okay, woops — it's been more than half a year. updates will be slow but i promise that ill complete this. sorry if this is off/contains plot holes/doesn't make sense — it's been quite a while, and though i referred to my finished planning doc for this fic, it makes sense that im still a little lost and trying to get the hang of things

**NOTE: since it's been a while, here are some refreshers: Andrei is leaving for a business trip, and the Sidorov Organisation is the one targeting Andrei's organisation. Y/n has a shaky relationship with his mother who has sent one letter so far (and more in this chapter), and he is also rumoured to be a traitor because of his apparent connections to the Sidorov Organisation (more to be revealed in the following chapters) — and very very brief mention of Anna, who was the bodyguard introduced a few chapters back

that said, i hope you all enjoy! do comment and vote on the chapter as it would greatly motivate me!

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PLAYING MIND GAMES was hard, especially when the target was an arrogant, intelligent man who had murdered his entire family. But now it was easier, considering that the very man — Andrei Ivanov — who was feared and cunning and unpredictable had a lover.

To love was to have a glaring weakness that could be exploited. And the leader of the Sidorov Organisation knew that well — oh, she knew that very well. However, she couldn't say for herself that she had loved before, when she hadn't. She had a family, once. She still had one, though she had long abandoned it. She had dreams, once, like any normal person. But again, the illusion of happiness had dissipated into smoke and now she was fighting, with teeth, with brutality, for a future.

And the first thing she had to do was to get rid of Andrei Ivanov. How, you might ask?

By getting Y/n L/n to return.

The minute Y/n returned to her, she would be able to get rid of him. He was now aligned to Andrei — he was now Andrei's lover — so it would all be terrifically easy.

All she had to do, she was convinced, was to send a letter.

"I'll send a letter to him," she decided, "plant the seeds of doubt. He doesn't know who I truly am yet — though he does suspect, there is no concrete evidence — so it will all come together nicely. Guilt is a human's greatest foil. The minute nervousness worms its way to Y/n's heart, his mind — he will fall, and Andrei, in turn, will fall, too."

Her subordinate looked doubtful. "Is that so?"

"Y/n cannot refuse me," she smiled sweetly, "he cannot refuse me. I do know Andrei Ivanov has been intercepting my letters to Y/n, and so this time I will be cleverer — I will be as cunning as Andrei is. I will send several letters this time. Andrei will not be able to intercept all of them. Undoubtedly, one letter will go to Y/n. You see, I happen to be someone who he longs for. Someone who Y/n has a history with..."

If there was something greater than a bond between two lovers, it was a bond between mother and son.

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Andrei cursed under his breath for the millionth time as he ripped another letter into two. He was convinced — certain — that it was Y/n's mother that was the leader of the Sidorov Organisation. He could read right through her. She was posing as a mother who missed her child, who wanted to atone for her sins for abandonment — but really, this was all a nasty ploy to get Y/n to return to her.

"Are there any more?" He muttered to himself under his breath, furious. It was the morning that he was due to leave for his business trip, and Y/n was next to him, sleeping peacefully. All it took was a glance towards his beloved for Andrei to calm down, and he gently traced a finger along the (h/c)-haired male's jaw, aching to kiss him. In the end, he pressed a firm, insistent kiss to Y/n's cheek, and Andre stared at the letter ahead of him again.

All of them said the same.

I miss you, Y/n! I'm sorry that I left a while ago. Debt was mounting. I was distraught. I was out of my mind, and I promise you that I never meant to —

It was all lies. Fabrications. But as intelligent as Y/n was, Andrei knew that the promising invitation of a family could override reason. Andrei had been the same, once. He himself had been greedy and needy for a family once too, before Y/n. Andrei could not let Y/n get his hands on this letter, no matter what happened — because the minute Y/n saw that his mother wanted him back —

There would be a chance that Y/n would willingly go back to her.

Or would there really be one? After all, Andrei had already staked his claim on Y/n. They had kissed — and that had been the very sign of a romantic relationship blossoming. It did not matter if they had not consummated their love — Andrei was patient, he could wait — but now it all boiled down to one simple question: who would Y/n choose?

Y/n had already gotten his hands on one of his mother's letters. He had been doubtful, suspicious. But what if two was the charm, not three?

Andrei didn't know. And he didn't have time to mull over it any longer, for Y/n was stirring from sleep. He dumped the letter into the fire, watching as it crackled away merrily, burning to ashes. Little did Andrei know, there was another letter present, sequestered beneath layers and layers of papers on his desk. The minute Andrei left, Y/n was due to find the hidden letter, and that would spell disaster, wouldn't it?

But for now, there was only blissful oblivion.

"Did you rest well?" Andrei murmured quietly, smiling at Y/n.

The (h/c)-haired male blinked, trying to remember last night's events. Nothing had happened, but the shared warmth had been magical, and had provided him with a restful, gorgeous sleep. Y/n had requested it himself, hadn't he — he had asked Andrei personally for them to sleep together. And of course, Andrei had obliged, and they had slept together with interlocked limbs the whole night.

"I did," Y/n whispered, and he delighted in the way Andrei held onto him, his grip never leaving (as well as his adoring gaze that ripped the breath from Y/n's lungs) — "I'm surprised you didn't leave yet."

Y/n had expected to wake up to a cold, empty bed.

"Soon," Andrei laughed, "I still have a bit of time before I will have to change and leave. My suitcase is packed, but mostly, I will buy whatever I need."

Right. Andrei was wealthy: immensely so. Y/n had nearly forgotten.

"Where are you going?" Y/n asked quietly, "and how long will it be, the trip?"

"I will be going to Yakutsk," Andrei hummed, "I'm not sure about the duration, but I'll try to make it as short as possible. Unless you want me gone?" He teased Y/n.

"Oh no," Y/n shook his head immediately, "I want you —"

"Do you?" Andrei's voice was sultry.

"I was going to say that I wanted you here," Y/n hastily corrected, "though what you interpreted wouldn't be something wrong either."

"I will be home the minute you need me," Andrei said fondly, "and of course, you shall receive gifts from me everyday. I'll make sure they are delivered to you as soon as possible."

"You really don't have to," Y/n murmured.

"Oh, but it brings me great joy to shower you with all of this," Andrei said sweetly, "I never saw a need for all this wealth I possess, but giving items to the person I truly adore sends a jolt of pleasure down my spine. You have done so much for me, Moy Sladkiy — how can I not spoil you? How can I not treat you with the love that you deserve, that you desire? All of these are small in the grand scheme of things — in the grand scheme of loving you," Andrei nuzzled his head against Y/n's neck, and his breaths were hot and light near Y/n's ear. The (h/c)-haired male shivered.

"You really do talk a lot," Y/n mumbled, a little embarrassed by this poetic declaration, but still, he stayed silent and merely returned Andrei's words with a kiss. Of course, that very kiss escalated and Andrei was towering over him, with Y/n pressed flush against the bed's mattress —

"You should change," Y/n switched the subject. He was disappointed in the words that fell out of his mouth, but it had to be said — it had to be done. They couldn't do anything frisky before Andrei left — it would likely make the leaving more aching, more painful. Or was Y/n just scared of intimacy? He didn't know, at this point, and he wasn't sure if he wanted to know.

Y/n was aware that being entangled with the mafia — that loving Andrei — being with Andrei — posed a danger to the both of them. Both of them had already been at death's door, and Y/n...he wasn't sure. He was affirmative about his love for Andrei, and likewise, but he didn't know if he was nervous about venturing further, to a point of no return.

It meant risk; but obsession already had risk. Andrei was overprotective, too, but overprotection — could it withhold against the Sidorov Organisation? Could it withhold against the enemies that had proven continuously to be so deadly and adamant on killing the both of them?

If Andrei was disappointed too, he did not show it. His touch slowly left Y/n's skin, but not before he pressed a feathery, soft kiss on Y/n's lips. Then, with a small grin, he turned and left to do exactly what Y/n had suggested him to do, which left Y/n sitting on the bed, boiling in his own thoughts.

Mindlessly, the (h/c)-haired man walked to the desk to kill time, flipping through the papers. And that was when his eyes caught the letter — one that a spy from the Sidorov Organisation had slipped. He was unaware of that, of course, but his heart dropped as he saw the sender — his mother.

And then Y/n's heart rate picked up again and raced.

The fact thrummed in his head: a letter had been sent from his mother.

This was the second letter that he had received from her, was it not? What other things was she saying? If she was trying again, after the first letter had been ignored, did that mean she was making an effort?

Y/n tossed a glance towards the walk in closet, where Andrei was changing. He didn't have time to read through it: Andrei could be back in any moment. Should he tell Andrei of the letter? No, there was no need to, right? If it was in Andrei's room, it meant that he had already seen it — and yet had still omitted the information from Y/n. Was it a breach of trust? Had Andrei purposefully kept the information from him? Was he scared that Y/n would leave him, perhaps, for his mother?

Was Y/n supposed to be angry that Andrei hadn't told him about the letter, like last time?

Yet strangely enough, perhaps due to the warmth lingering on his skin as well as Andrei's soft, kind words, Y/n couldn't find it within himself to be angry. Instead, he tucked the letter into his pocket after folding it nearly, walking back to the bed to stare at the ceiling. The unease he felt was clamped down by the reluctance to see Andrei go. He swallowed, and then felt a headache rising to the surface of his head.

There were already the rumours about him being a traitor that had flitted to Y/n's ears. He knew Andrei had done whatever he could to prevent that information from flying to Y/n's ears, but it had reached him, all the same. People in Andrei's Organization were concerned, for it seemed Andrei was harboring someone who posed a danger, but...

Y/n didn't do anything wrong, right? His parents hadn't been traitors either, right? Y/n couldn't stop a sliver of guilt from running through him. The letter felt heavy in his pocket all of a sudden, and somehow it felt that if Y/n just opened it, it would be able to offer answers to him.

And Andrei being so tender...that didn't help the worry within Y/n.

What if Y/n had unintentionally done something? What if Y/n had —

No, no, he was overthinking now. If Y/n had placed Andrei at risk, he wouldn't have known, wouldn't he? Being called a traitor — it was simply false information. It was merely rumors that could be dispelled. What had Y/n done to be labelled as a traitor, anyway? Stealing the heart of a man rumoured to be ruthless and cold as ice? Why did people say he had connections to the Sidorov Organisation? He had almost gotten killed by them! Y/n hadn't even interacted with them, not a single bit!

Y/n could handle himself without Andrei, even with the vicious rumors. He wasn't weak nor a helpless, meek lamb. He had survived those years by the skin of his teeth, had he not? This would be nothing. The business trip would be fast and swift, and Y/n would be then reunited with Andrei, his lover.

And so it was with this newfound determination that Y/n looked at Andrei who had returned, dressed immaculately and neatly in his obviously expensive clothes.

He swallowed. Andrei was so very sinfully handsome. It made his mind turn to other territories, one that Andrei would have appreciated greatly.

"Help me with my tie, will you?" Andrei asked smoothly.

Y/n looked pointedly at him. "You know how to handle your tie."

"I do," Andrei smiled, with a gleam in his eye, "I just wanted you to help."

Y/n's fingers felt clumsy and flimsy as he finally adjusted Andrei's tie. After a while, he finally tore his gaze away to look fully at Andrei, only to see that the golden-haired man was already staring at him expectantly, a yearning glint present in his eyes.

The words nearly died in Y/n's throat, and yet with honest inflection, Y/n parted his lips to speak.

"I'll miss you," he said. "A lot."

I love you, Y/n thought. The unspoken words withered in his mouth.

"Me too, Moy Sladkiy," Andrei whispered, "stay safe, alright? Stick with Anna. You are free to get rid of anyone who dares to hurt you, or touch you. Call me if anything happens, and Y/n —"

For a brief moment, it seemed like Andrei wanted to say something, but he reigned it in. The moment was lost, and Andrei imparted one last final kiss on Y/n's forehead before he turned.

"Bye," Y/n said meekly. He spoke softly, and Andrei could not hear him. Andrei did not look back, not even once. Y/n suspected that if Andrei saw Y/n now — he would not leave at all, and that...was not ideal. And so Y/n stared at Andrei's back, all the way until he lost sight of him and heard the tell tale sign of the click of the door.

He could already feel a shift in the mansion, with Andrei's leave of absence. In fact, it was like time had stopped ticking ever since Andrei left. It could not be just Y/n, surely—but since Andrei was the one that filled in the gaps where time flowed, and now, without him...

It was as if the clockwork has stopped.

Y/n's hands toyed with the letter in his pocket as he sank into a nearby sofa, biting his lip with worry.

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okay...sorry if this chapter was musty asf, it's hard to get back in the flow of things. hope it was ok though! again, do vote as it would greatly motivate me to update faster and add to your library so you can get notified of future updates!

how was it?