[fic]Retribution Fourteen
Sorry for the really late update (at least I didn't take six months). I'm not sure about the quality of this chapter since my brain may still contain some toxin from the recent you-know-what. But if I don't try to get this out, I may just quit this fic altogether. I usually edit a lot more times than this. Sorry.
Title: Retribution Fourteen
Rating: R
Warning: violence, rough hand job, ghosts, OOC (if you agree with Finder No Rakuin), AU (if you agree w/ FNR), but for those who disagree: CWC (Canon? What Canon?)
Characters: EVERYONE even Alexei(yes, mommy still loves you baby!)
Spoiler: Spoiler for NT arc
Disclaimer: All characters belong to YA.
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.
"Go fuck yourself!" Mikhail Arbatov barked into the phone. The device then flew across the room and landed hard-shattering into pieces - on the other side of the table just behind Asami, who did not so much as blink at the event. The Japanese man, if anything, looked a little surprised.
The room fell into deadly silence afterwards. Akihito wound his hand tight around the back of his chair, feeling the air in his lungs solidify as the tension grew by the second. Like Toh, the phone conversation on their end had also been put on speaker per Yoh’s suggestion. “More heads are better than one,” he had said, just in case some information had slipped. While Arbatov had tried to be discreet when he’d spoken to Fei Long, knowing that they were all listening, the tenderness on his face as he’d said those few words was impossible to hide. He didn't have to know the man for a long time to realize the extent of the power Fei Long had over him. Everyone in that room seemed to know this too, which was why his answer came at a surprise to all of them, knowing what it would lead to.
Before Akihito could voice his protest, Yoh, who had been sitting quietly, leapt off his chair, yanked Mikhail up by the collar, and slammed the man against the wall.
“Call him back and tell him you’ll do it!" Yoh demanded in a tone as lethal as a gun to the other man’s head, his words muffled by his tightly gritted teeth. He couldn't care less who he was talking to. Mikhail may just have cost Fei Long a finger or an arm over his stupid pride and temper. For all he knew, Toh may very well be working on him as they speak. “NOW!” His rage tripled the moment that thought entered his mind.
By that time, Feodora had already had her gun pressed hard against Yoh’s skull. The sound of her cocking the semi-automatic was meant to be the last warning. All the while, she kept her eyes on her husband, waiting for the signal. One nod from Mikhail and a bullet would punch through the man's skull, its precision guaranteed by the determination on her face and the firmness of her hand.
The nod never came. Instead, Mikhail grabbed the arm that pinned him to the wall and twisted hard, earning him an opening for a heavy punch below the ribs, causing Yoh to stumble back a few steps.
“Stay back!” he barked at Feodora, his words harsh and final and was followed immediately and precisely. “This has been long overdue.” The man had one job to do and had fucked it up. If it hadn't been for his failure to protect Fei Long, none of this would have happened. Toh wouldn’t have tortured Fei Long and he wouldn't have had to listen to a fucking proposition that had made his blood boil. He had thought he could deal with the man, but now, Toh had already blown his patience and control to bits.
As Yoh tried to regain his balance, Mikhail charged forward, leaving neither room nor time for anyone to interfere. Another blow landed on the other man’s face, this time sending him crashing back against the dining table where Tao was sitting. The boy jumped out of the way just in time and managed to avoid being cut by the broken plates that resulted from the attack. The look on Tao’s face was more shock than fear, Akihito thought. It was understandable. No one had anticipated Yoh to ever lose it this way. Not even Asami, judging from the way he looked at his former spy, and how his cigarette was hanging loosely on his lips.
When Mikhail grabbed him again by the collar, Yoh kneed him in the stomach, followed closely by a punch to his face. The blow may not have been as heavy as the Russian’s given their difference in size, but the bruise was going to last at least a week.
“You think he’s not going to do it?!” Yoh slammed the man back against the wall once more, his voice nearly shouting. “You will have his hand on the table tomorrow morning in return for your fucking ego, and you know it!”
“My fucking ego?!” Mikhail slammed his palms against the man’s chest, shoving him back furiously. “It was your incompetence that got him in this situation in the first place! It was you who betrayed his trust for that piece of shit! And for what? So you can go to sleep at night having kept you precious pride?! Don’t fucking talk to me about my ego! What have you ever done for him?" He looked at the rest of them with eyes that could draw blood. "What has anyone in this room ever done for him?!"
Now panting heavily from the anger that filled his chest, Mikhail curled his fingers into a fist to keep himself under control. Everywhere Fei Long had turned someone was there to stab him in the back. Everyone he’d trusted betrayed him. If it had been his choice, half the people in that room would have been dead a long time ago. As far as he was concerned, none of them had the right to even talk about what he should or shouldn’t do for Fei Long.
Every one of them should just fucking die, starting with that Japanese prick. Why Alexei? Why did it have to be Alexei?
Yoh snatched a handful of his shirt and yanked the man closer, staring straight into his eyes. "Why don’t you tell me how you will sleep at night when his head gets served to you on a plate?”
Mikhail’s eyes flashed deadly white at that precise moment when the last thread of his control had finally snapped.
“I am not doing a damn thing for that scum who killed my brother!”
The sound of his rage was deafening. He only had to raise his voice a little louder and Akihito thought the crystal chandelier would shatter right before his eyes. He had been told briefly about what had happened to Arbatov’s younger brother by Kirishima, but had forgotten that detail up until then. It seemed to him that everyone, even Feodora, had been concentrating so much on Fei Long that they had forgotten it too. Mikhail Arbatov was still drowning in that loss. The pain in his voice was almost too much to witness-- even Yoh seemed to have calmed down to realize what he was asking the man to do.
“Then you will lose him too,” Yoh said much calmer now than before, even though his expression remained the same. He might have felt a little sympathy for the man who was facing a proposition no one should have to endure, much less a man in Arbatov’s position. But in the end, it all came down to what Mikhail and him stood to lose. Fei Long was the only thing left in the world that mattered to them. Mikhail could not afford to lose him even at the cost of doing this, just as he would cut out his heart if it ever stood between Fei Long and his life.
“I don’t care what you have to do. But if he wants you to get down on your knees, crawl on all fours and suck his cock, you will do it. Because if you don’t, he is as good as dead.” It wasn’t an easy thing for him to ask. He had been there to witness what Alexei Arbatov’s death did to Mikhail and even Fei Long was cast aside in the event. The bond between the two of them was as deep as the scars on the man's back. But he was hoping-praying-- that Fei Long’s worth to Mikhail would be enough to make a difference.
“You were right-- in all of his life, no one had ever sacrificed anything for him,” Yoh said quietly the words that pained him like a blunt knife through his heart. For seven years he had felt like a cripple by Fei Long's side, and now that he was free to do what his heart desires, the power to save Fei Long was still not his. Yet now there was something he could do, words he could say to make a difference. What he couldn’t sacrifice for Fei Long before - his pride, his integrity of having promised his loyalty to Asami Ryuichi before him - he would ask Mikhail Arbatov to. “You are the only one who can.”
It wasn't a pretty sight to witness, seeing a man like Mikhail Arbatov swallow his pride and submit to something he would rather die than consider. But when the rage in those eyes subsided, Yoh knew he had hit a homerun. Mikhail may have been more than ready to die with Fei Long than succumb to such an unimaginable request, but he was not ready to be yet another man who failed Fei Long, especially when he was the last remaining one the Baishe leader could count upon. It was unspeakable of him to use this as his weapon against Arbatov, knowing what he was asking the man to do, but this time, at least he would sacrifice the integrity whose value he’d once held higher than life itself for Fei Long. It was what he could do, and he would not fail him a third time. He would get Fei Long out of there, even if it had required him to become a monster.
Akihito could feel the tension between them electrify the air as they stared at each other in intense silence. Mikhail Arbatov stood as still as a rock, as if those words had completely paralyzed him, while Yoh's immovable dedication nailed his feet to the ground. They exchanged no words in that suffocating stillness, but the battle of will that took place that day could have caused the ground to rumble beneath their feet. Yet somewhere in the middle of all the hostility, a certain kind of bond that linked them together was also apparent. It was then that Akihito understood why the two of them had joined forces given all the odds. Together they’d shared one thing in common and knew the kind of understanding and trust between them would never be reached by any other way. For as long as Fei Long lives, their paths, although may never entwine, would be forever paralleled. They both were aware of this, especially since Arbatov had clearly opted to let the other man live after such an assault.
Mikhail took a long, deep breath and closed his eyes for a second as he exhaled. His rage had dissipated and his control seemed to have returned, only the tightness of his jaws told Akihito the tension was far from over. How could it be over? Akihito thought. The consequence of his decision that day was something the man had to bear and bear alone-- most likely for as long as he lives.
"Call Toh and tell him he'll have my answer in the morning," Mikhail said in a slow, emotionless tone. It was difficult to tell from his expression whether he had already made a decision or if he was just going to consider it. Knowing what he knew, Akihito could not help but worry for Tao. Sending the boy didn’t seem to be an option for the Russian then, which was probably why he had given Toh that answer. But being pushed to the edge with the truth in Yoh’s words that way, nothing was certain anymore.
Mikhail Arbatov went back to the monitor room alone after that without another word. It was the first time Akihito had seen Yoh sigh that way after all the time he had spent at Baishe. As Yoh straightened his clothes and wiped the blood off his lips, Feodora approached him quietly. She paused at a distance close enough to be called intimate, yet the hostility in her eyes sang a completely different tune. He adjusted himself to the unexpected invasion of his personal space, and yet she gained an inch nearer, until her words, spoken in a near whisper, could be heard loud and clear.
"The next time you turn against him," she said, pausing for a second to allow the words to sink in, "I won't wait for permission. Do I make myself clear?"
Surprisingly to Akihito, Yoh stood his ground and stared down at her, his eyes turning ice-cold as he spoke. "Considering that I've just saved your husband's life, you might want to show a little gratitude."
"By forcing him to submit to his enemy?" she said with mocking smile. "I forgot, that was what you did for Fei Long, wasn't it? Better to stab him in the back than put him in danger." She had been kept completely out of the loop concerning Fei Long’s past, but because of the efficiency of her network, she was able to find some tidbits that even Mikhail might not know. “Have you ever asked him how he sleeps at night?”
Yoh paused for a second, surprised at the amount of information she seemed to have gathered. It would be a lie to say those words didn't get right under his skin, but pain was something he had lived with ever since he could remember. Pain was something that was always apparent when he was around Fei Long. He had grown too accustomed to pain to not let it interfere with his decisions, especially when there was so much more at stake. He could not afford to make room for his own problems, the same way Feodora could not afford to waste time concentrating on what he had done or was about to do.
"Open your eyes woman," he said. Surely he wasn't the only one who saw it - the hopelessness in those pale blue eyes that lacked their usual liveliness and intensity. The reason Mikhail had ended the conversation the way he did and crushed the phone in that manner wasn’t just rage or pride. The man had been pushed to his limits, and was inches away from breaking.
"If Fei Long dies, he will not live."
***.
The night was long and unbearable. Akihito shifted on the bed from side to side, trying to sleep and constantly failing. He looked at the half-opened door that opened to the living room and saw that the light was still on. Asami was still sitting out there, going through his second pack of cigarettes as if he needed them to survive. It was enough to tell Akihito that he, too, was being affected by what had happened in the dining room earlier that evening. But the fact that he was in here and Asami was out there, stressing about the same thing, bothered him like never before.
He got up and went into the living room, making enough noise on purpose to make himself noticed. Asami was sitting on the couch alone, with his back turned to Akihito.
“Go back to bed.” He stirred a little but did not turn around when he’d spoke.
Akihito was done taking orders. He took a long, deep breath and planted his feet firmly on the floor. “Tell me about Fei Long.”
“Not now.” Asami brushed it aside without a moment of pause.
“Now!” Takaba demanded. “You can’t keep me in the dark any longer.”
***
The clock struck once, followed closely by the lightning that had brought him back to consciousness. Mikhail looked at his watch and exhaled heavily. 1:00 AM. He must have fallen asleep on his desk while watching the monitors. Recently-yet understandably-- he had lost track of when he last had a full night’s sleep. The only thing he could remember was that the last time he’d tried, he had forced himself up from the nightmares that kept haunting him night after night. The voices in his head had not stopped since then, they only grew in frequency and number during the day whenever he tried to take a break. His headache grew with them like a bad hangover that just wouldn’t stop.
“Him. I want him.”
The sky flashed brightly before the lightning struck again. He looked up and saw Alexei standing in front of the monitors, looking straight at him with his green eyes as bright as emerald, his soft brown hair glowing subtly in the dark.
“I want him.”
Mikhail shut his eyes for a moment and opened them again. His brother was gone now. A child now stood in his place, holding an old basketball in his hands, beckoning him to play. Slowly, a memory he didn’t know he had retained came back to him. He was twelve and Alexei was ten. They had broken their father’s antique vase playing ball in the house. “Don’t worry,” Alexei said, smiling his usual mischievous smile with so much confidence. “Daddy loves me, I’ll just say I did it.” It was how his brother was, and their father did love him. He did too, so much that there was little Alexei could do that he couldn’t forgive, even when he was asking for the one thing closest to his heart.
I want him. That was his last wish, and he had come back to lay his claim.
The lightning struck again, and this time the boy was gone. A trail of blood slithered along the floor from where he once stood to the back of the room like a fiery red serpent that glittered in the dark. At the end of the trail, amidst the pool of blood, his brother’s corpse appeared. Mikhail jolted back, knocking his chair over and stumbling backwards. He looked again and the body was gone. But the air he breathed suddenly smelled like the stench of that morgue, and the voice in his head suddenly escalated to a shriek, dragging him closer and closer to the edge of madness. He pressed his hands tight against his ears and willed it to go away, failing, time and time again. It sounded like his father's rage the day his mother had died. It sounded like the siren of an ambulance that he kept imagining he'd heard when they’d taken Alexei away. It sounded like Fei Long screaming in pain somewhere he could not see.
Then you will lose him too.
He smashed his fists on the desk to bring himself back to reality. As Yoh's words continued to echoed in his mind, Mikhail hurled himself repeatedly at the polished oak to drown out the sound of that scream. He couldn’t afford this madness right now. That son of a bitch had killed his brother, and he was not going to let the same man kill Fei Long too!
But the voice in his head kept on ringing, all the while his skin crawled at the thought of agreeing to Toh’s terms and what it would do to him, to Fei Long, to them. It was a win-win situation for Toh that he would never consent to had Yoh not reminded him of what was at stake. Between living with that much pain and dying, he would have picked the latter in a heartbeat. But did he have the right to pick for Fei Long, when the man’s life rested in his hands?
A knock on the door came and suddenly the voice vanished. He looked up, took a deep breath and said, “Come in," without thinking. Perhaps that was what he needed - a distraction, some human interaction that would pull his mind away from his ghosts.
The door opened slowly, and a boy stepped into the room. For a moment, Mikhail thought it was his brother’s ghost again, until he noticed that his hair was black, not brown.
“Tao?” Mikhail sighed and rubbed his forehead. He was so close to going mad. “What do you need?”
Tao walked over reluctantly to the older man through the darkness of the room. Mikhail Arbatov was sitting behind a desk, staring at the screen quietly when he approached. Even Tao could tell his mind was elsewhere while his fingers fumbled around a small object he was holding. His blue eyes seemed tired, and the man looked more and more like a ghost every time Tao saw him since he’d arrived at that villa. Only the bruises on his face from the fight earlier that evening told Tao otherwise.
“I’ll go.”
Mikhail looked up and saw a pair of brown eyes that could rival some of his hit men during an assignment. There was no explanation needed. His conviction was strong and clear in the tone he used that day.
“I'm of no use to anyone. Fei-sama needs you more than me. I’ll go.” His voice was shaking a little as he spoke, but it would be a lie to say that he was not afraid of the consequences of his decision.
For a moment, Mikhail stilled as he looked quietly at the boy whose hands wound tight around the fabric of his pajamas, as though the action would give him strength. “Sit down,” he said, dragging a chair from nearby over and tapped gently on the seat.
“Sir...” Tao began and was stopped by the gesture of the older man’s hand.
“Do you know what will happen to you if you go?”
The boy swallowed. “... I might die?” He had been prepared for this before he had come downstairs. He had decided he owed Fei-sama his life one way or another, and it was time for him to repay his master’s kindness.
“He will hurt you instead of Fei Long and will torture you until you can no longer scream. You will not die until he lets you die.”
The way Mikhail Arbatov looked at him told him it was not a threat, but a fact he should know. He could feel blood drain from his face and his fingers had turned cold from just listening to those words. He had been prepared for this, to say he doesn’t care what would happen to him and that Fei-sama’s life was more important than his. Now that he was facing it, all he could do was stand mute in front of the other man. His decision had not changed, but he could no longer voice it as he’d hoped.
“Are you willing to go that far for him?”
Tao nodded. It was easier to do at the time.
“I need you to say it.”
“I am.” It came out reluctantly and in a whisper at first, but seeing the look in the older man’s eyes, he straightened himself and repeated, this time with no more hesitation. “I am, sir.” He paused and continued with a certain firmness that was not there before. “I want to be the man who deserves a place by Fei-sama’s side. I want to be a man like you.”
A man like me.
The older man rested his large, strong hand on Tao’s shoulder, squeezing it firmly. “Fei Long would be proud of you. Go to bed. We’ll talk in the morning.”
His remark had left no room for argument, and Tao exited the room soon after. Mikhail leaned back on his chair and stared blankly at the ceiling. Dawn was approaching and he would soon have to make a decision. The gold chain felt heavy in his hand, the Love key dug deep into his flesh as he squeezed his palm closed. Are you willing to go that far for him? His own words echoed relentlessly in his mind like the constant call of Alexei’s ghost.
Are you willing to go that far?
***
The air was damp and heavy. His palm was slick with sweat when he searched for his last cigarette. He had gone through the entire pack not remembering when he had finished a single smoke. It was the only thing he could do that kept him occupied long enough to survive the wait.
The lighter failed him on three attempts. Yoh wiped his hand on his black shirt and tried the lighter once more. When it failed him the fourth time, he tossed it into the darkness down below.
“Here.” Someone offered him a lighter from behind, already lit. He accepted it, bent over and took a few puffs on the cigarette until the tobacco caught on fire. The man then lit himself one and joined him on the balcony.
He glanced over his shoulder toward his new company. Mikhail Arbatov was standing next to him, staring into the same emptiness before them quietly. He swayed a little while he stood, as if he couldn’t quite plant his feet firmly down on the ground. It was a strange sight to see, and anyone who has ever been around the man would immediately know something was wrong. Being always overly confident, Mikhail Arbatov had always been sure-footed and firm in his stance, his footsteps could be heard and recognized from a room away. That night, his usual presence that prompted people around him to remain cautious and careful was nowhere to be found.
The man took a long draw from his black and gold cigarette and exhaled, his breathing obviously uneven and constricted from the broken trail of smoke that came from his lips. His expression may not say much about how everything was affecting him, but the way the cigarette shook in his hand betrayed his perfect poker face.
“He’s going to die, isn’t he?” It was a rhetorical question, but the way he said it confirmed Yoh’s intuition that the man was already giving up and making plans for that particular future. He did not understand it until earlier that night, how Arbatov could remain as calm as he had. The answer was simple - he had no intention to stick around to suffer the outcome of this event should they fail.
Only failure was something Yoh could not allow this time.
“He doesn’t have to.”
Mikhail paused for a few seconds, trying to believe in what he had previously failed to convince himself to. The lack of sleep was already taxing him, and his focus was beginning to deteriorate. Every time he closed his eyes he was back in that morgue, with Alexei lying lifeless and cold in front of him. And then every once in a while Fei Long would be there, too, standing on the other side of the bed, looking as pale and as lifeless as his brother. Sometimes the image of his mother would also return, together with the sound of her screams the day she’d given birth to Alexei.
They all die.
He squeezed his eyes shut and shook away the sound of his conscience that had been haunting him for days. He needed some sleep to regain his strength. He needed his head clear in order to think straight. Only right now, he could accomplish neither. “I don’t know how to save him.”
“Yes, you do.” Yoh took a step closer until they were standing face to face. “We can’t get him out playing by the rules. If we're going to win this game, we need to do it your way." He grabbed the other man's collar and tugged on it firmly, closing the distance between them. "I need you to pull yourself together and tell me what to do. Think. If it wasn't Fei Long, what would you have done?" There has to be a way to turn things around that they haven’t considered, and the most cunning man among them all was Mikhail Arbatov, if only he could somehow get the man back on his feet again.
If it wasn’t Fei Long...
Mikhail stilled for a moment, searching his mind for the answer to the question he had somehow overlooked. Suddenly his breathing steadied, his blue eyes focused, returning almost to their usual shade.
That did not escape Yoh’s notice. “Tell me.”
There was a pause from the man that seemed like hesitation, even though the look on his face told Yoh it had already been decided.
“You may not survive this.”
Yoh smiled. “Sounds like a good plan.” He had offered his life to Fei Long once, and as far as he was concerned, the offer still stood. “What will you do?”
“Get personally close,” Mikhail said, his blue eyes turning ice-cold as he spoke. “I’ll keep Toh... occupied. You get him out.”
“How will we find out his location?”
Mikhail took a long draw on the cigarette and put out the fire, tossing whatever was left of it off the balcony. There was a way out of this yet that he had failed to see, risky, but not something that he could not or had not accomplished before.
“By tracking you. I’m putting you in there with Fei Long.”
Yoh didn’t see it at first, but it soon became clearer to him. “As proof of life?” Toh had said that he would consider such proof. Still... “Even if you can get me in there with him, I can’t break him out on my own.” It wasn’t something that they could accomplish from the outside even with the knowledge of where Fei Long was being kept, given the fact that Toh could order his execution the moment before they could fire their first shot. And knowing how careful Phillip Toh was, the man had to have placed enough guards around the area to make damn sure it could not be accomplished from the inside, if Arbatov manages to get him in there at all.
“You can’t, and you’re not going to.” Mikhail said with a hint of smile at the corner of his lips. “The only man I know who can break out of that kind of prison is already in there.”
***
The meeting place was a Chinese restaurant on the top floor of a skyscraper owned by one of Toh’s subsidiary companies. The floor-to-ceiling windows offer a panoramic, bird’s eye view of Hong Kong and its harbor. Phillip Toh was standing with his hands tucked neatly behind his back, watching the streets and the bustling crowd down below when his guest had arrived.
Ten minutes after the agreed meeting time, Mikhail Arbatov stepped into the private room, flanked on each side by Toh’s bodyguards. Fashionably late and attired, as always, the Russian turned up in a pair of black leather pants and a black lambskin leather jacket thrown over a white V-neck T-shirt. Because of the tempting sight, Toh couldn’t help but to allow his gaze to linger a little longer than necessary. Fei Long had gotten himself a fine catch, only that catch was about to become his prize and trophy. He couldn’t remember the last time anyone or anything had made him feel this good, aside from torturing his bastard half-brother.
“Good morning.” He sat down on the chair near the window, brushing the crease on the sleeve of his cheongsam as he spoke. “Would you like anything to drink?”
“I’m not here to drink,” Mikhail replied as he removed his jacket and tossed it on the table. He took the chair across from where the other man was and threw one leg over the other, leaning back on the cushion with his usual carefree attitude. The look in those wolf-like eyes, however, was anything but carefree. They focused on him like a predator waiting for a chance to tear apart its eternal enemy. “He is alive and well?” He asked, brief, and as always, right to the point.
It might have slipped other people’s notice, but Toh could see the way the Russian sized up the three guards he had placed in that room. The last remaining heir to the entire Arbatov fortune was no rookie. He was willing to bet that the man had already known what his guards were packing - including the ones in the adjacent rooms. A lot of people seemed to be fooled by flippant mask the young Russian likes to put on, but he could tell from the first time they’d met that the man was not to be taken lightly. Mikhail Arbatov, on his own, could already stir his appetite like no other, but the fact that he belonged to Liu Fei Long of Baishe had made him salivate every time he thought of about getting his hands on the man.
“He is, and I suggest that you begin to heed my words if you’d like him to continue to be,” Toh replied as he called over a serving girl with a slight motion of his hand. Slowly, as if to make sure the action would not escape the other man’s notice, he slid the half empty glass of wine in front of him over to girl. “For the gentleman.”
The pale blue eyes turned razor-sharp when the serving girl placed the glass in front of him. Toh smiled at his first reward. “Drink,” he insisted, rolling the word on his tongue and enjoying immensely the way it tasted. All the while his eyes locked on his prize, allowing no reaction or emotion to escape his notice. It all added to the satisfaction, knowing just how much he could control one of the most powerful Russian mafia family just by using one man as a bargaining chip.
With his eyes remaining on the man across the table, Mikhail picked up the wine glass in a slow motion. He gave it a twirl that lasted a little longer than needed, and raised the glass to his lips. Feeling butterflies invading his stomach, Toh found himself swallowing at the anticipation. The moment that the liquid would touch those lips, it would seal the deal that would make Fei Long wish he could crawl out of his skin. The idea alone was making his knees weak. But a second before the wine had reached his lips, Mikhail paused.
“We haven’t discussed the details of my payment,” he said, putting the glass back down in front of him.
Toh swore in his mind he would make the man pay for this. “Perhaps you’ve forgotten you don’t hold the necessary cards to negotiate with me.”
“Relax. It’s only a matter of the fine print.” The Russian cocked his head to one side and smiled amusingly, his hand fiddled with the wine glass as if to taunt him with it. “What you’re asking for is expensive, and for that I expect to be paid properly.”
Toh pressed his lips firmly together in irritation. Considering his position, he should not allow the man to make a single demand. But somehow, a part of him enjoyed playing this game with the man a little too much. It wasn’t everyday that he would find a worthy opponent that could whet his appetite and excite him like Mikhail Arbatov. Let’s see what you’re up to. “Go on.”
"I want him moved to a cell with a clean bathroom and a comfortable bed where no one is allowed to touch him without his permission for the duration of our agreement."
“That can be arranged." It really didn’t matter. He had all the time in the world to put the man back in his misery.
"I want all his wounds and injuries tended to properly, and he is to be given proper food and water to recover."
"Fine." He had been doing that anyway, to make sure the man doesn’t die on him.
"I want a live camera feed from his cell to make sure you’re keeping your word."
"As I’d said before, I'd be happy to provide."
Mikhail nodded and paused momentarily, picking the glass up again and gave it another twirl. "As proof that it is a live feed, I want my man in there with him.”
Toh stilled, his hawk-like eyes focused sharply on the other man. “You’re planning something.” He could feel it, even though he could not quite guess what it was the man had hoped to accomplish. He would no doubt search Arbatov’s man from head to toe to make sure he is not carrying any tracking devices or weapons. One man couldn’t possibly get Fei Long out of his cell, and even if the Russians had learned the location, Fei Long would be dead before the first bullet could be fired.
“Maybe,” Mikhail said, raising the glass to his face and sniffing the wine tauntingly. “Maybe not.”
“You do realize this man is not getting out once he’s in.” Not alive anyway.
A cunning smile grazed his lips as Mikhail drew up a brow. “Maybe I just need to get rid of him.”
“You can just kill him.”
“I can,” he replied, looking straight into the other man’s eyes. “But considering his ties to Fei Long, I’d rather have him die differently.”
Toh’s eyes narrowed at the remark. “Who is he?”
Mikhail placed the glass down and reached for a small object in his jacket. “See for yourself.” He placed it on the table and pushed it over to the other man. “I’m sure you’ll oblige me.”
Picking up the thumb drive, Toh turned it around in his hand as he considered the request. He was pretty sure the man had just lied through his teeth and was definitely hiding something. But the identity of this man intrigued him nonetheless. Perhaps there was something else he could use that had just presented itself to him. And while the wise thing to do was to not risk it at all, the thought of beating this man at his own game was a temptation he could not brush aside easily. Still… “I have a hard time believing you would do anything that benefits me, even if it’s for your own good. I’m afraid it’s too much of a risk.”
“Let me put it this way,” Mikhail said, looking straight at Toh and smiling. “You can force me to comply to your wishes unwillingly, and you’d be entertaining yourself with a fraction of what he has, or you can take this risk in exchange for my willingness, and get the real thing while you’re at it. Your choice.”
“Your willingness?” Phillip Toh raised a brow and gestured for everyone else to exit the room, leaving just the two of them behind. The truth was, he was not really counting on the pleasure itself when he had asked for this, only the satisfaction of making his brother suffer. But the idea of getting Fei Long’s mere leftovers was beginning to irritate him a little too much. Some how the sly Russian had figured out his weakness and knew just what to say. But even knowing that he was being manipulated, now that he had heard those words, it would not be easy to remove the insult from his conscience. Clever bastard. “You‘re saying that if I grant you this, you will please me like you’ve always pleased him?” Fei Long’s suffering would increase,, and he would enjoy using this man much more at the same time.
“I’m saying that if you grant me this, I will fuck you like you’ve never been fucked before in your life. And when I’m done, you will be begging me for another deal.”
Phillip Toh bit his bottom lip to keep from making a sound, feeling as if his blood had suddenly rushed to his groin all at once. There was something about Mikhail Arbatov, perhaps that overflowing confidence or his extreme bluntness, that told him the man was not boasting. If that was not enough, the fact that he had been secretly attracted to this man for a long time made him shiver at the thought.
He rose from the chair and made his way to the other side, taking his time to enjoy the mental image that was exciting him too much for his own good. Pausing in front of the Russian whose cunning eyes remained on him at all times, he reached out to touch that handsome face, trailing his fingers around the hard edges of the perfect jaw line. The ache in his groin was almost unbearable, now that he could just imagine what it would feel like to touch the rest of the skin that covered the man’s tight, masculine body.
“You seem so sure of yourself,” he said, moving closer until he was standing directly over the other man, who had not made a single movement. Tracing his fingers along the Russian’s face again, he brushed his thumb across the man’s lips and felt his erection push hard against the silk of his cheongsam. “Perhaps a little demonstration is in order before we continue this discussion, don’t you think?” He pushed his hips forward, and almost winced to the pain that shot through his body when he guided the man’s face where he wanted. “I wonder… Is your mouth as good as the words that come out of it? Hmm?”
Mikhail didn’t blink at the request. He reached up to the hand under his chin slowly. The moment they touched, before Toh could grasp what was happening, the man had twisted his wrist and spun him around, face down on the table.
“Don’t move,” he heard Arbatov whisper right next to his ear. Just when he was about to positioned his foot where he could gain a window to set himself free, the man moved his other hand forward and down between his legs.
It was the moment when his need clashed with his instinct to survive. With his skills he could break free from this inferior position at any time, but being held down in that way by this man was making his pulse raced like never before. The anticipation of what was to come and the growing pain in his groin made it near impossible for his head to come up with a logical decision. One call from him and his men would be on the Russian, but did he want this to end?
“What do you think you’re doing?” He asked, almost panting to the merciless beating of his own heart.
“Giving you a demonstration,” Mikhail said. “That’s what you want, isn’t it?”
The hand around his wrist was removed as soon as he ceased to struggle. Instead, the Russian had wound it firmly in his hair, tugging his head backwards until he let a short, muffled groan slip out. His other hand pulled on the ties of his pants forcefully, yanking the knot free with just a few tugs.
There was nothing delicate about it, from the hand that pulled hard on his hair, and the one that was tugging his pants down. The man was brutal, his movements harsh and to the point that it bordered on rape… only he found himself somehow willing. The heat on his back coupled with the sting on his scalp excited him, knowing that it was also dangerous given the circumstances. With one easy twist, the man could easily break his neck, and yet at the same time, the promise he was given made him crave for it. “It’s not what I asked for.”
The man closed his hand on his erection, pulling from him a surprised groan from the contact. He could feel pain and anticipation racing up his spine as the rough, strong hand wound tight around his member, yet refused to move.
“There’s one thing you need to understand before we continue,” Mikhail whispered, yanking his hair back harder, until he could feel the man’s breath brushing the back of his earlobe. “My willingness means that I control this, not you. The pleasure is mine to give however I want to give it. I will hold up my end of the deal so long as you hold yours. Are we clear?” He tugged harder on the ponytail and let go of the straining organ in his hand. It nearly made Toh cry out something unacceptably desperate from the sudden deprivation.
“Are we clear?” Mikhail repeated, still hovering his hand over the erection but not touching.
“Yes,” Toh replied in a desperate and irritated groan. “Just finish it, you’ll get what you want.”
“Good.” The hand closed in around him again. The heat from those fingers that stroke him up and down, pausing in between long enough to make him cry for it, shot through him like he was taking a bullet, one after another. He pushed his hips forward to get what he needed, and every time he did, the man would tug hard on his hair, and let go of his cock. It was a battle of will that Toh had fought and constantly failed. The moment he decided to let go of all his control, and the Russian was satisfied, the hand around him quickened, tightened, and began to wring him dry. He grabbed the edge of the table as his knees gave in, crying sounds he didn’t know he could make as he was brought closer to climax. When he reached it, the Russian let go a few seconds too soon, leaving him aching and straining on purpose.
“It’s always better to leave something for the next round,” Mikhail said as he let go and picked up a napkin, wiping his hand clean.
Toh swore in his mind as he pushed himself up from the table and began to dress himself. It was just a fucking hand job, and he had never before been brought to the edge of madness that way. Had Fei Long been given this every single night he spent with Mikhail Arbatov? He could not tell if the thought irritated or excited him. Perhaps both.
“I’ll send my man over later today, and when I have that camera feed, we’ll talk,” the Russian said as he picked up his jacket and headed to the door.
When Mikhail had left the room, Toh leaned back on the table where they had been minutes ago and straightened his cheongsam. Still trying to catch his breath, a smile appeared on his face as he reached for the wine glass he had previously offered the man. For the first time in his life, he had just met a worthy adversary. He could see a lot of himself in Mikhail Arbatov, and the attraction he felt for the man had just tripled in the last hour. More and more, he was beginning to like the game the man had thrown at him, thinking that he could win.
We’ll see, he thought, grinning amusingly as he emptied the glass in his hand. We’ll see.
***
A/N: I am not skipping the important explanations that is missing from this chapter like you-know-what. They will be clearly explained and justified in 15. BTW, I am off to Egypt and Jordan from 5th - 20th November, so if I don't answer your comments then, I am likely on a camel or camping in the desert somewhere XD But hopefully I can come back with some plot bunnies. MikxFei in the desert, anyone?
P.S. I will be posting in my lj only from now on. So here's your chance to hit that post tracking button or just friend me. I'll try to friend everyone back in case I end up locking any future posts. So if you're not on my f-list and want me to add you without friending me, it's fine, just drop me a line and I'll add you ^_^
P.P.S. I am really really devastated by the novel at this point, and I'm not sure how fast I can update. But I promise I will finish this fic if you're willing to stick around with me a bit longer. Thank you MxF fans who have shown me you are not giving up and kept me going. If there are more of you guys out there, please drop me a line. MikxFei FOREVER! will do. I need it, desperately! *hugs*
Title: Retribution Fourteen
Rating: R
Warning: violence, rough hand job, ghosts, OOC (if you agree with Finder No Rakuin), AU (if you agree w/ FNR), but for those who disagree: CWC (Canon? What Canon?)
Characters: EVERYONE even Alexei(yes, mommy still loves you baby!)
Spoiler: Spoiler for NT arc
Disclaimer: All characters belong to YA.
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.
"Go fuck yourself!" Mikhail Arbatov barked into the phone. The device then flew across the room and landed hard-shattering into pieces - on the other side of the table just behind Asami, who did not so much as blink at the event. The Japanese man, if anything, looked a little surprised.
The room fell into deadly silence afterwards. Akihito wound his hand tight around the back of his chair, feeling the air in his lungs solidify as the tension grew by the second. Like Toh, the phone conversation on their end had also been put on speaker per Yoh’s suggestion. “More heads are better than one,” he had said, just in case some information had slipped. While Arbatov had tried to be discreet when he’d spoken to Fei Long, knowing that they were all listening, the tenderness on his face as he’d said those few words was impossible to hide. He didn't have to know the man for a long time to realize the extent of the power Fei Long had over him. Everyone in that room seemed to know this too, which was why his answer came at a surprise to all of them, knowing what it would lead to.
Before Akihito could voice his protest, Yoh, who had been sitting quietly, leapt off his chair, yanked Mikhail up by the collar, and slammed the man against the wall.
“Call him back and tell him you’ll do it!" Yoh demanded in a tone as lethal as a gun to the other man’s head, his words muffled by his tightly gritted teeth. He couldn't care less who he was talking to. Mikhail may just have cost Fei Long a finger or an arm over his stupid pride and temper. For all he knew, Toh may very well be working on him as they speak. “NOW!” His rage tripled the moment that thought entered his mind.
By that time, Feodora had already had her gun pressed hard against Yoh’s skull. The sound of her cocking the semi-automatic was meant to be the last warning. All the while, she kept her eyes on her husband, waiting for the signal. One nod from Mikhail and a bullet would punch through the man's skull, its precision guaranteed by the determination on her face and the firmness of her hand.
The nod never came. Instead, Mikhail grabbed the arm that pinned him to the wall and twisted hard, earning him an opening for a heavy punch below the ribs, causing Yoh to stumble back a few steps.
“Stay back!” he barked at Feodora, his words harsh and final and was followed immediately and precisely. “This has been long overdue.” The man had one job to do and had fucked it up. If it hadn't been for his failure to protect Fei Long, none of this would have happened. Toh wouldn’t have tortured Fei Long and he wouldn't have had to listen to a fucking proposition that had made his blood boil. He had thought he could deal with the man, but now, Toh had already blown his patience and control to bits.
As Yoh tried to regain his balance, Mikhail charged forward, leaving neither room nor time for anyone to interfere. Another blow landed on the other man’s face, this time sending him crashing back against the dining table where Tao was sitting. The boy jumped out of the way just in time and managed to avoid being cut by the broken plates that resulted from the attack. The look on Tao’s face was more shock than fear, Akihito thought. It was understandable. No one had anticipated Yoh to ever lose it this way. Not even Asami, judging from the way he looked at his former spy, and how his cigarette was hanging loosely on his lips.
When Mikhail grabbed him again by the collar, Yoh kneed him in the stomach, followed closely by a punch to his face. The blow may not have been as heavy as the Russian’s given their difference in size, but the bruise was going to last at least a week.
“You think he’s not going to do it?!” Yoh slammed the man back against the wall once more, his voice nearly shouting. “You will have his hand on the table tomorrow morning in return for your fucking ego, and you know it!”
“My fucking ego?!” Mikhail slammed his palms against the man’s chest, shoving him back furiously. “It was your incompetence that got him in this situation in the first place! It was you who betrayed his trust for that piece of shit! And for what? So you can go to sleep at night having kept you precious pride?! Don’t fucking talk to me about my ego! What have you ever done for him?" He looked at the rest of them with eyes that could draw blood. "What has anyone in this room ever done for him?!"
Now panting heavily from the anger that filled his chest, Mikhail curled his fingers into a fist to keep himself under control. Everywhere Fei Long had turned someone was there to stab him in the back. Everyone he’d trusted betrayed him. If it had been his choice, half the people in that room would have been dead a long time ago. As far as he was concerned, none of them had the right to even talk about what he should or shouldn’t do for Fei Long.
Every one of them should just fucking die, starting with that Japanese prick. Why Alexei? Why did it have to be Alexei?
Yoh snatched a handful of his shirt and yanked the man closer, staring straight into his eyes. "Why don’t you tell me how you will sleep at night when his head gets served to you on a plate?”
Mikhail’s eyes flashed deadly white at that precise moment when the last thread of his control had finally snapped.
“I am not doing a damn thing for that scum who killed my brother!”
The sound of his rage was deafening. He only had to raise his voice a little louder and Akihito thought the crystal chandelier would shatter right before his eyes. He had been told briefly about what had happened to Arbatov’s younger brother by Kirishima, but had forgotten that detail up until then. It seemed to him that everyone, even Feodora, had been concentrating so much on Fei Long that they had forgotten it too. Mikhail Arbatov was still drowning in that loss. The pain in his voice was almost too much to witness-- even Yoh seemed to have calmed down to realize what he was asking the man to do.
“Then you will lose him too,” Yoh said much calmer now than before, even though his expression remained the same. He might have felt a little sympathy for the man who was facing a proposition no one should have to endure, much less a man in Arbatov’s position. But in the end, it all came down to what Mikhail and him stood to lose. Fei Long was the only thing left in the world that mattered to them. Mikhail could not afford to lose him even at the cost of doing this, just as he would cut out his heart if it ever stood between Fei Long and his life.
“I don’t care what you have to do. But if he wants you to get down on your knees, crawl on all fours and suck his cock, you will do it. Because if you don’t, he is as good as dead.” It wasn’t an easy thing for him to ask. He had been there to witness what Alexei Arbatov’s death did to Mikhail and even Fei Long was cast aside in the event. The bond between the two of them was as deep as the scars on the man's back. But he was hoping-praying-- that Fei Long’s worth to Mikhail would be enough to make a difference.
“You were right-- in all of his life, no one had ever sacrificed anything for him,” Yoh said quietly the words that pained him like a blunt knife through his heart. For seven years he had felt like a cripple by Fei Long's side, and now that he was free to do what his heart desires, the power to save Fei Long was still not his. Yet now there was something he could do, words he could say to make a difference. What he couldn’t sacrifice for Fei Long before - his pride, his integrity of having promised his loyalty to Asami Ryuichi before him - he would ask Mikhail Arbatov to. “You are the only one who can.”
It wasn't a pretty sight to witness, seeing a man like Mikhail Arbatov swallow his pride and submit to something he would rather die than consider. But when the rage in those eyes subsided, Yoh knew he had hit a homerun. Mikhail may have been more than ready to die with Fei Long than succumb to such an unimaginable request, but he was not ready to be yet another man who failed Fei Long, especially when he was the last remaining one the Baishe leader could count upon. It was unspeakable of him to use this as his weapon against Arbatov, knowing what he was asking the man to do, but this time, at least he would sacrifice the integrity whose value he’d once held higher than life itself for Fei Long. It was what he could do, and he would not fail him a third time. He would get Fei Long out of there, even if it had required him to become a monster.
Akihito could feel the tension between them electrify the air as they stared at each other in intense silence. Mikhail Arbatov stood as still as a rock, as if those words had completely paralyzed him, while Yoh's immovable dedication nailed his feet to the ground. They exchanged no words in that suffocating stillness, but the battle of will that took place that day could have caused the ground to rumble beneath their feet. Yet somewhere in the middle of all the hostility, a certain kind of bond that linked them together was also apparent. It was then that Akihito understood why the two of them had joined forces given all the odds. Together they’d shared one thing in common and knew the kind of understanding and trust between them would never be reached by any other way. For as long as Fei Long lives, their paths, although may never entwine, would be forever paralleled. They both were aware of this, especially since Arbatov had clearly opted to let the other man live after such an assault.
Mikhail took a long, deep breath and closed his eyes for a second as he exhaled. His rage had dissipated and his control seemed to have returned, only the tightness of his jaws told Akihito the tension was far from over. How could it be over? Akihito thought. The consequence of his decision that day was something the man had to bear and bear alone-- most likely for as long as he lives.
"Call Toh and tell him he'll have my answer in the morning," Mikhail said in a slow, emotionless tone. It was difficult to tell from his expression whether he had already made a decision or if he was just going to consider it. Knowing what he knew, Akihito could not help but worry for Tao. Sending the boy didn’t seem to be an option for the Russian then, which was probably why he had given Toh that answer. But being pushed to the edge with the truth in Yoh’s words that way, nothing was certain anymore.
Mikhail Arbatov went back to the monitor room alone after that without another word. It was the first time Akihito had seen Yoh sigh that way after all the time he had spent at Baishe. As Yoh straightened his clothes and wiped the blood off his lips, Feodora approached him quietly. She paused at a distance close enough to be called intimate, yet the hostility in her eyes sang a completely different tune. He adjusted himself to the unexpected invasion of his personal space, and yet she gained an inch nearer, until her words, spoken in a near whisper, could be heard loud and clear.
"The next time you turn against him," she said, pausing for a second to allow the words to sink in, "I won't wait for permission. Do I make myself clear?"
Surprisingly to Akihito, Yoh stood his ground and stared down at her, his eyes turning ice-cold as he spoke. "Considering that I've just saved your husband's life, you might want to show a little gratitude."
"By forcing him to submit to his enemy?" she said with mocking smile. "I forgot, that was what you did for Fei Long, wasn't it? Better to stab him in the back than put him in danger." She had been kept completely out of the loop concerning Fei Long’s past, but because of the efficiency of her network, she was able to find some tidbits that even Mikhail might not know. “Have you ever asked him how he sleeps at night?”
Yoh paused for a second, surprised at the amount of information she seemed to have gathered. It would be a lie to say those words didn't get right under his skin, but pain was something he had lived with ever since he could remember. Pain was something that was always apparent when he was around Fei Long. He had grown too accustomed to pain to not let it interfere with his decisions, especially when there was so much more at stake. He could not afford to make room for his own problems, the same way Feodora could not afford to waste time concentrating on what he had done or was about to do.
"Open your eyes woman," he said. Surely he wasn't the only one who saw it - the hopelessness in those pale blue eyes that lacked their usual liveliness and intensity. The reason Mikhail had ended the conversation the way he did and crushed the phone in that manner wasn’t just rage or pride. The man had been pushed to his limits, and was inches away from breaking.
"If Fei Long dies, he will not live."
***.
The night was long and unbearable. Akihito shifted on the bed from side to side, trying to sleep and constantly failing. He looked at the half-opened door that opened to the living room and saw that the light was still on. Asami was still sitting out there, going through his second pack of cigarettes as if he needed them to survive. It was enough to tell Akihito that he, too, was being affected by what had happened in the dining room earlier that evening. But the fact that he was in here and Asami was out there, stressing about the same thing, bothered him like never before.
He got up and went into the living room, making enough noise on purpose to make himself noticed. Asami was sitting on the couch alone, with his back turned to Akihito.
“Go back to bed.” He stirred a little but did not turn around when he’d spoke.
Akihito was done taking orders. He took a long, deep breath and planted his feet firmly on the floor. “Tell me about Fei Long.”
“Not now.” Asami brushed it aside without a moment of pause.
“Now!” Takaba demanded. “You can’t keep me in the dark any longer.”
***
The clock struck once, followed closely by the lightning that had brought him back to consciousness. Mikhail looked at his watch and exhaled heavily. 1:00 AM. He must have fallen asleep on his desk while watching the monitors. Recently-yet understandably-- he had lost track of when he last had a full night’s sleep. The only thing he could remember was that the last time he’d tried, he had forced himself up from the nightmares that kept haunting him night after night. The voices in his head had not stopped since then, they only grew in frequency and number during the day whenever he tried to take a break. His headache grew with them like a bad hangover that just wouldn’t stop.
“Him. I want him.”
The sky flashed brightly before the lightning struck again. He looked up and saw Alexei standing in front of the monitors, looking straight at him with his green eyes as bright as emerald, his soft brown hair glowing subtly in the dark.
“I want him.”
Mikhail shut his eyes for a moment and opened them again. His brother was gone now. A child now stood in his place, holding an old basketball in his hands, beckoning him to play. Slowly, a memory he didn’t know he had retained came back to him. He was twelve and Alexei was ten. They had broken their father’s antique vase playing ball in the house. “Don’t worry,” Alexei said, smiling his usual mischievous smile with so much confidence. “Daddy loves me, I’ll just say I did it.” It was how his brother was, and their father did love him. He did too, so much that there was little Alexei could do that he couldn’t forgive, even when he was asking for the one thing closest to his heart.
I want him. That was his last wish, and he had come back to lay his claim.
The lightning struck again, and this time the boy was gone. A trail of blood slithered along the floor from where he once stood to the back of the room like a fiery red serpent that glittered in the dark. At the end of the trail, amidst the pool of blood, his brother’s corpse appeared. Mikhail jolted back, knocking his chair over and stumbling backwards. He looked again and the body was gone. But the air he breathed suddenly smelled like the stench of that morgue, and the voice in his head suddenly escalated to a shriek, dragging him closer and closer to the edge of madness. He pressed his hands tight against his ears and willed it to go away, failing, time and time again. It sounded like his father's rage the day his mother had died. It sounded like the siren of an ambulance that he kept imagining he'd heard when they’d taken Alexei away. It sounded like Fei Long screaming in pain somewhere he could not see.
Then you will lose him too.
He smashed his fists on the desk to bring himself back to reality. As Yoh's words continued to echoed in his mind, Mikhail hurled himself repeatedly at the polished oak to drown out the sound of that scream. He couldn’t afford this madness right now. That son of a bitch had killed his brother, and he was not going to let the same man kill Fei Long too!
But the voice in his head kept on ringing, all the while his skin crawled at the thought of agreeing to Toh’s terms and what it would do to him, to Fei Long, to them. It was a win-win situation for Toh that he would never consent to had Yoh not reminded him of what was at stake. Between living with that much pain and dying, he would have picked the latter in a heartbeat. But did he have the right to pick for Fei Long, when the man’s life rested in his hands?
A knock on the door came and suddenly the voice vanished. He looked up, took a deep breath and said, “Come in," without thinking. Perhaps that was what he needed - a distraction, some human interaction that would pull his mind away from his ghosts.
The door opened slowly, and a boy stepped into the room. For a moment, Mikhail thought it was his brother’s ghost again, until he noticed that his hair was black, not brown.
“Tao?” Mikhail sighed and rubbed his forehead. He was so close to going mad. “What do you need?”
Tao walked over reluctantly to the older man through the darkness of the room. Mikhail Arbatov was sitting behind a desk, staring at the screen quietly when he approached. Even Tao could tell his mind was elsewhere while his fingers fumbled around a small object he was holding. His blue eyes seemed tired, and the man looked more and more like a ghost every time Tao saw him since he’d arrived at that villa. Only the bruises on his face from the fight earlier that evening told Tao otherwise.
“I’ll go.”
Mikhail looked up and saw a pair of brown eyes that could rival some of his hit men during an assignment. There was no explanation needed. His conviction was strong and clear in the tone he used that day.
“I'm of no use to anyone. Fei-sama needs you more than me. I’ll go.” His voice was shaking a little as he spoke, but it would be a lie to say that he was not afraid of the consequences of his decision.
For a moment, Mikhail stilled as he looked quietly at the boy whose hands wound tight around the fabric of his pajamas, as though the action would give him strength. “Sit down,” he said, dragging a chair from nearby over and tapped gently on the seat.
“Sir...” Tao began and was stopped by the gesture of the older man’s hand.
“Do you know what will happen to you if you go?”
The boy swallowed. “... I might die?” He had been prepared for this before he had come downstairs. He had decided he owed Fei-sama his life one way or another, and it was time for him to repay his master’s kindness.
“He will hurt you instead of Fei Long and will torture you until you can no longer scream. You will not die until he lets you die.”
The way Mikhail Arbatov looked at him told him it was not a threat, but a fact he should know. He could feel blood drain from his face and his fingers had turned cold from just listening to those words. He had been prepared for this, to say he doesn’t care what would happen to him and that Fei-sama’s life was more important than his. Now that he was facing it, all he could do was stand mute in front of the other man. His decision had not changed, but he could no longer voice it as he’d hoped.
“Are you willing to go that far for him?”
Tao nodded. It was easier to do at the time.
“I need you to say it.”
“I am.” It came out reluctantly and in a whisper at first, but seeing the look in the older man’s eyes, he straightened himself and repeated, this time with no more hesitation. “I am, sir.” He paused and continued with a certain firmness that was not there before. “I want to be the man who deserves a place by Fei-sama’s side. I want to be a man like you.”
A man like me.
The older man rested his large, strong hand on Tao’s shoulder, squeezing it firmly. “Fei Long would be proud of you. Go to bed. We’ll talk in the morning.”
His remark had left no room for argument, and Tao exited the room soon after. Mikhail leaned back on his chair and stared blankly at the ceiling. Dawn was approaching and he would soon have to make a decision. The gold chain felt heavy in his hand, the Love key dug deep into his flesh as he squeezed his palm closed. Are you willing to go that far for him? His own words echoed relentlessly in his mind like the constant call of Alexei’s ghost.
Are you willing to go that far?
***
The air was damp and heavy. His palm was slick with sweat when he searched for his last cigarette. He had gone through the entire pack not remembering when he had finished a single smoke. It was the only thing he could do that kept him occupied long enough to survive the wait.
The lighter failed him on three attempts. Yoh wiped his hand on his black shirt and tried the lighter once more. When it failed him the fourth time, he tossed it into the darkness down below.
“Here.” Someone offered him a lighter from behind, already lit. He accepted it, bent over and took a few puffs on the cigarette until the tobacco caught on fire. The man then lit himself one and joined him on the balcony.
He glanced over his shoulder toward his new company. Mikhail Arbatov was standing next to him, staring into the same emptiness before them quietly. He swayed a little while he stood, as if he couldn’t quite plant his feet firmly down on the ground. It was a strange sight to see, and anyone who has ever been around the man would immediately know something was wrong. Being always overly confident, Mikhail Arbatov had always been sure-footed and firm in his stance, his footsteps could be heard and recognized from a room away. That night, his usual presence that prompted people around him to remain cautious and careful was nowhere to be found.
The man took a long draw from his black and gold cigarette and exhaled, his breathing obviously uneven and constricted from the broken trail of smoke that came from his lips. His expression may not say much about how everything was affecting him, but the way the cigarette shook in his hand betrayed his perfect poker face.
“He’s going to die, isn’t he?” It was a rhetorical question, but the way he said it confirmed Yoh’s intuition that the man was already giving up and making plans for that particular future. He did not understand it until earlier that night, how Arbatov could remain as calm as he had. The answer was simple - he had no intention to stick around to suffer the outcome of this event should they fail.
Only failure was something Yoh could not allow this time.
“He doesn’t have to.”
Mikhail paused for a few seconds, trying to believe in what he had previously failed to convince himself to. The lack of sleep was already taxing him, and his focus was beginning to deteriorate. Every time he closed his eyes he was back in that morgue, with Alexei lying lifeless and cold in front of him. And then every once in a while Fei Long would be there, too, standing on the other side of the bed, looking as pale and as lifeless as his brother. Sometimes the image of his mother would also return, together with the sound of her screams the day she’d given birth to Alexei.
They all die.
He squeezed his eyes shut and shook away the sound of his conscience that had been haunting him for days. He needed some sleep to regain his strength. He needed his head clear in order to think straight. Only right now, he could accomplish neither. “I don’t know how to save him.”
“Yes, you do.” Yoh took a step closer until they were standing face to face. “We can’t get him out playing by the rules. If we're going to win this game, we need to do it your way." He grabbed the other man's collar and tugged on it firmly, closing the distance between them. "I need you to pull yourself together and tell me what to do. Think. If it wasn't Fei Long, what would you have done?" There has to be a way to turn things around that they haven’t considered, and the most cunning man among them all was Mikhail Arbatov, if only he could somehow get the man back on his feet again.
If it wasn’t Fei Long...
Mikhail stilled for a moment, searching his mind for the answer to the question he had somehow overlooked. Suddenly his breathing steadied, his blue eyes focused, returning almost to their usual shade.
That did not escape Yoh’s notice. “Tell me.”
There was a pause from the man that seemed like hesitation, even though the look on his face told Yoh it had already been decided.
“You may not survive this.”
Yoh smiled. “Sounds like a good plan.” He had offered his life to Fei Long once, and as far as he was concerned, the offer still stood. “What will you do?”
“Get personally close,” Mikhail said, his blue eyes turning ice-cold as he spoke. “I’ll keep Toh... occupied. You get him out.”
“How will we find out his location?”
Mikhail took a long draw on the cigarette and put out the fire, tossing whatever was left of it off the balcony. There was a way out of this yet that he had failed to see, risky, but not something that he could not or had not accomplished before.
“By tracking you. I’m putting you in there with Fei Long.”
Yoh didn’t see it at first, but it soon became clearer to him. “As proof of life?” Toh had said that he would consider such proof. Still... “Even if you can get me in there with him, I can’t break him out on my own.” It wasn’t something that they could accomplish from the outside even with the knowledge of where Fei Long was being kept, given the fact that Toh could order his execution the moment before they could fire their first shot. And knowing how careful Phillip Toh was, the man had to have placed enough guards around the area to make damn sure it could not be accomplished from the inside, if Arbatov manages to get him in there at all.
“You can’t, and you’re not going to.” Mikhail said with a hint of smile at the corner of his lips. “The only man I know who can break out of that kind of prison is already in there.”
***
The meeting place was a Chinese restaurant on the top floor of a skyscraper owned by one of Toh’s subsidiary companies. The floor-to-ceiling windows offer a panoramic, bird’s eye view of Hong Kong and its harbor. Phillip Toh was standing with his hands tucked neatly behind his back, watching the streets and the bustling crowd down below when his guest had arrived.
Ten minutes after the agreed meeting time, Mikhail Arbatov stepped into the private room, flanked on each side by Toh’s bodyguards. Fashionably late and attired, as always, the Russian turned up in a pair of black leather pants and a black lambskin leather jacket thrown over a white V-neck T-shirt. Because of the tempting sight, Toh couldn’t help but to allow his gaze to linger a little longer than necessary. Fei Long had gotten himself a fine catch, only that catch was about to become his prize and trophy. He couldn’t remember the last time anyone or anything had made him feel this good, aside from torturing his bastard half-brother.
“Good morning.” He sat down on the chair near the window, brushing the crease on the sleeve of his cheongsam as he spoke. “Would you like anything to drink?”
“I’m not here to drink,” Mikhail replied as he removed his jacket and tossed it on the table. He took the chair across from where the other man was and threw one leg over the other, leaning back on the cushion with his usual carefree attitude. The look in those wolf-like eyes, however, was anything but carefree. They focused on him like a predator waiting for a chance to tear apart its eternal enemy. “He is alive and well?” He asked, brief, and as always, right to the point.
It might have slipped other people’s notice, but Toh could see the way the Russian sized up the three guards he had placed in that room. The last remaining heir to the entire Arbatov fortune was no rookie. He was willing to bet that the man had already known what his guards were packing - including the ones in the adjacent rooms. A lot of people seemed to be fooled by flippant mask the young Russian likes to put on, but he could tell from the first time they’d met that the man was not to be taken lightly. Mikhail Arbatov, on his own, could already stir his appetite like no other, but the fact that he belonged to Liu Fei Long of Baishe had made him salivate every time he thought of about getting his hands on the man.
“He is, and I suggest that you begin to heed my words if you’d like him to continue to be,” Toh replied as he called over a serving girl with a slight motion of his hand. Slowly, as if to make sure the action would not escape the other man’s notice, he slid the half empty glass of wine in front of him over to girl. “For the gentleman.”
The pale blue eyes turned razor-sharp when the serving girl placed the glass in front of him. Toh smiled at his first reward. “Drink,” he insisted, rolling the word on his tongue and enjoying immensely the way it tasted. All the while his eyes locked on his prize, allowing no reaction or emotion to escape his notice. It all added to the satisfaction, knowing just how much he could control one of the most powerful Russian mafia family just by using one man as a bargaining chip.
With his eyes remaining on the man across the table, Mikhail picked up the wine glass in a slow motion. He gave it a twirl that lasted a little longer than needed, and raised the glass to his lips. Feeling butterflies invading his stomach, Toh found himself swallowing at the anticipation. The moment that the liquid would touch those lips, it would seal the deal that would make Fei Long wish he could crawl out of his skin. The idea alone was making his knees weak. But a second before the wine had reached his lips, Mikhail paused.
“We haven’t discussed the details of my payment,” he said, putting the glass back down in front of him.
Toh swore in his mind he would make the man pay for this. “Perhaps you’ve forgotten you don’t hold the necessary cards to negotiate with me.”
“Relax. It’s only a matter of the fine print.” The Russian cocked his head to one side and smiled amusingly, his hand fiddled with the wine glass as if to taunt him with it. “What you’re asking for is expensive, and for that I expect to be paid properly.”
Toh pressed his lips firmly together in irritation. Considering his position, he should not allow the man to make a single demand. But somehow, a part of him enjoyed playing this game with the man a little too much. It wasn’t everyday that he would find a worthy opponent that could whet his appetite and excite him like Mikhail Arbatov. Let’s see what you’re up to. “Go on.”
"I want him moved to a cell with a clean bathroom and a comfortable bed where no one is allowed to touch him without his permission for the duration of our agreement."
“That can be arranged." It really didn’t matter. He had all the time in the world to put the man back in his misery.
"I want all his wounds and injuries tended to properly, and he is to be given proper food and water to recover."
"Fine." He had been doing that anyway, to make sure the man doesn’t die on him.
"I want a live camera feed from his cell to make sure you’re keeping your word."
"As I’d said before, I'd be happy to provide."
Mikhail nodded and paused momentarily, picking the glass up again and gave it another twirl. "As proof that it is a live feed, I want my man in there with him.”
Toh stilled, his hawk-like eyes focused sharply on the other man. “You’re planning something.” He could feel it, even though he could not quite guess what it was the man had hoped to accomplish. He would no doubt search Arbatov’s man from head to toe to make sure he is not carrying any tracking devices or weapons. One man couldn’t possibly get Fei Long out of his cell, and even if the Russians had learned the location, Fei Long would be dead before the first bullet could be fired.
“Maybe,” Mikhail said, raising the glass to his face and sniffing the wine tauntingly. “Maybe not.”
“You do realize this man is not getting out once he’s in.” Not alive anyway.
A cunning smile grazed his lips as Mikhail drew up a brow. “Maybe I just need to get rid of him.”
“You can just kill him.”
“I can,” he replied, looking straight into the other man’s eyes. “But considering his ties to Fei Long, I’d rather have him die differently.”
Toh’s eyes narrowed at the remark. “Who is he?”
Mikhail placed the glass down and reached for a small object in his jacket. “See for yourself.” He placed it on the table and pushed it over to the other man. “I’m sure you’ll oblige me.”
Picking up the thumb drive, Toh turned it around in his hand as he considered the request. He was pretty sure the man had just lied through his teeth and was definitely hiding something. But the identity of this man intrigued him nonetheless. Perhaps there was something else he could use that had just presented itself to him. And while the wise thing to do was to not risk it at all, the thought of beating this man at his own game was a temptation he could not brush aside easily. Still… “I have a hard time believing you would do anything that benefits me, even if it’s for your own good. I’m afraid it’s too much of a risk.”
“Let me put it this way,” Mikhail said, looking straight at Toh and smiling. “You can force me to comply to your wishes unwillingly, and you’d be entertaining yourself with a fraction of what he has, or you can take this risk in exchange for my willingness, and get the real thing while you’re at it. Your choice.”
“Your willingness?” Phillip Toh raised a brow and gestured for everyone else to exit the room, leaving just the two of them behind. The truth was, he was not really counting on the pleasure itself when he had asked for this, only the satisfaction of making his brother suffer. But the idea of getting Fei Long’s mere leftovers was beginning to irritate him a little too much. Some how the sly Russian had figured out his weakness and knew just what to say. But even knowing that he was being manipulated, now that he had heard those words, it would not be easy to remove the insult from his conscience. Clever bastard. “You‘re saying that if I grant you this, you will please me like you’ve always pleased him?” Fei Long’s suffering would increase,, and he would enjoy using this man much more at the same time.
“I’m saying that if you grant me this, I will fuck you like you’ve never been fucked before in your life. And when I’m done, you will be begging me for another deal.”
Phillip Toh bit his bottom lip to keep from making a sound, feeling as if his blood had suddenly rushed to his groin all at once. There was something about Mikhail Arbatov, perhaps that overflowing confidence or his extreme bluntness, that told him the man was not boasting. If that was not enough, the fact that he had been secretly attracted to this man for a long time made him shiver at the thought.
He rose from the chair and made his way to the other side, taking his time to enjoy the mental image that was exciting him too much for his own good. Pausing in front of the Russian whose cunning eyes remained on him at all times, he reached out to touch that handsome face, trailing his fingers around the hard edges of the perfect jaw line. The ache in his groin was almost unbearable, now that he could just imagine what it would feel like to touch the rest of the skin that covered the man’s tight, masculine body.
“You seem so sure of yourself,” he said, moving closer until he was standing directly over the other man, who had not made a single movement. Tracing his fingers along the Russian’s face again, he brushed his thumb across the man’s lips and felt his erection push hard against the silk of his cheongsam. “Perhaps a little demonstration is in order before we continue this discussion, don’t you think?” He pushed his hips forward, and almost winced to the pain that shot through his body when he guided the man’s face where he wanted. “I wonder… Is your mouth as good as the words that come out of it? Hmm?”
Mikhail didn’t blink at the request. He reached up to the hand under his chin slowly. The moment they touched, before Toh could grasp what was happening, the man had twisted his wrist and spun him around, face down on the table.
“Don’t move,” he heard Arbatov whisper right next to his ear. Just when he was about to positioned his foot where he could gain a window to set himself free, the man moved his other hand forward and down between his legs.
It was the moment when his need clashed with his instinct to survive. With his skills he could break free from this inferior position at any time, but being held down in that way by this man was making his pulse raced like never before. The anticipation of what was to come and the growing pain in his groin made it near impossible for his head to come up with a logical decision. One call from him and his men would be on the Russian, but did he want this to end?
“What do you think you’re doing?” He asked, almost panting to the merciless beating of his own heart.
“Giving you a demonstration,” Mikhail said. “That’s what you want, isn’t it?”
The hand around his wrist was removed as soon as he ceased to struggle. Instead, the Russian had wound it firmly in his hair, tugging his head backwards until he let a short, muffled groan slip out. His other hand pulled on the ties of his pants forcefully, yanking the knot free with just a few tugs.
There was nothing delicate about it, from the hand that pulled hard on his hair, and the one that was tugging his pants down. The man was brutal, his movements harsh and to the point that it bordered on rape… only he found himself somehow willing. The heat on his back coupled with the sting on his scalp excited him, knowing that it was also dangerous given the circumstances. With one easy twist, the man could easily break his neck, and yet at the same time, the promise he was given made him crave for it. “It’s not what I asked for.”
The man closed his hand on his erection, pulling from him a surprised groan from the contact. He could feel pain and anticipation racing up his spine as the rough, strong hand wound tight around his member, yet refused to move.
“There’s one thing you need to understand before we continue,” Mikhail whispered, yanking his hair back harder, until he could feel the man’s breath brushing the back of his earlobe. “My willingness means that I control this, not you. The pleasure is mine to give however I want to give it. I will hold up my end of the deal so long as you hold yours. Are we clear?” He tugged harder on the ponytail and let go of the straining organ in his hand. It nearly made Toh cry out something unacceptably desperate from the sudden deprivation.
“Are we clear?” Mikhail repeated, still hovering his hand over the erection but not touching.
“Yes,” Toh replied in a desperate and irritated groan. “Just finish it, you’ll get what you want.”
“Good.” The hand closed in around him again. The heat from those fingers that stroke him up and down, pausing in between long enough to make him cry for it, shot through him like he was taking a bullet, one after another. He pushed his hips forward to get what he needed, and every time he did, the man would tug hard on his hair, and let go of his cock. It was a battle of will that Toh had fought and constantly failed. The moment he decided to let go of all his control, and the Russian was satisfied, the hand around him quickened, tightened, and began to wring him dry. He grabbed the edge of the table as his knees gave in, crying sounds he didn’t know he could make as he was brought closer to climax. When he reached it, the Russian let go a few seconds too soon, leaving him aching and straining on purpose.
“It’s always better to leave something for the next round,” Mikhail said as he let go and picked up a napkin, wiping his hand clean.
Toh swore in his mind as he pushed himself up from the table and began to dress himself. It was just a fucking hand job, and he had never before been brought to the edge of madness that way. Had Fei Long been given this every single night he spent with Mikhail Arbatov? He could not tell if the thought irritated or excited him. Perhaps both.
“I’ll send my man over later today, and when I have that camera feed, we’ll talk,” the Russian said as he picked up his jacket and headed to the door.
When Mikhail had left the room, Toh leaned back on the table where they had been minutes ago and straightened his cheongsam. Still trying to catch his breath, a smile appeared on his face as he reached for the wine glass he had previously offered the man. For the first time in his life, he had just met a worthy adversary. He could see a lot of himself in Mikhail Arbatov, and the attraction he felt for the man had just tripled in the last hour. More and more, he was beginning to like the game the man had thrown at him, thinking that he could win.
We’ll see, he thought, grinning amusingly as he emptied the glass in his hand. We’ll see.
***
A/N: I am not skipping the important explanations that is missing from this chapter like you-know-what. They will be clearly explained and justified in 15. BTW, I am off to Egypt and Jordan from 5th - 20th November, so if I don't answer your comments then, I am likely on a camel or camping in the desert somewhere XD But hopefully I can come back with some plot bunnies. MikxFei in the desert, anyone?
P.S. I will be posting in my lj only from now on. So here's your chance to hit that post tracking button or just friend me. I'll try to friend everyone back in case I end up locking any future posts. So if you're not on my f-list and want me to add you without friending me, it's fine, just drop me a line and I'll add you ^_^
P.P.S. I am really really devastated by the novel at this point, and I'm not sure how fast I can update. But I promise I will finish this fic if you're willing to stick around with me a bit longer. Thank you MxF fans who have shown me you are not giving up and kept me going. If there are more of you guys out there, please drop me a line. MikxFei FOREVER! will do. I need it, desperately! *hugs*