just a kid. When something bothers him that much, if one forced him to sit still or rest he would go mad.
It was not how she wanted him to be seen by his sworn enemy, with his unruly hair and his linen shirt so heavily wrinkled. But during times like these, when he refused to cloud his judgement with even a drop of wine, nothing anyone say or do will ever get his attention. If one of those monitors could reveal Fei Long's location, she knew Mikhail wouldn’t move from it until they do. Phillip Toh owns more than 500 properties in China, and they couldn’t tap into the security cameras of all of them. It could take months or forever to find him this way, but she knew he would do it, on top of everything else he could do, until he got what he wanted. It was why Asami Ryuichi had been brought here, even when the entire world knew how much Mikhail detested this man.
He turned around slowly when he heard their presence. There was no hostility in his gaze, only fatigue when he looked quietly at the Japanese man. Mikhail always sees the big picture and knows his priorities. It was the reason why, given his reckless lifestyle, he had survived this long in their world. She knew her husband wouldn’t be the one to start a fight given what he had to lose. The question was, does Asami Ryuichi possess the same maturity and restraint? She would prefer to not kill him here and now. They had enough things to worry about and too many enemies at their gates.
"You're never going to find him that way," Asami said when he realized what the monitors were showing. While it was a good idea, he doubted Toh would be so careless as to let Fei Long’s location slip so easily. But looking at the Russian now, he could tell the man was fully aware of that fact. He had never seen Mikhail Arbatov in that state. The man looked completely drained of energy, and energy was something the Russian was never short of.
Mikhail shrugged indifferently at the comment. "It kills time," he replied and lit himself a cigarette, his blue eyes fixed on the other man's as he asked, with the tone that lacked all traces of playfulness or spite, "Why are you here?"
Asami considered the question for a moment, knowing immediately the way it was spoken demanded a straightforward, businesslike response. It was one of the reasons why he used to like doing business with the Russian. Mikhail Arbatov was always direct and quick to make a point, never wasting time for pretentious ceremony. "You need my help."
"Do I?" Mikhail cocked his head to one side in curiosity, but the playful smile that usually appeared with the gesture did not show. "I need someone who has a history with Toh, someone who knows his organization inside and out with moles still active and alive. Most of all, I need someone I can trust that will not betray Fei Long.” He paused to knock the ashes off the cigarette before returning his gaze to the other man, looking straight into the golden eyes, ready to catch whatever lies that might surface. “Are you that man?"
Asami responded with a knowing smirk before taking another puff from his cigarette. "Is that not why I'm here?" Information gathering was one of Arbatov’s strongest assets. It was often what he’d used to trade with them for. From what he knew of their capabilities, the Russians probably knew exactly what his uses were before he’d even decided to hop on a plane to Hong Kong. “You must believe in it enough to leak my itinerary to Toh to make sure I would end up here.” The moment they had been picked up in Macau he knew the whole thing had Mikhail Arbatov written all over it. It would not only force him to cooperate without being the one to beg for the favor, but it would also give Toh a message that he was on the Russian’s side. Apparently, even after going through all this mess, Vladimir Arbatov’s heir hadn’t lost his touch. The man was as manipulative as Fei Long was sincere, and it was the reason why he had always avoided getting involved with them beyond quick business transactions.
If it had been another time, Mikhail would have smiled amusingly at how his plan was so quickly discovered, but then he just nodded. "I believe in your usefulness. But the question is why should I trust you? After all, you have betrayed him once before."
It was a good question, but one no answer would satisfy, given the nature of its seeker. The rule of dealing with Mikhail Arbatov, he used to tell himself from time to time, was to remember that he trusts no one, and to never trust him.
"The way I see it, you either brought me here because you already do, or you're willing to take the risk. Why don't you quit wasting our time with questions you already know the answer to?”
"You're missing one more option. I could have brought you here to kill you."
Asami responded with a smile that did not quite reach his eyes as he moved closer to the other man and tapped his cigarette on the ashtray. "Fei Long would consider that an option. The Mikhail Arbatov I know would make use of me first and kill me later,” he said, standing face to face with the Russian, making sure the man understood he could not and would not be threatened. “I know who you are and how you think as much as you know me. That was how it worked before you decided to overstep your boundary and mess with my personal life." They’d had a good business relationship, one without trust but with a certain unspoken understanding of each other’s boundaries and limits. But Fei Long had to come along and made him an enemy out of an existing powerful resource he once considered Mikhail Arbatov to be. He’d never liked the idea of them together from the beginning, and he disliked it even more now that he’d been dragged into such a mess this way.
“Fair enough,” Mikhail replied without a hint of emotion in his tone. "Based on the fact that I do know you, what do you expect to get out of this? Surely you're not here for the sake of the boy or Fei Long." Asami Ryuichi doesn’t do anything for free, that much he was certain and has known for a long time. But, especially then, it was the way he wanted it to be - strictly business. When the situation changes, he would not owe the man a damn thing.
Crushing his smoke on the ashtray, Asami gave the younger man an approving grin. He had come here for many reasons, and Akihito's request was just one of them. As a rule, he doesn’t make a move unless it is in some ways profitable. Mikhail Arbatov saw through it in an instant, although Asami had not expected any less from him. He often wondered if Fei Long actually knew what the man was capable of, and how they’d managed to last this long given the Chinese man's regard for honesty and the Russian's tendency to never follow a straight line. Was it possible, having mastered the art of manipulation, that Mikhail Arbatov had never shown Fei Long the ugly side of him?
"Based on the fact that I do know you would do anything for him, I have the leverage to name my price when I see fit, which is not now. Let's make this simple. I do this, and you owe me one. Do we have a deal?" Having someone like Mikhail Arbatov owing him a favor could become hugely profitable. The satisfaction alone was big enough.
The room fell dead silent for a few minutes as the two men stared at each other, attempting to read the other man’s mind. Feodora who had been listening to the conversation quietly until then shifted her weight uncomfortably. Mikhail hated owing anyone anything unless the person was dear to his heart. But apart from his personal preference, it was generally a dangerous move to make a deal without knowing the price, especially with someone like Asami Ryuichi. Had it been her choice, she would never agree to it. But where Fei Long, who had singlehandedly driven Mikhail into all kinds of madness and suicidal behaviors many times of late, was concerned, there was no telling how far he was willing to go or how much he was willing to risk to save the man's life.
“You can use the guest rooms in the west wing," Mikhail said after breaking the eye contact and turning back towards the screens. "My wife is in charge of the household. She will brief you on the rules that will keep you from being shot at by protocol. I suggest you follow it because they’re her men, not mine.”
Feodora squeezed her eyes shut for a moment to brace herself for what was to come. Knowing nothing she could’ve said would have made a difference, she decided to stay quiet and proceeded to open the door to show the guest out, signifying that the conversation was over. As Asami exited the room, Mikhail called her to stay.
“Put five guards each on the boys. Tell the men to shoot on sight if they try to leave without permission but keep them alive. And get Yoh in here.”
Feodora nodded. Hearing the word boys made her feel suddenly relieved. He didn’t just mean Tao. “You didn’t trust him for a second, did you?” Mikhail was as sharp as ever, perhaps even more so now that he has decided to put all his emotions aside.
“He’s not the only one with leverage. Keep that Japanese boy here and make sure he doesn’t get himself killed.”
“And Fei Long’s boy? I was under the impression that you were fond of him.”
“I am fond of him,” he replied. “But I will see him or anyone in this house dead before he becomes a liability to Fei Long. Keep him safe from Toh, or kill him if you can’t.”
She looked into his eyes and remembered the meaning of that gaze. He doesn’t often ask her to do anything for him, but for the few times that he did, he would look at her like this, in his eyes was written a message that was loud and clear, "You are the only one I can trust." She may not have his love, but what she had not even Fei Long would earn anytime soon, if not ever. For it she would do anything, even if it meant killing an innocent child in cold blood. "I've got you covered. You just do what you need to do."
As she left the room, her steps came to a pause momentarily. Something about the deal with Asami Ryuichi had slipped her mind then. She looked back over her shoulder to the man who resumed his previous task like nothing had changed. As though he could sense her question, Mikhail turned to her briefly and gave her an almost unnoticeable grin - the one only she and Alexei could read. Smiling back, she shook her head disapprovingly.
He never said yes.
***
P.S. I know, I know, no Fei. It's blasphemy! He'll be back in 13. Hell, the entire cast is back in 13. Let me know you're still reading and what you think of this chapter (rotten tomatoes are welcomed, I need inputs, guys) so my beta and I know if we actually have a cause to update fast XD *evil laugh*
P.P.S. For those who don't care for AxA, I'm sorry I just have to write them. The only reason I don't like AxA is because I don't think their relationship works as is in the manga, so this is my take to understand them better, like them better and I find it interesting to write them as a couple that I can like. Feel free to skim if you need to, but I just have to do this ^^! But this is also my chance to make Asami come clean with what he feels toward Fei Long, my chance to make Aki a character with more depth, and to give Asami a heart so bear with me on this ^^!
AND OH!!! PLEASE TELL ME YOU'RE ALL EXCITED ABOUT FEI'S NOVEL PROLOGUE IN THIS MONTH'S GOLD!!! I kid you not, people, if it's Mik x Fei, you can ask me for anything!!