Icing on the Cake Chapter 11

As if watching a fire across the river, Alexei had been observing the squabble between Yuri and Cheriot and gave a nod. Walking toward the car parked in the alley, Alexei texted Cheriot, asking for the method to enter the condo and a list of necessities. Meanwhile, Yuri started the car and sank into thought about where to drop off this oversized headache.

First things first—he needed to gauge the level of danger Cheriot was facing. Judging solely by today’s events, it was somewhat ambiguous, especially given that Cheriot had shown up boldly in a place with many eyes. Since criminals have nothing to gain from public attention, appearing so openly meant that someone was prepared to go to prison.

But hardly anyone would commit such a stupid act over a mere love triangle. Moreover, when the opponent was this famous, it was far more advantageous to use such dirty laundry as leverage to extort money. After all, there were plenty of scum who’d do all sorts of filthy things for cash.

After deliberating, Yuri chose to head toward a crowded area. Cheriot, starting with his build, was easily noticeable, so rather than picking a desolate spot and risking exposure, Yuri judged it better to place him amid a throng of people where he’d be harder to distinguish. Plans would change depending on how things unfolded, but for today, Yuri wanted to drop him off at a hotel of his choosing and be free of him, even if only for a while.

“I’m back, Yuri.”

Right on cue, Cheriot opened the passenger door and slid into the car. Perhaps because he was far taller and broader than Yuri, Cheriot’s reddish-gold hair seemed to brush against the car’s ceiling.

“Do you have a hotel you usually go to?”

Yuri started the engine and headed toward downtown, getting straight to the point. Cheriot, who hadn’t even buckled his seatbelt and had pushed the passenger seat back as far as it would go, looked up with a sly, squinting smile.

“What’s this sudden change of heart in just a few minutes?”

“What nonsense are you talking about?”

“You’ve taken a liking to me, haven’t you?”

Yuri’s grip on the steering wheel tightened, but he reminded himself that giving Cheriot any more leverage would be a mistake.

“If anything, a famous hotel with lots of guests would be better. With more eyes around, no one’s going to stab you in the gut right in the lobby.”

“Do you prefer a soft mattress or a firm one? Personally, I like it firm. Sometimes, when I can’t control my strength, the person underneath keeps arching their back wrong.”

After glaring straight ahead for a moment, Yuri chose a different approach. He turned up the volume of the radio that had been playing quietly, then decided it would be best to head to a well-known hotel near Thierry, which he’d spotted a few times while passing by.

“Yuri, the radio’s so loud I can’t hear your voice. Oh, by the way—can I speak informally now? Since we’re going to be sticking together from now on, it’d be awkward to keep things too formal.”

Cheriot’s voice cut through the radio music filling the car. And because Cheriot hadn’t buckled up, the incessant beep-beep of the warning chime added to the cacophony, grating on the nerves. Enduring the noise that filled his head through his eardrums, Yuri stomped on the brake at a red light and stopped the car. Unfortunately, Cheriot didn’t even blink, his body firmly planted in the seat.

“You’re a rather rough driver, Yuri.”

Instead of replying, Yuri unbuckled his own seatbelt, twisted his body toward Cheriot, and leaned in. Cheriot, who had been chattering nonstop, fell silent at that moment. Closing in until their upper bodies nearly touched, Yuri reached out, pulled the belt strap, and with forceful strength, clicked the buckle into place, securing it firmly.

At last, the warning chime stopped. After double-checking the securely fastened buckle, Yuri looked up and met Cheriot’s green eyes staring down at him with a startled expression. Satisfied to see that mouth, which had never stopped running, finally shut, Yuri couldn’t help but curl one corner of his mouth upward. Cheriot’s gaze landed on his lips.

“Shut your mouth.”

It was the client himself who had said he didn’t mind being cursed at, so Yuri whispered with genuine feeling for Cheriot to shut up. Whether the message got through or not, Cheriot said nothing, and just then, the light changed.

Returning to his position, Yuri fastened his own seatbelt and started driving again. Thanks to Cheriot finally keeping his mouth shut, he was able to lower the radio volume.

It was late by the time they arrived at the hotel. Since Alexei was supposed to bring Cheriot’s wallet and phone, Yuri used cash to book a room for now. He told Cheriot to stay in the lobby wearing the knit beanie and mask, just like when they first met. After the global pandemic, people wearing masks had become common, so fortunately, Cheriot didn’t look particularly suspicious.

—Did you check in?

Just as Yuri finished checking in, he got a call from Alexei.

“I did it under my name. Room 1201. How’s it going on your end?”

—I got in with the key Cheriot gave me. Must be a superstar—he lives in a penthouse. For now, no suspicious characters nearby, and no signs of forced entry. I’ll keep looking just in case.

“Got it. Call me when you get here.”

—Will do. Is our client behaving himself?

Yuri glanced toward the lobby. He’d told Cheriot to sit and wait while he checked in, but contrary to expectations, the conspicuous white beanie was nowhere to be seen.

“Damn it.”

—I take it that’s a no.

“Sorry, I’ve got to go.”

—Go on, then.

Ending the call, Yuri strode briskly across the center of the hotel lobby. He scanned every person seated on the lounge sofas, but Cheriot was nowhere in sight. Cursing under his breath at the grown man who’d vanished the moment he’d looked away—not a child, after all—Yuri searched elsewhere. Fortunately or unfortunately, Cheriot was soon found.

The tall man in the white knit beanie was seated at the hotel bar attached to the side of the lobby, his back turned. But he wasn’t sitting alone. Next to him, a slender-built man was pressed close, their arms nearly touching.

Unbelievable.

Yuri stopped short and raked his hair back. Even from a distance, it was obvious that the person sitting beside Cheriot was an omega. It was hard to believe Cheriot had charmed an omega in such a short time—Yuri let out a dry, incredulous laugh. Meanwhile, the omega was eagerly showing his interest in Cheriot.

A small, white hand filled with curiosity and desire touched Cheriot’s firm forearm. Cheriot left the touch alone as if it were nothing and took the cocktail the omega male offered him. Unable to stand by and watch such an absurd act—drinking something given by a stranger—Yuri opened his mouth to fulfill his duty, then closed it.

He couldn’t call out the name.

Whether Cheriot or Gutnight, both the first and last names were so unusual that Yuri hesitated. He’d even made him wear a beanie and mask to hide his identity as much as possible—he couldn’t blow their cover with a single name.

In the meantime, the idiot Gutnight was about to drink the cocktail. Slightly lowering his mask to rest it on his chin, he was smiling down at the omega, looking thoroughly amused. Soon, the glass touched his lips, carrying a light laugh. The sweet-looking liquid tilted precariously, about to spill over, and Yuri steeled himself with reluctance and called out to him.

“Cherry!”

A short, sharp call, as if summoning a dog, rang through the hotel bar. The omega beside Cheriot jumped in surprise and turned toward Yuri, and others reflexively glanced at him too. And Cheriot, the owner of that sickeningly cute nickname, also twisted around to look behind him. Those round green eyes, puzzled, scanned the surroundings before spotting Yuri.

Soon, a bright smile spread across Cheriot’s face. Yuri frowned at the overly welcoming expression. He’d been quiet the whole way here, so Yuri had hoped he’d finally keep some distance, but seeing that face gave him an ominous feeling for some reason.

“You found me, honey?”

And Yuri’s unpleasant premonition hit the mark perfectly.

“…What?”