Contract Marriage: Married to My Ex-Husband's Alpha Stepfather [BL] Chapter 66: I’ll Apologize, For The Rest Of My Life

[FROLO]

"Good morning, Mr. Gamov. I see you joined us finally," Katya greeted passively.

He was not going to act like the man was a ray of sunshine, not after their history, and it pissed him off that Yaroslav was acting like that day hadn’t happened.

Like their anniversary hadn’t cost him everything.

Maybe there would co a better ti for that, but right now, Katya just needed to focus on the eting.

Not the way that Anya was staring at him coldly.

Not the way that Volkov and Rahim were watching him with pity in their eyes, however cold.

Not the way the entire room had gone silent.

And certainly not the way Sergei looked constipated suddenly, just because Katya’s hand was on his lap.

"I know. I’m really sorry. But we can talk about that later, yeah?" Yaroslav said, as he settled, oblivious to the tension in the room.

Or maybe he was choosing to pretend there was none, though his father was looking at him like he was so close to killing his own son.

Yaroslav had stayed painfully unaware still.

"Father... I can explain," Yaroslav began, like that was supposed to make things better.

It was crazy, really, how even with the windows open and the AC on, the room still slled like must and the stench of soone who didn’t even know whatever hell his mouth was reeking, and he should have just kept that shit closed.

"Continue the eting, chairman," Sergei said instead, giving Yaroslav no chance.

He didn’t, however, remove Katya’s hand from his lap, but Katya could swear the man was playing gas.

Maybe he had been right all along.

Because what the hell was this, even if not just entertainnt for the Moskowsky household? All of this was insane, and Katya couldn’t think for the life of him. Maybe it was a good thing he had long learned to dust off the Moskowskys.

And like he had been burnt...

Katya pulled his hand off.

And Sergei growled.

A full-on growl.

"Father, I’m really sorry. I don’t rember much of the day, but I will make up for my shortcomings. It won’t affect the company," Yaroslav said, his hand trembling because he knew his father.

He may have grown past being whipped for discipline, but this man was a pro at torture. Psychological gas were Sergei’s forte, and Yaroslav had fallen victim one too many tis already.

Perhaps this was just a mont he was hoping to bargain.

At the head of the table, Katya found himself between a father and his son. And he didn’t know what to do.

He couldn’t interrupt them and return to the eting.

He couldn’t say that they were busy or anything.

And he could breathe wrong because Sergei was pissed and could hurt him in ways worse than he imagined. God’s this was an impossible situation.

"Yaro..." Sergei said, growling again.

Oh, but Katya hadn’t felt that relieved for a long while.

He had thought that the barbarian had growled because he had pulled back his hand. But now, clearly, it was about Yaroslav, and it was relieving in the wildest of ways. Because it ant that everything was nothing.

And Katya would just have to serve his ti with the contact while hoping that soday soone would take him on and save him for the Moskowskys.

"I’ll shut up now, father," Yaroslav said before he turned his attention again to Katya.

Yaroslav didn’t rush to say anything more because he saw how his father tucked his tongue, how pissed he was at the way Yaroslav had represented himself, and he knew this was not going well.

Not for him anyway, but he had to have at least co no?

The entire eting... Yaroslav was focused on Katya Romanov.

He didn’t hear shit that was being said; all he was focused on was the citrus scent from his oga, how good it felt to have Katya so close, how much he had missed him.

Maybe it was a good thing for him, but Katya’s discomfort was obvious. Though many who looked at him simply assud it was because of the embarrassnt that had walked in, calling his husband.

And perhaps because the family eting was going to be hell, probably for Katya after this.

"I’m sorry," Yaroslav doodled on a piece of paper and pushed it toward Katya without even looking in his direction again.

Maybe because Sergei had sent him, and Yaroslav had to pretend that he was focused on the eting.

Katya, on the other hand, had focused the eting. This was about like and death for him, and he also wasn’t the heir apparent to the Moskowsky madness anyway.

He had to do his ti, no?

"How far along is the Riverfront project, Yaroslav?" Sergei asked suddenly, and the air in the room changed.

The board mbers appeared more relaxed, even the secretaries. So much so that they even crossed the room to open the windows even wider, much to the sha of Yaroslav, who was slowly leaning that he looked like the clown of the day.

Maybe there were better endings for Yaroslav, but why the heck would he have chosen the most insane of things?

But then had he had a choice, or was he bested and shad publicly, and still ghosted everyone for three days, stinking to co to work looking worse than he she’d been the last ti anyone had actually set eyes on him?

"It’s coming along well after. It’s bound to be done on Frid— shit," Yaroslav said, realizing what that ant.

Today was Friday.

He had missed the deadline.

He had ssed up the project.

He had fucked up one of the biggest projects of Knox Technologies. There was nothing he could say that would make any sense. And fuck if he didn’t know where his father’s anger was now coming from.

Or maybe it was just adding onto the long list of things Sergei would snipe his neck for this ti.

"Yaroslav?" Sergei said, like he was waiting for an explanation, even though he knew there was none logical enough.

Sergei stared at his son, his face clear with disappointnt and worse things. He was thinking about so much even as he stared at the child who seed determined to stress him out into old age.

"I will send you the report after the eting ends, Father," Yaroslav managed instead, knowing damn well that the project was a bust because it was supposed to be done in three days.

The Friday deadline was only given because Sergei had been distracted with Katya.

And he had given his son more ti, which Yaroslav hadn’t even utilized.

"Are you tired of your position?" Sergei asked, and Katya visibly stiffened at the tone the man used.

It was the kind that scread more labor and worse, more responsibilities that a Katya would have to handle if he wanted to keep his mother alive.

Katya almost protested.

Almost.

But what the fuck was he supposed to do when his entire life was in the hands of this cruel family?

"Can we talk about this last father? We are in a eting, and I ca, didn’t I?" Yaroslav said, like a kid throwing tantrums. But then again, at the end of the day, he was always going to be the son of Sergei.

"The investors already pulled out, Mr. Gamov."