Just A Bit Ruthless

"You've been staring at me for 10 minutes. Is there a reason?" Roman buttoned his dress shirt.

Luke averted his gaze and turned to look at the window.He tucked his knees in front of his chest and hugged him tightly with his bare arms, looking small like a teenager.The morning sun made his blond hair shine, and the scattered light enveloped his high cheekbones, revealing a rosy complexion.If it weren't for the sensuality of the big fleshy mouth, he would look like a pure and flawless angel.It was not the first time Roman felt that the boy looked more French than English.

"You still have the nerve to say that," Luke said without looking at him, with a small smile that seemed a bit forced at the corner of his mouth.His mood was not right.

Roman looked at his side face, thought for a while, and felt that he didn't have the time to interrogate him.Luke was so naughty this morning, and Roman had delayed going out to satisfy him.No matter how loud and annoying Anastasia is, she shouldn't be let off by her own brother on the big day.

"I won't be back until very late," Roman said, putting on his frock coat. "Vlad will bring you food. We'll be back in Russia tomorrow."

Luke bit his lip with his white teeth and nodded, but still refused to look at Roman. "Goodbye," he said, wrapping his arms tighter around his legs.

Roman stopped at the door. "What's your business?"

Luke shook his head and smiled awkwardly. "It's annoying to be locked up here, I think."

Roman didn't believe him, but he really didn't have time to deal with it. "I'll see you tonight," he said, opening the door.

"Wait!" In the blink of an eye, Luke jumped out of the bed and rushed towards him in a stride, so fast that only the white limbs and unkempt curly hair could be discerned.He wraps his arms around Roman's neck and kisses Roman's lips, lips so soft and full and full of wanting, it's as if the hours of rain they've had before them didn't even exist.

Roman couldn't help laughing, his fingers digging deep into Luke's round buttocks.But he also kissed back, satisfying his little curly hair with a domineering offensive, which caused the other party to happily issue a soft and longing cry, and then cuddled him tightly.Roman let the kid act like a baby, but even for a man with such a strong sex drive, it is impossible to get an erection after hours of sex.

But he really couldn't delay any longer.

He pulled away, and with a soft wet sound, their lips parted.Roman cleared his throat and said, "Let go of my shirt, kitten."

After staring at him dreamily with those brown eyes for a moment, Luke hopped away.He clasped his hands behind his back and looked nervous.

The way he blushed was so pretty.

Thinking of this, Roman pursed his lips.He really didn't like the effect the boy had on him.

The sooner you get rid of Luke, the better.

He said no more, and left the room, the door locked behind him.

***

Getting married is fucking exhausting.What's more, for most of the day, Roman was forced to deal with the "concerns" about his marital status from a large group of three aunts and six women who asked him when he would get married.Judging from that posture, it is really a "tragedy in life" to be unmarried after thirty.It's not unreasonable that he doesn't like to deal too much with his relatives.For those who have seen him in diapers, trying to scare them into shutting up with his face is basically not going to work.Roman's mother was the scariest one.All night she babbled at him, wondering when he'd be like his sister and settle down.When he finally told her impatiently that he was busy with important affairs and didn't have time to play house with the woman, his mother's expression was not very happy.

Recalling all this, Roman sighed heavily irritably, and entered his lakeside villa.Compared with the noisy manor he had left before, the tranquility here was a relief.

Vlad was standing in the hall waiting for him.

Seeing the other party's pale face, he knew something was wrong.

"The Whitford boy's gone," said Vlad.

Roman glared at him.

"What?" he heard himself say.

"He ran away," said Vlad, thrusting his hands into his pockets.

Run away.

The word buzzed in his ears, but his weary brain refused to comprehend.

Then he started walking forward.

He went up the stairs to his room, Vlad after him.

The door lock was broken.

The house was empty.The wardrobe door was wide open.The curly-haired boy who showed his dimples when he smiled was nowhere to be found.The bed hadn't been made in time, the sheets were still messy, the quilt was still squeezed aside, and it was still in the state after the two made love in the morning.

"How did you escape?" Roman said, his eyes fixed on the bed.

"It's not clear yet. When I delivered his meal at eleven o'clock, he was still there. Of course I checked the surveillance records, but at noon, the camera seemed to be malfunctioning. I'm in the It took hours to find out, because—well, you know why. I haven't been spying on your bedroom since you told me not to watch your every move."

Roman turned around slowly, very slowly.

He looked at Vlad without saying a word.

Vlad's gaze darted across the room. "I guess he has foreign aid. Someone must have sneaked into the house during the wedding due to the lack of guards."

Roman watched beads of sweat seep out of Vlad's face, watched them trickle down. "There are still 23 well-trained professional security personnel in this house. It stands to reason that they are all top-notch. However, I don't know why, they didn't notice that outsiders came in, and they took me from my bedroom. What was mine was taken. Explain to me, Vlad."

Vlad kept swallowing in an unnatural rhythm. "It looks like it was done by a professional. Probably someone from SIS in the UK. They seem to have suspected you."

Roman groaned. "Maybe," he said, seeing Vlad exhale. "Not necessarily, though. There's a more plausible explanation, don't you think?"

"I don't understand what you're talking about," Vlad said.

Roman grabbed him by the neck and pushed him against the wall, and Vlad hit the back of the head with a thud.It looks like it hurts.Roman doesn't care about him. "Why?" he said, his eyes bloodshot with anger. "Why did you do that?"

The playful expression on Vlad's face was gone, and his body went limp like a rag doll. "I……"

"Why?" Roman repeated, pinching the opponent's neck tighter and tighter, seeing that the opponent was out of breath.Breaking a man's neck was no strenuous task, and he hadn't been compelled to do it in years.

"I'm doing it for your own good," Vlad managed to say hoarsely. "You did the same thing when that brat got on my nerves, and I did the same thing for you—I got him out of your reach. When you calm down, you Knew I was right! Ever since you started messing around with that little chair, you've been inexplicable! He's just a source of trouble. You can pay Whitford back in other ways. You ain't Can't do it."

"You're so bold," Roman said. "I was too soft on you, Vlad. Enough." He increased his strength, watching Vlad's face turn gray.When Vlad became unconscious, Roman let go and he fell to the ground like a sack of potatoes.

"You know, I'm not very polite to traitors," Roman said, looking down at the man who was panting and coughing on the ground. "I trusted you to do your job. I put the back in your hands because I trusted you to take care of everything, not to let you stab me." He walked away.

"What are you going to do to me?" Vlad coughed.

"Not much," Roman said. "Give you 15 minutes to get out of my house. I don't want to hear about you anymore."

"I have been following you for 15 years! Is it all meaningless?"

Roman paused. "Of course. That's the only reason you're still alive. You know I don't like people who think they have more ideas than I do. They're dead wrong." He walked out of the room with anger and regret rolling in his heart, Make him bleed up.Vlad, you bloody idiot.

Vlad was right about one thing: Roman could and would have made Richard Whitford pay without the boy.It was because of that British guy that Roman lost two men who could depend on his life: first Mikhail, and now Vlad.

Richard Whitford had to pay the price.

almost.